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“How–?” So he had underestimated me then.
The fool.
The wicked smirk twisted my features as the door I had been led through moments before swung open and all those knives and swords I had heard being drawn raced in. Everyone from the bar entered with a howl, including the young couple, who now looked ravenous with rage and blood lust. That look deepened as they saw the nearly decapitated body of the man who up until a few moments ago had been Yersua’s right hand man.
“Last chance Yersua. Let me walk out of here and you won’t lose any more of your men.” I didn’t even look at him as I faced the six swords now pointed at me.
“You won’t walk away from this, Caspyn. You will face what you did to my brother.” I didn’t miss the slight warble of fear and panic lining his voice, not that anyone else did. They thought they had the upper hand.
It was time to show them how outnumbered they were. I needed time, and the smallest of them was the most scared. Normally it would make him an easy target, and it did, but not in the way I was sure he thought judging by the absolute panic in his eyes.
“I have no regrets.” A twist of a grin slipped over my features as I stepped forward, flipping my now blood covered knives and sending more red through the air. The woman flinched as the cold blood splattered on her face, but I was still looking at the panicked man before me as everyone lunged.
I kicked first, sending one of the men back into the wall with a wet slap and a creak of wood that sounded far too ominous, even for this place. Another furious looking male stumbled back as I sliced him with my knife, the blade continuing forward to cut into the forearm of a man so covered in tattoos I couldn’t see his face. The tattooed man screamed, his sword falling to the ground with a tattooed arm still attached.
Smiling, I slashed with my other hand, sending the other half of the couple to the floor as he lost his balance. Both knives came back in a fluid motion, the cross-cut what I had used to remove the head of hundreds of Fae. This time, however, I stopped my knives as they hit against the skin of the scared man, his blood trickling over his neck as the sharpened blades cut into him.
His eyes were wide, the blackened fear drifting to panic as the scent of urine mixed with the blood and salt.
“Don’t worry, I have big plans for you.” I pressed my thumb to his neck, sure my eyes were already drifting to the stark ice color as I began to steal his time; steal his life.
“Tell me,” I mused as he gasped, shaking under the pressure of his life leaving him. “What color are my eyes?”
“Ice.” The single word shook as his skin sunk to the color of ash and lye. I didn’t even turn at Yersua’s panicked inhale behind me.
With the icy chill of my thumb against the hot skin on his neck, I pulled his life and time into me as though I was inhaling the bouquet from a wine I had in Turin once. The warmth of him smothered every inch of skin and bone as all of that delicious life filled me. The ice of my magic bathed in the warmth, it pulled and lapped in the wondrous taste of it, the darkness in me rejoicing in the beauty of it.
I didn’t steal life from people often, if only because this desperate blood lust to take it all, to take them all, felt dangerous, even to me. But right then I savored it.
Right then, I wanted more.
His gasps turned to screams of pain as my magic pulled and tugged, his ashen skin beginning to whither and crack as I pulled. The woman stepped back, watching with wide eyes until the Qit swayed to the side again, a large wave sending everyone into the same wall as before. The man slipped from my grasp, his pained scream still echoing over everything as he hobbled from the room, his withered body barely clinging to the life he had left.
I fought to keep my footing, scowling at the loss of the delectable power, the time throbbing within me, waiting for me to use it.
“Delicious,” I snarled, the single word lost in the laughter of the man who pushed against the wall to tower over me, his sword and knife moving fast in an attempt to disarm me.
His sword went up, my dagger went down, but not against his sword arm, against his shoulder and right into his heart. The echo of his scream was loud in my ear as I withdrew my knife, his blood spraying over my hand as he fell to the floor and I turned, parrying the sword and knife from both woman and man.
They moved in a flutter of leather and skin, the glint of their knives bright in the dark every time my blades hit against theirs. One after another they attacked, the large tattooed man racing from where he had now recovered, his sword held limp in a hand that was clearly not used to fighting.
Perfect. He should be easy.
I turned, grabbing the small knife I kept hidden in my belt, and threw it at him. I aimed for the neck, but the throw went high as the Qit shifted, the blade embedding itself right between his eyes. He didn’t even scream as scarlet blood trickled over his face and he collapsed, leaving me with only the couple from before, the woman looking even more rage filled.
The man however, was clearly second guessing. His attacks were strong lunges, the motions matched with the woman’s as they flanked me, pushing me back toward the wall.
No, they weren’t pushing. They were herding me.
I almost laughed outright at not having realized it before. They were not fighting me with the intention of killing me. They were fighting me with the intention of capturing me. It was the greedy man behind the desk who had been watching all of this and was now eagerly licking his lips as I allowed the pair to move closer that gave it away.
Yersua wanted to torture me. He wanted to bring me pain the same as I had to his brother.
Poor man.
He truly had no idea the dangers he had unleashed on himself. Well, I did try to tell him.
Wiping the smile from my face, I slowed my movements. I would not let these two get the upper hand on me, but perhaps I could force Yersua to show his. Perhaps I could trigger whatever else he had planned.
