Giovanna told Klaus to save other questions for Ruel and began to drag him through hallway after hallway, these ones not covered in mirrors. But there were open doors everywhere, leading to rooms where people just lounged about, living their lives, not looking at Klaus and Giovanna even as Klaus stared at them.
Most of the people had some sort of mirror on them, some hanging off their clothes, some embedded in their bodies, some had smooth rounded edges, and some were jagged shards.
Giovanna turned a corner and something caught the light and threw it into Klaus’s eyes as he followed her around the corner. He looked down. Her mirrors were on the soles of her shoes.
They turned down another, emptier hallway and Giovanna picked up her pace a bit. The doors in this hallway were almost all closed... except for one that was open merely a crack. Klaus couldn’t even peek in and see anything and yet... “Giovanna?” a woman’s voice spoke from the room.
Giovanna stopped and cursed under her breath, turning to face the door as it swung open.
Standing in the doorway was a pale, blonde woman with one gray eye and one blue, wearing a blue, empire waist dress that fell 6 inches above the knee and tall boots. Beautiful blue and black butterfly wings stretched out behind her. She looked at Giovanna then at Klaus. She gave him a small smile and asked, “are you a new team member?”
Klaus frowned and opened his mouth but Giovanna answered for him, “he will be. He still has to go to Ruel’s office to do all the ritual shit.”
The blonde woman closed her butterfly wings, revealing the room and the other woman behind her. The other woman held onto a punching bag that hung from the ceiling to keep it from swinging. Her reddish-brown, tight-but-voluminous curls were pulled back from her face with a ribbon. Her dark brown skin glistened with sweat. She picked up a jacket that was draped over the back of a chair and shrugged it on over her bare and strong-looking arms. “Cecilia, can you put the punching bag away?”
The butterfly woman, Cecilia, nodded and fluttered her wings, hovering a few feet off the ground, and floating over to the punching bag. She unhooked it from the ceiling and let it drop heavily to the ground.
The other woman took her place in the doorway, looking down at Klaus. She was at least a full foot taller than him and he found himself shrinking even smaller under her cold stare. She held out her left hand, “I’m Bridget. I’ll be your team leader.”
Tentatively, Klaus raised his left hand to shake hers, his non-dominant hand weak in her grip.
Still holding onto his hand, she looked him up and down and said with no readable expression, “report to me every morning at 6 A.M. for training.”
Klaus dropped her hand, his face twisting into an indignant expression, “Huh? Why the hell would I do that?”
“Cause you’ll die if you don’t.”
