Shiva was a disciplined woman. Reaching the pinnacle of martial arts required nothing less. So unlike some of her peers, she didn't lose her calm just because a mission refused to go her way.
Her chance to take Jean Valjean's measure had seemingly slipped through her fingers, the man somehow sensing her despite the care she had taken while casing the office.
Rather than take offense, she appreciated the display of competence. Still, she intended to take his measure, whether he liked it or not.
At first, she had even been amused when he seemed to flee from her.
She had thought she might enjoy a game of cat and mouse.
Now… it was simply vexing.
Several times already she had tracked him down, yet each time, as if fate itself were laughing in her face, she missed him by minutes throughout the day.
Even so, she kept a firm grip on her temper as she arrived yet again, following his trail to another production facility. When she finally saw signs of her target, she had been more than ready to repay him for his little games.
Yet once more, he mocked her.
Shiva was not a prude. Embarrassment and awkwardness were things she had long since trained out of herself.
No, what kept her still was the identity of the woman with him.
Poison Ivy was known to her, one of Gotham's more notable metas, but more importantly, Shiva was among the few aware that Ivy had been the one to place the recent bounty on the Joker. The woman's wealth and abilities had earned Ra's beneficence, and a warning had gone out through the shadows that she was not to be touched for now.
One of Ra's passing fancies, no doubt.
Still, while Shiva did intend to break away from his influence one day, that was a step far in the future. Undermining her standing in the League of Shadows before she had even properly measured her next move would be foolish.
So it had led to this.
She was forced to watch from a rooftop across the way while the two of them lay together, turning her into some damned voyeur.
...Even if the sight was rather pleasing. She felt her patience wear thinner as the minutes dragged on and slowly became an hour.
Thankfully, after more than an hour, Poison Ivy finally left.
Shiva would make certain Jean Valjean paid for this humiliation tenfold.
His skill in the bedroom, at least, wasn't lacking.
Perhaps… she could incorporate that into the punishment.
Still, their meeting had merely been delayed—
A soft hum brushed against her ears.
Shiva stilled at once and scanned the surrounding rooftops, but she failed to find the source of the sound.
Was she hearing things? Impossible. Her senses were far too trained for—
Swinging off the eaves of another building, she caught sight of several shadowed figures moving across the rooftops before dropping into the alleys below.
The Bats?
No. Those movements were familiar.
After waiting more than an hour, these fools thought they could steal her prey?
She felt the anger and irritation of the day's failures finally boil over.
"You dare!"
Her blade slipped cleanly from the sheath.
As she leapt from the rooftops, Shiva descended the side of the building with the wrath of a god, until her sword fell in a single smooth stroke and cleanly took the head from the first would-be assassin.
When her feet touched the ground, she finally got a proper look at her opponents. They were dressed in black leather suits with masks shaped like owls, bandoliers, and sheaths full of blades displayed openly, with no effort made to disguise what they were.
These were killers, plain and simple.
"I will only say this once. Leave."
She kicked the severed head toward them and flicked the blood from her sword.
A taut silence followed as the assassins stared back at her.
Then a knife flashed toward her head.
She knocked it aside with her blade, but it was only a feint. Clawed hands lunged in, aiming to open her from belly to throat.
Her leg shot out first, taking the assassin off balance, and her sword came around a heartbeat later to remove his head.
Shiva couldn't help the grin that spread across her face as her blood began to pump faster.
"Can you not do better than that? Come all at once if you do not wish to die like dogs."
They rushed her exactly as she expected.
Shiva scoffed. So easy to bait.
One of the owl-masked killers leapt for her, only for her to step in and drive a kick into his chest hard enough to send him crashing into a wall.
She leaned back as another sword carved through the air where her throat had been a moment earlier, then caught the attacker's wrist on her blade and severed the arm in one vicious motion.
Shiva raised an eyebrow when the maimed assassin still hurled himself at her, clawing and snapping forward despite the blood pouring from the stump.
Shiva kicked him away.
Well-trained? No, the reaction was unnatural.
"Hm. Some sort of nonhuman, then. How fun."
Two more came in low and high, trying to split her attention.
Shiva pivoted between them with contemptuous ease, letting the lower blade scrape sparks from the wall as she stepped over it, then drove her elbow into the throat of the one above.
Before his body had even finished folding, she seized him by the shoulder and flung him into his companion, tangling them together for a single instant.
More than enough.
Her sword flashed once, then again.
Two throats opened.
The pair collapsed in a wet heap at her feet.
Another assassin came from behind, silent enough that a lesser fighter might have missed him.
Shiva didn't bother turning fully. She shifted a fraction, let his blade slide past her ribs, and rammed the pommel of her sword into his face hard enough to cave in bone.
As he reeled, she spun and opened his stomach with a clean, diagonal cut.
Still, they kept coming, and Shiva welcomed it.
The press of blades and bodies only made her blood sing louder.
This was what she lived for. The feeling of her life balanced on an edge. The thrill of carving through a horde of foes with nothing but her skill and instinct.
There was no pleasure quite like it.
Shiva moved through them with effortless grace, giving ground only when it amused her, cutting one down, crippling another, turning their numbers into a hindrance rather than an advantage.
A blade skimmed past her cheek and earned a smile for the effort.
She trapped the wielder's arm, broke the elbow, then used his falling body as cover against a spray of thrown knives before shoving him aside and splitting the skull of the man behind him.
One by one, her opponents fell.
As always, there could only be one winner.
Her sword pierced the chest of the final assassin, and he collapsed to his knees with a wet choke.
"Be proud. You died by my hand."
Shiva gave the nameless killer that final measure of respect, then removed his head with a clean stroke.
She gave a low hum of appreciation as she looked over the battleground. The dance of blades had been sorely needed to burn away some of the day's stress.
Still, while the appetizer had done well enough to warm her up, it was finally time to meet the main dish.
Bypassing the low-level guards surrounding the facility was child's play for someone of her skill. She moved through them without effort, her body still thrumming pleasantly from the fight as she strode along the warehouse catwalk.
Her hand traced the door handle as she considered how best to approach the man.
Hmm. Perhaps she would grace him with her touch first while her blood was still singing.
"Jean Valjean, our meeting is long—"
She stopped cold.
The second-floor office was empty.
Her eyes swept the room once, then again, before settling on the open window. A slow rage began to build in her chest.
Then the sound of an engine below made her move.
A car was already pulling away, vanishing deeper into Gotham.
Did he truly think he could escape her?
She drew in a slow breath and let it out, forcing herself toward calm.
She would find him, and when she did, she would make sure he understood exactly what this little game had cost him—
Her communicator rang.
"Lady Shiva, please report to base A2. Mistress Tahlia requires your services."
Her nails dug into her palm.
"Understood." She clicked the communicator off.
Calm. She was calm.
Then a gust of wind stirred through the open window, and she noticed a Post-it note flutter loose from the frame. Shiva caught it between two fingers and read the message.
Hope you enjoyed the show, Lady Voyeur!
—Jean Valjean
"ARGHHH!"
She ripped the note to pieces.
***
Comments and Thoughts would be greatly appreciated. Likes are like a drug to me and boost my creative juices.
I have advanced chapters on Pa tre on/daisyberry if you wanna read ahead.