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Also for those of you who have been suggesting I get a Beta. I got one. And she is wondrous and glorious and the reason why my grammar is so much better, and a the number of miss-used and missing words has diminished. Who is this great and mysterious you ask. She is maidengarnet. All hail.
Okay, enough with the hailing start reading. And remember.
READ. REVIEW. ENJOY.
Enter the Ice King
“Good evening Ladies and Gentlemen. This is Elissa Trabell with Grinitch nightly watch. Tonight we’re out under a beautiful star lit sky in the middle of the woods near Swan Lake. Patiently awaiting the arrival of tahh–“ Liss gagged as Lid grabbed the collar of her shirt to shut her up. Though in truth her gag sounded more like a duck being strangled then the sudden attempt of my easily aggravated partner to silence her.
“Would you shut up?” Lid growled only inches from her face. I didn’t even have to look to paint an accurate picture of how things were going between them. It was the same image every time, a skinny five-foot nothing redhead, being man-handled by a six-foot something brunette suffering from terminal PMS.
It was to be expected.
We were waiting for the gate to open, in the middle of the woods in the middle of the night, just the five of us. It’s a three night in a row thing we do once a month. Which for the most part, consists of a lot of waiting. Something Liss hates to do. She hates it so much she’ll do whatever she can to entertain herself, even if it means annoying the hell out of Lydia. Something I’ve been told she’s been able to do with ease since they were kids.
Liss will put on a show specifically designed to entertain herself and everyone else, and would drive Lid to the point of wanting to plow the gabby little redhead right into the ground.
That’s when BB will step in. His real name is Michael Lukos, but we call him BB, because The Big Bad Wolf takes too long to say. Anyway, BB will step in, and Lid will listen because if she doesn’t, Phi comes in. And Phi (who is accurately and affectionately named Fury) will do whatever’s necessary to protect Liss, mainly because (like Lid and I) they’re partners; but mostly because they’re lovers. I guess it’s to be expected. But I really wouldn’t know.
And while all this stepping in is going on. I’m standing back, watching, listening. Not waiting; because if I were to ever walk into this two couple waltz going on before me, I’d be met with four pairs of eyes ready to bury me – or try to anyway.
You see, I’m the reason a job that normally takes two people – suddenly needs five.
I’m what the Guardians call an Anguis Halfling. Half human, half hydra. But not in the way you’re thinking. I wasn’t born this way. If that was the case I’d be a Hybrid, not a Halfling.
You see the difference between a Hybrid and a Halfling is that Hybrids are born, and Halflings are created.
Halflings are two souls, normally human and Sindian (though your probably more familiar with the term Demon) trying to share a body. Simple fact of the matter is; they can’t. One soul will either cancel another out…or they can merge, where each soul will give up a bit of itself to stay in the body and continue living. In this case, sometimes the merger equals out.
Most times it doesn’t.
But my being a Halfling isn’t why I’m treated the way I am.
It’s because I’m Anguis.
“It’s here,” I say, opening my eyes, staring straight ahead at the place where the Gate will open. Already Liss and Lid have separated from each other, and BB is standing behind me as the Wolf he is rather then the man he lives as. Phi’s on the roof of his truck, hands open and ready.
It’s in this moment that I can feel her the most. She knows what’s coming. She’s been waiting. Wanting to move, wanting out, but keeping still because she knows if she did, I wouldn’t let her. It’s in this moment I make her promise one thing. I make her swear it on our soul to not hurt them, to protect them, if nothing else.
She agrees. She always does when the prospect of a hunt is given to her. It’s all she has. And when she does I move my eyes from the forming Gate before me to the full moon above me. I really don’t need the moon, but it helps.
I’ve heard other Guardians say the Anguis aren’t just monsters, they’re the worst kind of monster. For once they’re not wrong. But the monster they see and the monster I know. It should be hard to tell the difference between them, but it’s not.
“You're Zar. Right?” My full name was Chazara Reahdiva. Zar for short. And he damn well knew that.
“Go away,” I said clearly and slowly just in case he needed it sounded out for him. Most often they did. I didn’t even bother to look up from my book
“Did your folks know that when they named you, your nickname would make you a king?” he asked, and though I didn’t see him do it, I knew that he was smiling ever so smugly for the line he’d just created. Not even thinking I’d heard it a thousand times before in a thousand different ways.
“Go away,” I said again, quicker, turning to the next page of my book as I did. It’s not that I was trying to be a bitch – well, actually I was. It’s just that men and me don’t mix well. Not for the last two years anyway.
“So you got anything planned for tonight?” he asked. This time I looked up, pinning him with a disbelieving stare as he sat on the edge of the table I was using. A cocky smile was welded to his lips, as if with that one simple question he’d won me over; as if I should feel blessed or whatever that I’d been asked out by Jamie Moxx.
As if!
“I’m sorry. Am I speaking a foreign language, or are you just deaf?” I asked, in my rudest ‘get-the-hell-away-from-me’ tone.
“Oh no. I just have this thing called selective hearing. So, I’ll pick you up at eight,” he smiled quite charmingly with a shrug, seemingly undaunted by my question and tone.
“Oh,” I said, as if I thought his reply was the cutest thing I’d ever heard, while I got out of my chair, placing my bag on the table. ”Sure, I’ll bring the blender,” I smiled as I stuffed my books in my bag, jiggling it a little so they’d fit.
“Blender?” he asked, apparently surprised by my last comment, and finally showing a facial expression that wasn’t rehearsed because of it.
“Yeah you see, I have this thing called selective hurting. It’s where if you ever look at me or talk to me again; I rip out your tongue and eyes, stick them in a blender, hit frappe, and then force-feed them to you. Sound good?” I asked with my sweetest smile. Okay, so my threat was a bit much, but it’s not like I could say ‘Sure I’ll go out with you. That is if you don’t mind dating a half demon with a diva complex and the occasional impulse to rip your throat out because my demonic half doesn’t like you.’
I mean that’s a lot to say, and then there’s the fact that he wouldn’t know whether to believe me or commit me. Besides, I always got the most hilarious expressions from the threats. And right now the sight of his static face had me laughing on the inside.
“Funny. Good joke,” he replied, though his expression hadn’t changed in the least, nor had his mouth moved more then half an inch when he’d said it.
“What makes you think I’m joking?” I asked with all due seriousness, while rolling with laughter at the sight of his sudden paper white complexion “See ya at eight,” I sang, switching back to the tone that made it sound as if I thought he was cute. Swinging my bag over my shoulder I walked out of the library. Turning only the slightest bit to see poor little Jaime hit the floor like a sack of potatoes. “And they say I don’t have sense of humor,” I murmured to myself with a smile, continuing down the hall to the stairwell.
Opening the door, I quickly stepped to the side, setting my bag down and crouching down next to it as I waited for him to show. I wasn’t waiting for Jamie; there was no way he’d be suicidal enough to follow me after that. Not to mention I was fairly certain he was unconscious right now. Who I was waiting for was Tony, an 18 year-old toothpick, who had fairly recently decided to take up the occupation of being my shadow.
“I hate the Anguis,” I sighed aloud, running a hand over my face as I did.
It didn’t take him long to show up, and when the door was pulled open. My fist went straight into his genitals and he went straight to his knees with a squealing groan. Grabbing the fabric of his shirt at the neck, I picked him back up and slammed him against the painted white brick of the stairwell’s wall.
“I thought I told you to stop following me, You little freak,” I growled at Tony as I pinned him to the wall. He was my fourth stalker in two years.
This would be where the worst kind of monster thing came in. You see, where monsters are supposed to be ugly in appearance as well as soul, the Anguis weren't. They were physical perfection. They wouldn’t stand for anything less.
“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he rasped, squinting at me.
“Okay? Why wouldn’t I be okay?”
“Jamie. I saw how much he upset you,” he replied. Glaring at him I released his shirt, watching with unsympathetic eyes as he fell to the hard concrete.
“He didn’t upset me. He asked me out.” I bit out, throwing a harsh hand in the library’s general direction. “And unless he suddenly develops a case of acute amnesia I doubt he’ll show. Now will you stop following me? It’s so much more then creepy,” I snapped, giving a little involuntary shiver as I turned to grab my bag from the floor and head down the stairs.
“Wait! Zar! Do you still want a date for tonight?” Tony called down the stairwell.
“No!”
There was a reason Tony was my fourth and only stalker (at present). I’d have to tell Endo he was still at it or he’d end up like the first two. This is what I get for wishing to be a little prettier? I rolled my eyes at the thought.
“I hate the Anguis.”
Inserting my keys into the lock, I pushed open the door and went inside. The massive living room was empty save for the mounds of old books Mica was constantly searching through. They were practically everywhere; on the coffee table, the couch, the kitchen counters.
The only place that was safe from his over-flowing sea of musty leather bound knowledge was the floor. Which he claimed was too dirty for his precious books. I just think he didn’t want me stepping on them anymore. Considering that I had when he’d started to let them block the way to the kitchen. Not to mention stubbing your toe, on three-inch thick, centuries (if not older) books really… hurts.
Taking my coat off I opened the closet and stepped inside just in time to hear the swift whoosh and thud of two (most likely) arrows impale themselves in the wall.
“Every time,” I sighed, rolling my eyes at the dark inner wall of the closet.
Anytime Mica thought I was losing control of her he did this. It was annoying as hell.
Turning around awkwardly, I poked my head out of the closet, quickly pulling it back in as two more arrows went whizzing by. Either he was getting faster or the miserable old bastard had a double crossbow.
“Mica, you shoot at me one more time I swear to God I’m shredding your first edition Mary Shelley!” I yelled.
“Ha! You don’t even know where it is!” he barked.
“Gotcha,” I smiled.
Licking my palm I held it just in front of me at my stomach. I concentrated on the molecules of hydrogen and oxygen I needed to move. I watched them through my minds eye, seeing with their jittered warped perspective as they conformed to my will. Climbing to the second floor, to the last room on the right side of the house. He couldn’t see the faint mist I’d sent to find him.
But I could.
I could even see the look on his face, when he started to notice the frost on his hands.
“All right you win!” I heard him snap.
“Of course I win. I always win,” I smiled, stepping out of the closet and sliding the door shut with my foot, then heading for the stairs.
“You’re an evil woman,” Mica glared up at me from his knees.
Mica, unlike BB, wasn’t a big man and he wasn’t old either. BB was about 900 I think. Mica was somewhere in his mid to late forties; I’d never really asked. He had short black hair (that was) graying a bit at the sides, and a goate, that along with the three small silver hoop earrings in his left ear, gave him a sort of aging rock star look. Course, he’d have to stop being such snob for that to happen.
I just smiled as I walked around him and sat on the edge of the bed next to him.
“No, I’m the Ice King,” I replied, eyeing my work. Mica had been kneeling in front of the door when my mist had found him. It wasn’t until his hands had begun to develop frost that he realized what I was doing, but by then it was too late.
Now he sat with his knees frozen to the floor and his hands stuck to the double crossbow he’d been firing at me with. “You shouldn’t have shot at me,” I remarked staring at him thoughtfully. Enjoying how utterly annoyed he looked.
“I was just checking your guard,” he replied. Ah yes, my guard. The one excuse he always gave whenever he felt the need to attack me. Now you see why I call him deranged.
“Lid told you I changed last night, didn’t she?” I asked. Checking my guard may have always been his excuse for attacking me, but it was always a good one. It was my guard that kept her and I apart. If I let it down, she got out, and if she got out…
“Full moon?” he asked, distracting me from my thoughts. He was implying that the full moon had been cause of my change last night, as most Sindians only changed to their animal form on a full moon.
“My choice,” I replied, removing the ice from him as I got up and headed out of the room.
“Chazara!” he gasped tossing the crossbow on to the bed. Cringing when one of the bolts went flying from it and into a glass lamp, only stopping because, like it’s siblings downstairs, it had imbedded itself into the wall.
Looking from the small bolt to Mica, who still stood cringing at the sight of his misplaced arrow. I just had to say it.
“Let me guess. You meant to do that.”
“Don’t change the subject,” he said quickly, spinning on his heel to face me with a finger raised. “You know how dangerous it is to let her out. If the Queen finds out you’re letting her out, she could have you killed. Or worse. You could end up killing someone. What were you thinking?” he ranted as he followed me out of the room, back down stairs, and into the kitchen.
“I was thinking I could show them she can be controlled. That I can control her. But most of all, I was thinking maybe tonight I could get a good night’s sleep,” I bit back, throwing open the fridge door as I did. I was thinking maybe if she breaks her word like she has yet to do, I could stop being Venus de Muerte. I could just stop being entirely. How peaceful would that be?
“Control her!” he shouted as he caught the door from slamming into the counter behind it. “Chazara, she’s Anguis. They control, they aren’t controlled,” he shot back, slamming the door behind me when I had come out with a carton of O.J.
“Then what have I been doing for the last two years?” I yelled back, waving the carton at him. I loved Mica. He was quite possibly the only friend I had. No, he was the only friend I had. But he didn’t understand what having her was like. Her feelings, memories, power. The last thing I wanted was a lecture from him on something he couldn’t even begin to understand.
“Chazara, that’s not control. You won the dark from her. The second you let her have it back, she’ll take it, and she won’t make the mistake of losing it again,” he breathed out, explaining something he’d only ever studied, and most of the accounts were from Halflings who’d died centuries ago. To live as a thing and to study it were two entirely different animals. Why couldn’t he understand that?
“You have to understand the circumstances of the power you’ve been given, Chazara.” Of all the ways this life could have turned out, mine had to be bad spin-off of Buffy, obnoxious middle-age European included.
“And I’ve told you before. This…” I raised my arm, the sleeve of my duster wrapped snugly around my wrist to hide the marks that declared my Sindian half. “Wasn’t…given…it was forced. There were no circumstances. I came, he did, he died, and now I’m this. No circumstances Mica. None,”” I bit. ”So would you drop this gift and given theory you’re bent on instilling in me,” I hated this conversation. Having this conversation always made me remember, and I didn’t want to.
I didn’t want to remember River, or what he’d done to me.
I didn’t want to think of how the only person I’d trusted betrayed me.
Mica gave another sigh, this one of tired surrender. We had this argument often, and it always ended the same way. He saw what happened to me as a gift, there were few humans who could survive what I had, and those that did normally didn’t end up working for the Guardians.
They were normally killed by them.
“You’re working tonight,” he said finally.
“I sort of figured. What am I doing?”
“A new arrival. The Sorcerer.”
“Never heard of him?”
“Not surprising. Like you, he doesn’t advertise. But those who know him know he’s serious.”
“So what’s he doing here? Or did the Gods assert their all powerful vagueness and not tell you again?”
He glared at me for that comment. For some reason Mica was very defensive of the Gods. I couldn’t understand why. From what I’d read about them, they spent more time screwing with their charge’s lives then aiding them. And to top it all off, they weren’t even real Gods. They were mortals chosen by the Guardian’s, and made Immortal by the Powers. Who were a even bigger mystery to me then the Gods.
Guardians and their mysteries.
I guess to really understand them you’d have to be born to them, and I’d only been with them two years. I was lucky I understood as much about them as I did.
“I’m not sure why he’s here. That’s why you’re going,” he smiled wickedly.
“How comforting,” I scoffed, glaring back at him. If he didn’t know, that normally meant I could expect a fight – just what I wanted. “Do you know what he is?”
“Nope.”
“Great, he’s strong. But we don’t know what he is or why he’s here. Can I at least deport him, if it looks like he’s going to kill me?”
“I doubt that will happen. But no, you can’t. Alive is the one thing they did make clear.”
“What if he’s alive when I send him?”
“Chazara,” he warned, not appreciating my humor in the least.
“What’s the point of being a Deporter if you can’t deport anyone for trying to kill you? That is one of the laws right? No seeking to harm, kill, or curse the humans.”
In the Guardian world, Deporters are sort of the equivalent of the MIB. Only instead of Aliens, it’s Sindians gone Demon. Or rather Sindians who have broken one or all of the Laws and are thus considered Demons – but that’s beside the point. As for the Laws, there are only three.
No harming, killing, or cursing of any human.
No apocalyptic behavior or blending of dimensions. We like ours the way it is, Thank you.
Please, please, please, blend in. The last thing we need is the FBI, CIA, and Ripley’s Believe It or Not trying to hunt us down.
If the Sindian don’t like the Laws or suffer from the overwhelming need to break them, I send them. Which roughly translates to kicking their ass and sending them to a hell dimension, courtesy of a little Sindian spell they gave the Guardianship.
“Chazara, be thankful you’re at least a Deporter,” he replied with a mild glare.
“Like they’d make me anything less,” I huffed. They may not like having me on the field, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t use me because of it. “I’ll take care of this Wizard.”
“Sorcerer.”
“Whatever,” I shrugged. “But I gotta stop off at Supe’s first.”
“Going to yell at Lid for tattling on you?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest as he did.
“No, not that it’s any of your business. But thank you for saving my ass from the Queen, by the way.
Tonight’s doorman is Dakota. He’s a Bear, though technically speaking the only bearish thing about Dakota is maybe his size. Other then that, you’d have a hard time believing he wasn’t human. But then, that was the point.
“Endo in?” I asked, handing him the clubs five-buck fee and receiving a nod and a thumbs up to my question. “Thanks,” I said, and went in.
Walking in I pulled my duster back on, it’d been a bit warm outside on the way over, but now that I was here. Panicking any of the newbies that might be in residence wasn’t on my to do list. Not that it really mattered, more often then not they sensed me before they saw me and generally headed in the other direction anyway. No Sindian, no matter how old or powerful, screwed with an Anguis. Not even a Halfling. That’s how strong we are.
Scanning the crowd before me, I took note of the Guardians present. Not that that was unusual. Only about twenty percent of the clubs clientele wasn’t Sindian or Guardian. So, there weren’t too many Norms – humans with no ties or knowledge of Sindians and Guardians - in the club. Not that that was unusual either.
Lid was the first one I spotted, and the one I wanted to avoid the most. Partners we may be, but friends we were not. So staying away from her was a big definitely. She was sitting at the bar chatting it up with her boyfriend Conner, Dakota’s older twin brother.
After I’d placed my begrudging partner, I weaved my way through the dance floor, spying Liss and Phi from the corner of my eye. If you didn’t know they were lovers off the dance floor, you certainly did on it. Then there was Charley, dancing shamelessly with Morgan, the youngest of the Lukos Brothers and the friendliest – even to me. While the two weren’t a couple, people still talked of them as if they were.
But I hadn’t come here to dance or get toasted. I needed to talk to Endo. So I made my way to the back of the cub, to the service door that opened into a hall and ended with a stairwell that lead to his office.
“Howdy, Cha Cha Za Za,” little Carlee Stillmore said as I opened the door to Endo’s office, catching her spinning herself around in Endo’s chair, a Barbie in a Super Girl costume held in flying position in one hand, the other braced on his desk as she pushed off for another spin.
Car was Lid’s runt of a baby sister. She was also the only Guardian in this town capable of kicking my ass. A squeaky little bright-eyed blonde in pigtails, with black nail polish and fishnet gloves, she was the child size version of a punk. And despite her age, she already had about twenty powers. All right, maybe ten. But it’s safe to say she’s got the brain thing down. Telepathy, telekinesis, astral projection, Cognition (including past and future), if it could be done with a thought she could do it.
“Hi Car,” I said, closing the door behind me, silently praying no one told Lid I was here. Or I’d have her and the Queen shouting for my head faster then I could run.
Endo stood off to the side, a lean six-foot tall wolf with gray blue eyes and dusty black hair, nearly the same coloring as his uncle BB. He certainly gave off the impression of an imposing businessman, standing there in his black slacks and white-collar shirt, reading over a handful of papers. Looking to me he gave a small nod before pushing off the filing cabinet he’d been leaning against.
“Tony?” he said more then asked. I nodded. “I’ll have Campeon take care of him,” he replied, setting his papers on the desk and leaving the room, shutting the door behind him. Unlike most everyone, Endo feared me, but not to the point that he let it interfere with how useful I could be to him.
Then again he wasn’t a Guardian. He was a Keeper. He did for Sindians, what human Keepers did for the Guardianship. Keep and protect. And when he could call me in to work as a bouncer for him, that made his job all the easier. And his being the eldest of the Lukos Brothers meant that if I was having problems, be it local or otherwise, all I’d have to do was say it and either he or his brothers would take care of it. Guess you could say we had a nice little business relationship going.
“Check it out Super Girl. Dah dah dah,” she sang with a giggle as she brought herself to a stop in front of his desk once more, chucking her doll at me. Knowing I wouldn’t catch it, but also knowing I wouldn’t let it fall either. “You want news of the what yours has does?”she beamed, laughing at her weird wording, while I sent the doll floating back to her. I wasn’t telekinetic. But being as the H2O molecule was in just about everything, I was pretty damn close.
“If you wouldn’t mind?” I asked.
“Nothing happened,” she replied, short and simple, just like she was. As she flopped back into Endo’s chair, she said “She freaked out Liss, but other then that, nothing happened. Mica lay into you about letting her out?” she asked looking to me, with a curious smile.
“First thing he did after shooting at me,” I grumbled with the memory.
“Yeah, that was funny,” she giggled, rolling her doll between her hands, while I rolled my eyes.
“Please, don’t tell me you gave him that idea.”
“Nope. Those are all his,” she shook her head. I watched Car fiddle with her doll a few moments more before I opened my mouth for my next question. “He’s out in the woods.” She replied before I had even voiced my question.
I would have asked who but I already knew. She was referring to the man I’d been sent to so-call greet. The wizard, err, Sorcerer. Whatever he was. “Could you be a little more specific?” I asked.
“This ain’t Angel babe, and I ain’t Cordelia. I saw night, I saw trees, I saw a creepy guy in the woods. And as much as I’d love to show you where, last time I checked I was still nine and I still have a curfew,” she stated, sounding too much like her sister for my liking. Staring at the ground I nodded at her little rant.
“So, your mother thinks you’re where?” I asked, looking back at her.
“The movies,” she beamed.
I always did.
It was a nice night, clear, calm, crisp. All those lovely little c’s being applied to what was simply a spring night in Montana. The beginning of a waning moon shining overhead, hanging in the brilliant midnight blue of the sky. It was only here in open country that the moon was out, that you could see the night sky as blue.
There was no sound out here. At least, none that came from a man-made world. There was only the wind, the animals, the stars. It would figure this was the only other time she was the most dangerous. In the calm quiet of the world around me that I wasn’t liable to forget she was there. Merely that she was awake.
“You there?” I asked, not with my mouth. I’d learned early talking to her with my mouth could very quickly earn me a trip to the psych ward. Where drugs would loosen my hold and she could get out.
“Shh.”She whispered from the dark, enjoying the calm as much as I was.
Then the feel of something unpleasant wrapped itself around me, around the both of us. And the calm we’d been enjoying was replaced by the sensation of disgust and the need to kill. An impulse that rose so quickly, I realized it was more hers then mine. Causing me also to realize just how close I’d come to letting her slip out.
“Not cool,” I growled angrily at her.
Only to be answered by the hissing growl of her distaste, and if I hadn’t known better I would have thought her distaste was for me. Whatever it was we were feeling; she didn’t like it, which meant I would like it even less. I could feel the invisible scales along my neck and back begin to form, the nails of my fingers lengthening into claws.
When I heard the scream of a woman, I charged off in its general direction. Half out of some need to help and protect the woman in trouble, half out of her urge to rip whatever had disturbed us to shreds.
I was maybe a hundred or so feet away when I spotted the being. He was thin, dressed in the black pants that so many of the Goths at my high school wore, as well as the long sleeve fishnet shirts. His hair (what there was of it) was bleach blond and plastered to his skull. It wasn’t until I was fifty or so feet away that he felt me, and turned with a long, angry hiss.
There were scales around his red eyes, and fangs jutting out from under his upper lip; blackened claws forming from his fingertips. If this had been an episode of Buffy he would have looked really cool – unfortunately, it wasn’t. And unlike the plucky blond heroine on the hit WB show, where a few well-timed tumbles and a quick slash and stab would do the trick – I wasn’t going to be so lucky.
My opponent had scales. Scales meant Reptile Order and Reptile meant he’d know how to mask. Something she had refused to show me. And something he did with no incentive from me.
“Shit,” I hissed when he vanished right as I’d made it to him, my own claws extended for the coming fight. I stood only feet from where he had been, waiting. Poised for a fight that never came.
Relaxing my stance, I straightened, scanning the woods around me. Stopping when I spotted the tattered form of the woman I’d heard scream. Stepping closer I crouched down next to her body. It was only because of her I could handle the sight of the body before me without throwing up. Her throat had been shredded. There were finger-sized holes in her left shoulder, where I suppose he’d been holding on to her. She was ash white from the all the blood she’d lost, blood that was now congealing on and around her.
I wonder if she even knew.
“Lacerta are such messy eaters,” came a male voice from behind me, a light English accent coating his words. Without a thought I spun around to face the man, still crouched to the ground, but with my claws out and ready. He spoke with an ease that unsettled me. As if the woman’s death was just some mess he’d now have to clean up. He was dressed in an all white suit, his short hair slicked back gleaming in the light of the moon; but his face and its features hidden in its silhouette.
“You saw this?” I asked, a little breathless toward his attitude.
“From kiss to kill. Unfortunately,” he nodded.
“And you didn’t do anything?” I snapped.
“Wasn’t my fight,” he shrugged with a causal nonchalance that made me sick.
“So you just stood there and watched?!” I shouted, rising to full height and flinging a hand at her tattered corpse.
“Better her then me. Besides, people die every day, why shouldn’t she?” he replied with ease.
I had no answer for his question. Yes, people died every day in just about every way. Including being torn apart by monsters like me, but that didn’t mean they shouldn’t try and be stopped.
“Why didn’t you kill him? You’re the Ice King aren’t you? Unforgiving, unrelenting, as cold-blooded as the Reptile you carry. Isn’t that what they say?“ he asked, his voice taking on a husky tone, but not to seduce; to anger.
And it was working.
She hated my title as much as I did. She hated how they thought of me, how they treated me, how they doubted me. She could feel how his words were biting into me, cutting with every syllable. I had to dig my clawed fingers into the palm of my hands just to remember I had to control her and not be controlled by her.
“What if I told you he was still here?” he said, an enticement dangling from lips, a promise that I could do as I pleased with no interference, should his words be true. I was so tempted as I locked my eyes with where his should have been, so willing, and wanting. The chance to shred that thing, the way he had her.
Then a thought occurred to me. Why was he offering me the chance to kill this thing, when he’d stood by and watched it kill? If he didn’t have the power and I did, how would he know if it was still there? A small smile quirked the edge of my lip as I fixed on his game.
“You’re the Sorcerer,” I said.
“Guilty, I’m afraid,” he replied with a small shrug, moving his hands into his pockets.
“You brought the lizard.”
“Yes,” With this one word, there was no tone. No decoration or denial lacing its simple three letters, just the clear admission of his actions.
With that I pulled on the cold detachment he’d been egging me into. Wrapping my title around me like a cloak of mirrors, where those around me would see what they wanted, and I would see what was real and in front of me.
“I’ll deal with you when I’m done,” I stated, closing my eyes, releasing my hands from their tight fists. I thickened the night air with the mist I commanded so well. If he was still here I’d find him; there were few Reptiles that tolerated the cold. And I could make it Antarctic.
He came at me quicker then I had expected, with blows that held nothing back. It wasn’t long before he had me on my knees, gasping for air. It took him even less to think he had won the fight. Grabbing a fistful of my hair, he pulled me to my feet. It was when he made for my throat that I had him. I grabbed his jaw, sticking two fingers in his mouth. Freezing it before he could bite down.
The next few seconds were nothing but muted screaming and uncontrollable shivering.
“Impressive,” the Sorcerer said, seemingly unconcerned with the fact that he was next. “Terrifying, but impressive. Shateal was right about you,” he mentioned as an after thought.
As I looked to him with the same cold expression I’d worn for the demon, he seemed to finally comprehend that he was next.
“Oh yes, I suppose you’ll be wanting to kill me now,” he continued, still sounding unconcerned. “Well, good luck with that,” he waved, then vanished.
It took me all of two seconds to figure out what one of his powers was. “Ah shit” I bit as I realized I’d been played by an illusion, and nine times out of ten the projection was never what the projector looked like. Spinning around I kicked the dirt in front of me – stopping when I saw that the demons hand was on the woman’s ankle.
Walking over to his frozen body, I kicked his hand off her. She’d already died by his hands in life. She didn’t need to be touched by them in death too. Looking over her pale form I took note of the clothes she was wearing. A light green sundress and tan leather sandals. A matching purse was lying some feet away, half hidden by a bush. Crawling over to it I pulled it out, dusted it off and opened it. There was a driver’s license for a Rebecca Phlass, who was due to turn 18 in another three months. Next to that was a lipstick, a foundation compact, a set of keys, and a string of photo booth pictures. All of her and the demon, though in these he looked more like the boy next door, than his current Mr. Mosh pit – especially with his full head of brown hair. And on the back of each was ‘Becky and Bit’s forever’ with the standard XOXO under each. It was gag-ably cute, but since they were dead I didn’t.
“Hon, you must have thought ‘what the hell’,” I said to her, shaking my head at the cruel hand fate had dealt her. Squatting there staring at her tattered body, I looked back to the photo then to the dead goth demon to my left. With a sigh, I pulled my duster off, tossing it onto a nearby log, before grabbing the demon by the shoulders and dragging him up next to her.
“Just so we’re clear and you don’t haunt me for this, it was the demon that killed you, not your boyfriend. He was already dead.” I said as I squatted back down in front of them, dusting my hands off on my pants. “Which in hindsight means it really shouldn’t matter whether or not you’re lying next to each other. Shouldn’t it?” I asked suddenly debating the intelligence of my moving his body next to hers. “Ah screw it. You’re lying next to each other. Please don’t haunt me,” I said to the deceased couple.
Smiling lamely at the idiocy of talking to the dead, I brushed my hands off on my pants one more time and then I stood and headed for my duster. Reaching to pick it up, I paused when I caught movement out the corner of my eye. I turned to find the demon standing. I was so surprised to see him, standing, let alone moving, that his lunging in my general direction hadn’t really registered until something big and dark dropped down behind him, snapping his neck with a simple twist and chanting the spell to open the Hell Gate beneath his motionless body.
I watched all of this with a sort of out of body detachment. Coming back to it only when the Gate had closed and the dark one that had opened it stood back up. He was tall, about a foot or so taller then me, which placed him at a little over six feet. Then there was the muscle barely contained beneath his tight, black short-sleeved shirt. His waist was narrow and he was probably sporting a six pack. A black leather belt sporting a sliver dragonhead buckle was looped through his simple black cargo pants that were tucked into his black hiking boots. And while the rest of his form was plainly visible, his face was obscured by a thick mass of wavy black hair that looked lambskin soft.
Though I wasn’t about to test it and see. The air around this man practically sizzled with all the pent-up energy he was carrying. Everything about him screamed predator, screamed danger. I was beginning to understand what the other Sindain felt when I entered the room. But for some reason my body wasn’t reacting to him the way my mind thought it should. I was calm, relaxed as if he posed no threat to me at all.
But how could that be when he shown up without my sensing he was there to begin with? When he’d snapped the neck of demon known even to its own Order for its speed? This man had power. And she was reacting to him as if he was nothing. Please don’t let this be her vanity kicking in. I really didn’t think I could take another ass-kicking tonight.
“Thanks,” I said finally, lightly, still stunned that the demon had risen after I’d freeze dried him. Then I released my claws and made for his gut. With a speed I didn’t even see he grabbed my wrist, spinning me around so that was I pinned against him. My back was to his front with my arm twisted up and held tightly against my spine, his other hand at my throat.
But there was no grip there, just his hand. I could feel his thumb slowly trace the line of my jaw, his fingers simply cupping the side of my neck. I could feel the push of his chest against my shoulders as he breathed. Taking great deep breathes as if he was inhaling the scent of a flower. But I was no Goddamn flower; I was the Ice King.
“Let go,” I bit, and he did, more abruptly than I was expecting. And when I turned around to confront him, he was gone.
