It’s a job that she was born into, but she’s never been its biggest fan. It’s the sign of her loyalty to darkness, a Ranger assigned to keep the mischief going and the scales tilted in evil's favor. It’s a wide band, the silver seared into her flesh and unable to be removed, Celtic symbols engraved into the sides and around the dime-sized emerald set into the front. She grabs her makeup bag, her very livelihood should anyone ask, the silver of her wrist cuff flashing in the light. Shucking off the dirty clothes, she quickly pulls on a green tank top, jean shorts, and a pair of sandals before sliding on several plain rings and a pair of silver earrings. She drops the envelope containing her contract on the stacked suitcases before walking into her large closet it’s basically a small room on its own, filled with her clothes, shoes, and childhood keepsakes that are mostly made up of old Polly Pockets and Scooby-Doo memorabilia. Resigned with her assignment, she picks up the manila envelope from her desk, Jasmine Took written on the front in her brother’s elegant script and walks back to her bedroom. He’s currently tucked away in a Russian prison, so at least Jas doesn’t have to worry about him trashing her house while she’s gone. She looks more like her twin than ever and that bothers her more than she cares to admit.ĭash Took is nothing more than a career criminal that preys on old people for their social security checks and murders whenever it’s ordered without even a second’s hesitation. The screen goes black and she’s left staring at her reflection thick curls going everywhere, dark circles under her eyes, and the shirt she has on is stained from the previous night’s barbequed ribs. Love you, Jas, take care of yourself and remember not to cause too much damage." You're expected to stay there for a few years, so we won't be in contact. “Anyway, you're to be sent out for a while, field work, and I packed your bags. "Grow up, Jasmine Alexis, and stop calling me an asshole.” Her brother’s a fucking mind-reader, she swears it. “Asshole.” Flynn lets out a long sigh, leveling a stern look at the camera and pointing at it like he often does to her or his kids when they’re in trouble. I figured you’d need this little wake-up call.” “It’s because I know you forgot everything I told you after you had that last cup of coffee like the idiot that you are. “You’re probably wondering why I recorded this for you last night,” he says, leaning back in the chair. He must have recorded this for her last night while she was making dinner or more coffee.
Soon a video of her brother fills the screen, Flynn looking as exhausted as she does with his hair sticking up all over the place and his eyes half-lidded as he stares into the camera. "Don't get your panties in a twist," she grumbles, typing in the passcode to access the message that has been left behind. The computer screen is flashing a dark red color, the beeping continuing until she mutes it. She grabs a pair of pants off the back of the coach as she passes and struggles into them before collapsing in the chair, grabbing the desk to keep from rolling away. Her eyes widen in realization and she desperately kicks off the pile of blankets, trying her best not to trip as she sprints for her office.
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Is someone trying to Skype her? No, she doesn’t have a social life and her co-workers don’t know how to work a computer. Is it my alarm clock? No, she’d thrown that out the window last week. Flynn had told her it was important before she sent him off last night, he’d told her it was imperative that she didn’t forget about it, but he’d also told her not to drink another cup of coffee and she’d completely ignored that advice.Ī constant beeping keeps her distracted from her thoughts-what little ones she has this early in the morning-and she lets out a little growl. Jas furrows her brows, staring straight ahead of her at the lavender-colored wall as she racks her brain for any sort of hint. She’s supposed to do something today, it’s important, it’s….
She remembers drinking her tenth cup of coffee around 2:30 in the morning, sending her older brother backwards in time to help an ambitious Vizier murder King Tut, and then there’s nothing. Pushing her hair off her face, she slowly sits up and stares around her dumbly, wondering when she’d made it back to her bedroom after the caffeine high from the night before. Jas wakes slowly that morning, the bright sunlight filtering in the room past gauzy curtains making her let out a groan.
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