**My Shadow**

His name was Callan. Not that many cared. In his line of work the guy you met last week was as likely to meet you in the bar for drinks as they were to be dead. So, to say the least, Callan didnt have many friends.

He was a bodyguard, and one of the very best. Started out as a bouncer for a nearby nightclub and moved his way up the ranks to be the protection for the Don himself. Yes, that Don. The one that currently ran the city with an iron fisted grip. He refused to go anywhere without his “shadow” as he referred to Callan.

There wasnt much you could do once the Don called you to be his “shadow”. Unless the Don said to be someone elses shadow... which is why Callan found himself outside a nondescript building, alone, simply waiting.

When the Don tells you to go somewhere you do, and in this case there was added instruction. “You have been one of the best I’ve ever had my Shadow, but I need you to protect someone else. Someone very important to me. Should anything happen to them.. I will be most displeased”.

And so Callan found himself outside what appeared to be an office building on the upper east side.  All he knew was that he was to wait there until whoever he was supposed to start protecting came out the front door. So wait he did.

Callan was leaning back against the wall, twirling a coin through his fingers when he heard what sounded like glass shatter. A slight frown crossed his features as he contemplated what to do. He didn’t sense any danger... but the Don had been very explicit. Nothing, not even a scratch, was to befall his new “Master” so to speak.

He signed, standing up and putting the coin back in his pocket. He was told to wait outside, but something told him that simply waiting was no longer an option.

With determined steps, he opened the door to the building and headed towards the gilded lobby. This was so obviously one of the Don’s mafia connections, that Callan understood now why he was told not to enter the building. The Don was very particular about keeping his business contacts “private” so to speak. They were, after all, the legitimate front that covers up the more illicit activities of the organization. There was a good reason that the Don kept Callan away from his more white collar associates. They knew full well the stories of “The Shadow” who always got what he came to collect.

As he approached the gold-plated elevators thinking to himself how gaudy it was for a corporate office, he heard the distinct sound of the elevator arriving at the bottom floor. He stood still, his hands casually in his pockets, as he waited for the doors to open. Either an executive would come through or whatever caused the shattering glass sound he heard earlier. Hopefully, it would be his new ward and they would be unharmed. He didn't want to think about what would happen otherwise.

He watched her, her body going from angry defiance to curiosity once she realized he was there. Callan was not unaccustomed to people finding his appearance “odd”. Each arm was covered in an elaborate tattoo that extended onto his chest. One, a large winding black Chinese Dragon, symbolizing the power of the nothing. The ability to become invisible, and yet being one of the most deadliest of its kind.

The black snake that wound its way around his other arm, had an entirely different meaning, and one of such pain that Callan never spoke of it. Instead, it wound its inky way across his skin, marking him as someone of a different life, a different human almost.

Her attitude intrigued him, as most would see him and shrink back, not boldly come forward. It was... refreshing, and so he was inclined to answer her question. Perhaps she would be able to help him locate his ward? The Don had been very evasive when telling him about this new target, and refused to even state a gender. For all he knew, this could be her.

“I am” he said simply, before stating “I was told they would know a password.”

It took him a moment to put two and two together and realize what just happened. She must have been my new ward... Damn it. he thought to himself. Moving with purpose he made his way to the door and out to the street. Of course, she was already gone from sight.

“This... is going to be difficult.” He said softly aloud, thinking to himself on what to do next. Digging into this pocket, he pulled out his cellphone and opened up a GPS app, specifically downloaded for him. On there a small dot was moving a block over, not too quick. He smiled, realizing that she had given him the slip by running down the nearby alley to get to the next street.

He put the phone back in his pocket and casually began walking up the street he was on. If she maintained her current course he would run right into her once they both reached the corner. He was almost grinning as he thought of the look on her face.

He wasn’t an easy man to be rid of.

Callan smiled slightly. Not only did she recognize him she also did not appear to be frightened of him either. It was... refreshing.

“That is what I was told.” He said simply, tilting his head in acknowledgment. “If you would be so kind, may I know your name?”

The Don had not felt it prudent to tell Callan anything about his new charge, let alone their name. It told Callan how much the Don feared for this person that he wasn’t willing to tell him much. Callan had been the Don’s shadow for quite some time and it was a well-known fact that if the shadow was sent then whatever it was, was something incredibly sensitive that must be accomplished. Failure would not, could not be, an option.

And so Callan was now aware of three things.

1. Whoever this girl was, she was important to the Don.
2. Her very life was likely threatened.
3. The ones threatening it... were likely one of the Don’s close associates.

Callan couldn’t help but stiffen when she looped his arm through his. He was not accustomed to being touched, let alone by someone he was in charge of protecting. “Cynder” he thought to himself, “A nice name.” It sounded so familiar and yet he couldnt put his finger on where he had heard it before.

He nodded his agreement and walked with her, trying to not show how uncomfortable the contact made him. She looked furtive, her eyes glancing up and down the street as if she was looking for something, or someone.

This woman had obviously been protecting herself for quite some time. She had that look about her, confident but wary, that spoke of altercations in the past. Even the way she carried herself with an attitude bordering “I dare you” all spoke of a woman who was not easily trifled with.

The further they walked the more Callan wondered about this strange woman who he had been sent to protect, and what could possibly want to do her harm.

Callan frowned slightly, unsure how to respond. He tried to loosen his stiff stance but found himself unable. He was so used to sitting in the background, no contact, that he simple couldn’t relax. Normally, human contact for him equaled some kind of conflict. In essence, he didn’t touch another human being unless he was hurting them.

But for her sake, he tried to at least appear more relaxed. After a minute no one walking by would assume anything other then they were a young couple hurrying to a location.

“This alley is not safe.” He said quietly, as they approached a side alley that he had a feeling she was going to turn down. “There is a man shooting up behind that dumpster. A prostitute is on the next doorstep.”

He looked around, his sharp senses picking up not just sounds, but even the scents in the area. “Parking lot, another block down. Busy for commuters. Should be open enough but without risk of people hearing.”

He was surprised when she ignored him and continued down the alley and that surprise only magnified as she spoke of the man laughing to himself and then the woman. Leti immediately put Callan on edge as he could sense the malice she held toward Cynder before the woman even opened her mouth.

He processed their conversation without comment; his face betraying nothing when he heard Leti say “I should complain to your father.” A memory was coming back to him, distant but becoming clearer. He had... not been in the best state at the time, having just survived a gunshot wound to the stomach. As always though, pain and discomfort did not stop him from his duty and so he stood guard over the Don in the shadows.

A redhead had approached. They argued, and the Don signaled to his Shadow ‘Do Not Interfere.’ Something that was odd to him even then, for the Don was known to use him to intimidate his subordinates when they got too mouthy. Except, not this one.

It was coming back to him now more fully as Cynder led him past Leti and into the shadows of the darkened hallway.

They took only a few steps further before it all clicked and Callan abruptly pulled away from Cynder. His eyes flashing he turned to her and said “You are his daughter...” his eyes piercing hers even as his voice trailed away.

A million things were running through Callan’s mind, but disgust was not one of them. If anything.. He was surprised.

The Don was very protective of his daughter, more so than many realized. It was not in his interest for his subordinates, who carried out the worst of his commands, to fraternize with his daughter. There was more than a few times that Callan had been tasked with, “removing,” a troublesome member of the organization. If any of those men had known who exactly Cynder was, well it could have been a lot worse.

Though... to be fair Callan did not know much of the rest of the organization or how it operated. After all, that glitzy building had been the first time he had ever been in one of the Don’s associates “above board” businesses.

The truth was that the Shadow was only as powerful as he was feared. He had an almost... supernatural reputation. To maintain that, the Don kept his Shadow close and only used him for missions that he could entrust to no one else. The Shadow did not fail.

“I was... taken aback. I apologize.” He said softly. “I... was not told who, only where to meet. I am to be your Shadow miss, with all that entails.”

He looked directly into her eyes, hoping that she would understand that his reaction was not due to who she was, but rather the significance.

Her expression was unreadable, a new one for Callan. He felt, off balance, while around her. She was unlike anyone he had come across before.

Lost in his thoughts it took her playful banter to remind him that he was supposed to be moving. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to reply or not, and so only nodded as he stepped forward and began following her. Two paces back as he was accustomed too.

“Cynder,” He said quietly, as he stopped in the middle of the tunnel.

“I care very little about who you are. It does not matter to me who your father is, nor do I care about what others think.” He stopped for a moment, holding her gaze. He could feel her anger, understand it more than she could ever know. He was the Shadow. He knew full well how it felt for others to think they know you, how you think, how you feel.

“So please do not confuse my reticence.” Callan finished, closing the distance between them. “I am, not accustomed to others wishing to speak with me. I’m afraid Im not very good at it.”

He smiled, the small act softening his features and showing a glimpse of the boy within the man. The boy who had seen more death and violence before the age of 16 then many see through the course of their entire lives. The boy who learned to hide behind a wall built to protect him from pain, torment, and violence.

The apology meant far more to him then she would ever know.

“Shall we continue then?” He asked, looping her arm back through his and striding forward. The contact was still jarring for him, but if he was going to get better at all this there was no better time to start then now.