Chapter 1
'And then I shot him -peng- dead!'
He showed a pistol with his right hand, crooking ring finger and pinkie, straightening the other three, and supported it with the left hand clenching the finger pistol from beneath. His tongue smacked loudly, indicating a shot while quickly turning his right wrist upwards. He laughed crazily, showing his blackened teeth with gaping eyes.
The crowd laughed at the rather funny pantomime of his not-so-funny mission. How could they even laugh about killing a man? Yes, the presentation was entertaining to a certain extent but they seemed to be forgetting the delicate background of their amusement. He looked at the wide grins of several of the newbies and couldn't help but feel some sort of shock. They couldn't be seriously enjoying this story, could they? Judging by their expressions, cheering, and whistling, not only did they take pleasure in it but seemed eager to experience a similar adventure. But he knew better. Soon they would be screaming in their dreams and not be able to hold out their hands without trembling. The murder of a man leaves marks on oneself, deeper marks than any of those empty-headed idiots down there could possibly imagine.
Also, being a member of the BNM, obviously, did not mean gaining a fortune or having special rights. Just by taking a glimpse at Wolve, one could easily realize the truth if one had the brains for some simple maths. His teeth indicated that gold teeth were more of a fairy tale and the way he spelled his name was everything but proof for a refined educational degree. But actually, he shouldn't be so surprised. Their lack of rational assessment was most probably the reason they ended up here, as wingmen and wingwomen for the most influential man of London, also known as his dad.
Michael spat down over the railing, not aiming for any one particular as they all disgusted him equally. To his satisfaction, his slobber dripped right onto one of the newbies' heads and he started patting it slowly and then massaged the saliva carelessly into his hair. He was just about to spit again when a hand was laid onto his shoulder.
'Cal, that's disgusting.'
He quickly swallowed the liquid and turned around sheepishly. In front of him stood a rather tall, trained young woman in jeans and a tank top. Her shoulders were muscular, and her posture was straightened. As she stood there next to him, leaning over the barrier; she was surely a few heads taller than him. She graced him with a judgemental expression, her left eyebrow cocked at his childish behaviour.
'They are disgusting,' he insisted.
She turned her head and cast a glance at the group of newbies.
'Once, I was just like one of them,' she said, somehow sympathizing with the cheering crowd.
He eyed her with a puzzled expression. When he saw the intelligent gleam in her eyes, he couldn't understand how she could possibly identify with one of them.
'The fuck, Andi. You ain't a tattooed, brainless killing machine,' he snorted.
She laughed frankly.
'The way you say it, it almost sounds as if they are despicable because of their tattoos.'
'Well, yes. After all, I like you despite your folly,' he grinned.
She drew her eyebrows together.
'Watch your words, rascal.'
'Or what? Are you gonna do some fancy killing machine trick on me?'
His laughter was immediately interrupted as she took him by his arm and flung him over the steel railing of the bridge they were currently standing on. All of a sudden, the collective eyes of everyone in the hall were turned towards them as Cal had attracted their attention by letting out a fearful scream. Andi was gripping his arm fiercely, as he thrashed about with his legs. He whined and clutched her arm with both his hands.
'What was that, Cal?' she asked jovially.
Sweat ran down his forehead and it was clear that he couldn't hold himself much longer.
'Your killing- machine tr- tricks shall et- ternally be b- b- blessed,' he screwed out.
'What?' She shouted, holding one of her hands behind her ear.
'I didn't quite catch ya, sorry. What was that again?'
The crowd let out a guffaw and Cal slid down a few centimetres. His knuckles were whitened by the fierce grip on her sleeve.
'I said- Your abilities- shall be blessed- ah!'
'Oh, right.'
With truly little effort, she pulled him back up again and he immediately collapsed there, on the bridge. The group of newbies started to applaud exuberantly. They whistled and hailed until Wolve interfered with loud shouting.
'EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVERYBODYYYYYYYYYYYY SILENT!'
Surprisingly, they hushed immediately. Wolve grinned, pleased by their obedience.
'So, this,' he gestured towards the bridge, where now, hidden from their gazes, Andi was leaning over Cal, gently brushing his hair off his sweaty forehead, and smiling brightly.
'This was an excellent recital of what you learn during our tutoring, here, at the BNM. Nobody, and this is my promise to all of you, will dare to make fun of you ever again!'
Cal chuckled at Wolve's word choice.
'Right. Sorry, Principessa.'
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