Chapter 4
FOUR
Whoever he is, he killed a demon, and that immediately makes me suspicious.
I don’t detect any Aperite energy from him, nor demonic. He screams human to me, but he’s a human who doesn’t mind taking another’s life. If it’s so easy for him to kill, then he’s well on his way to becoming a corrupt soul and eventually a demon.
Doesn’t matter. Whoever he is, he will not steal my kills.
They’re mine.
All the ones in this area.
I’ve laid claim to them and he will not kill a demon under my watch!
He already did kill one, Minerva. And you know better than to claim otherwise in your report.
Damn it!
“Who are you?” I demand again, this time louder.
“Lucien de Vitry. At your service,” he says with a bow.
There’s a wicked glint in his eye that I do not trust.
“You killed a man,” I note as I slowly inch away.
He shrugs, his green eyes still on me.
“I don’t take kindly to gents trying to hurt a lady.”
I glare at him.
“Well, I could have handled myself just fine,” I say with a huff.
“The right thing to say is thank you .” He pauses. His lips quirk up. “Miss…?”
I roll my eyes at him. I am not certain what he wants, but the more time I waste here, the fewer demons I will kill tonight—especially now that he took one of my kills.
“The right thing to do is to mind your own business,” I tell him sternly and move to leave.
He doesn’t move. His eyes are tracking my movements, shrewd and calculating.
I don’t know who this Lucien de Vitry is, but my instincts tell me to be wary. There’s something about him that I don’t like.
Perhaps it’s simply my pettiness for him stealing my kill. Or perhaps it’s the way he’s watching me with that dangerous glint in his eye as if I’d ever allow him to come within a few paces of me.
Dream on, soldier boy.
“Still waiting for my thank you ,” he says when I move past him.
I glare at him.
“You might have to wait forever.”
“A feisty gal. I like it,” he murmurs appreciatively as he turns toward me.
“Take one more step and I will gut you,” I warn in a harsh tone.
His brows shoot up in surprise. Then he smiles and takes a step forward.
My eyes flare. For all my talk, I cannot kill a human. Could I get away with a little torture, though? Just enough to wipe that smile off his face.
He moves slowly, methodically, until he’s right in front of me.
It’s dark. As a human, I doubt he can see much. But I can see him well enough.
And I hate it.
I hate that I have to look up at him as if he were one of those buildings that scrape the skies. I hate that he dared to kill my demon. Most of all, I hate that he’s daring to talk to me as if we are equals.
“You puny little hu?—”
“Little?” He straightens his back, towering over me.
I glare mutinously at him— up at him. Okay, maybe little is the wrong word choice.
His sole response is to smile. He only knows how to smile. It’s not a bad smile, if I were to assess it objectively. But as of right now, I am anything but objective when he just killed my demon! Now he’s making me lose precious time when I could be out there finding another demon to fill my quota for the night.
“Step away or I will gut you,” I grit out.
Those pesky little demons will not kill themselves—though how I wish they did, but when you’re evil to your core and your only purpose is to prey on those weaker than you, I suppose there is no reason to get depressed about life. Alas, this is not the moment to contemplate the mental health of demons—though, really, perhaps that is a good topic for a dissertation, which might earn me another commendation if all goes well.
Stop this, Minerva! You will not get any commendation for doing nothing.
In fact, the only thing I will get is a reprimand if I tarry for much longer, which will only serve to stoke my ire about not meeting my nightly quota, which might make me actually gut him.
I may not be too well versed in human biology, but I am pretty sure if I were to gut him, he would die, and I cannot have that. Not that I feel any type of empathy toward him since he didn’t feel any toward that demon either—though from his point of view, he was merely a man trying to harm me, a small girl (okay, when you look at it like that, perhaps it doesn’t look as bad).
But he’s a human. Finite lifespans. Small, insignificant dots in the large scheme of things.
Honestly, I don’t see why we cannot kill them.
“Big words for a tiny darling like you,” he murmurs in a low voice.
Does he not sense the danger he’s in?
So what if I’m tiny? I’m deadly!
My nostrils flare as I stare at him.
“Step. Away.”
“Now, darling, let’s not get all riled up. Where is your home? I will do my gentlemanly duty and see you home safely.”
Another smile.
What part of step away does he not understand? Is he hard of hearing?
“I do not require your assistance,” I mutter in annoyance as I make to move past him.
Once more, he blocks my path.
Surely I should be allowed to get away with a tiny bit of torture, no?
“Move aside, human,” I tell him harshly.
My entire body is trembling with anger. Just who does he think he is to speak to me like this? To encroach on my space and block my path.
I am visibly shaking, so much so it’s a wonder my spiritual energy is still under control.
He sees it too, and I expect him to finally realize the danger he’s in and leave me alone. Instead, he releases a loud sigh.
“You must be terrified, you poor little thing,” he continues as if he didn’t hear what I just said. “It’s all right. I will not harm you.”
“No. I will harm you.”
“There are so many bad gents around I’m sure you don’t know who to trust. But rest assured. I will see you home safely.”
He smiles again. This time showing his teeth. Rather nice teeth, though that is beside the point.
“Human!” I growl.
“There, there, darling. I know you must be scared but?—”
“ You should be scared,” I burst out, pushing my finger into his—rather hard—chest. “We’re in a dark alley. Don’t you have any sense of self-preservation?” I grit out.
He chuckles.
“I should ask you the same thing.”
This infuriating male! My anger rises to the surface and I do my best to calm down, lest I accidentally kill him. That would do me no good.
Humans are foolish, Minerva. They are young and inexperienced.
“You poor tiny thing,” he murmurs, grabbing my hand and holding it tightly in place. “It’s all right. I will keep you safe.”
I blink, momentarily shocked.
He? He will keep me safe?
I can’t even laugh because I am too astonished by his words—though this is quite a laughable situation.
I pull my hand and push him away from me.
“I will excuse your blindness due to the darkness since you humans have rather feeble eyesight,” I start in a haughty voice. “But I will have you know I am the scariest thing you will encounter here tonight. So move along before I am forced to hurt you.”
There. That’s it.
I’m quite proud of myself for getting the words out so coherently and without any outburst of energy that might send him flying. Although by the Source would I love to see him flying, preferably far, far away from me.
Except my words don’t move him. If anything, they seem to amuse him further.
“Tiny and scary, ain’t that right?”
“Stop commenting about my height,” I snap.
“It’s rather obvious.” He chuckles.
I narrow my eyes at him.
“It’s dark,” I point out drily.
He shrugs.
“I can hear you speak from down below,” he drawls, amusement dripping from his words.
“You…”
My anger gets the best of me and I fail to stop myself from punching him. Although I should pat myself on the back later on for not stabbing him with my ice dagger. Ah, the little things.
Even though I am more powerful than him—yes, even with my tiny body—he manages to parry my blow.
I frown.
How?
He can’t see in this darkness. That much is certain. Even I lack full visibility. Yet as I attempt to throw another punch, I am surprised to see him dodge that too.
How can he know where I’m aiming? Can he see through the darkness? Was my initial assessment wrong and he is not human?
But that’s impossible. I cannot detect any supernatural signature coming from him.
Going by his amused grin and laid-back attitude, he’s not even making too much of an effort to parry my blows. He’s simply swaying from side to side, using my strength against me.
Just as I try to hit him again, he catches my fist and pulls me close.
“Careful, darling. That’s quite dangerous.”
Yes! I am dangerous. He should fear me! He should. He’s only unscathed because I cannot afford to use the full extent of my powers on him. But if he were a demon or another deity… I would have already had him on his back, groaning in pain. Preferably with his insides spilling out.
“Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself,” he murmurs softly.
“I’m not hurting myself. I’m hurting you ,” I say through gritted teeth. He’s holding me tightly against his chest, and his breath fans over my cheek. It reeks of cigarettes.
Disgusting!
I push against his hold, still debating whether I should just send him flying in the air and wash my hands of this unfortunate situation once and for all. My brother will have my hide, but perhaps he will be understanding once I tell him about this unseemly harassment.
I mean, he called me tiny!
Tiny!
So what if I am tiny? But who says that to someone else’s face? Who even allowed him to speak to me? He should be punished for that alone. I should cut his tongue for daring to do that. He could survive fine without a tongue.
Never mind the fact that he is touching me. Mayhap I should add his hands to the list of bodily parts I must sever, too. Can humans survive without tongues and arms? I have heard of war amputees whose limbs were severed to prevent infection and they survived, but I suppose they still had their tongues intact.
If only I could have the freedom to experiment with how many parts I could remove from him before dying without worrying I might be punished for killing a human…
Alas, I have learned my lesson that humans are quite obnoxious, so I will keep my distance from now on. As long as I don’t interact with them, I won’t feel the urge to kill them, right?
“You must have been taught that all gents are evil, but that’s not true, darling. It’s fine. You can let it all out. I’m here to protect you.” His voice is so damn soft and warm.
Is he…dumb?
I blink slowly as I focus on his features.
His green eyes sparkle as he smiles at me.
He’s not joking. He actually believes I’m some mere girl in need of saving when, in fact, he is the one who will need saving.
In a moment or two. Once I decide if breaking the rules is worth the future punishment.
I might be annoyed, but I have to admit that the cigarette smell is not all that obnoxious, especially combined with leather and spice.
Minerva! Focus!
“Get your hands off—” A loud noise coming from above cuts my words off.
It’s a buzzing, almost static type of noise.
He looks up, too, face scrunched in concern.
Everything happens so fast. One moment, we’re searching for the source of the noise. The next, his arms are around me, shielding me from a deafening explosion.
A burst of light erupts in the darkness, illuminating the surroundings.
“What…” I mutter, my eyes growing wide with shock.
Tendrils of fire blaze in the air, accompanied by shrilling screams of pain.
Another loud explosion, and debris flies in the air, together with smoke and fumes.
The previously dark sky of the night is now a thousand shades of gray and small, almost translucent yellow stripes reflecting the fire below.
“You good, tiny darling?” His voice penetrates my mind.
I slowly turn to face him.
The power of the explosion had propelled both of us backward and onto the ground. His arms are still around me, holding tightly—too tight.
My mouth parts as I get ready for another set down, but I don’t even have time to speak as cries for help erupt in the air, together with wails of sorrow and screams of pain.
The stillness of the night is no longer still. It’s clogged with suffering…and death.
He pulls me to my feet, looking me over a couple of times before he nods to himself. His features are tense, the scar on the right side of his face more prominent than before.
Without a word, he leaves my side.
As in, he leaves me alone.
I blink.
Well…that was unexpected.
This is what it took for him to finally leave me alone? An explosion?
“Humans,” I grumble to myself.
He probably fled in fear.
Weak lot, these humans.
I dust my clothes and walk out of the alleyway. I should probably scout other areas for demons. If I’m lucky, I might be able to get another one before dawn. That would bring my total to one hundred ninety-five. Just five short of two hundred. Of course, considering some are close to five hundred already, I am still nowhere near where I should be if I want to earn that commendation.
I’m about to head in the direction opposite the explosion, but my eyes are inexplicably drawn to the mayhem.
Two buildings have collapsed—totaled to the ground. A fire is raging in the second one, eating at the wooden foundation and growing stronger by the second.
A couple of people have gathered around the ruins of the first building, grabbing onto rubble and pieces of concrete and moving them out of the way in search of survivors. Though with the state of the building… I doubt there’s anyone still alive in there.
Wait a moment…
I glance around and retrace my steps from the party, counting down the buildings. My eyes slowly widen at the realization that the explosion occurred in the building where the party was held.
Something else catches my eye.
A military uniform, but the person wearing it is not among the casualties. It’s one of the people working to get them out.
That male…
I take a step forward.
The fire illuminates his face. Sweat and soot are gathered on his brow as he wipes his ash-ridden hands against his skin. He’s pulling onto a large piece of concrete by himself, but I doubt he’s going to move it.
A whoosh of air sweeps past me.
I look to the side to see a dozen or more messengers appear on the street, walking in a procession toward the building.
One by one, souls rise from the rubble. They are disoriented and confused, the perfect combination to allow the messengers to take them to the afterlife in a smooth process.
Each messenger latches onto one soul and opens a portal toward P’asala, the intermediary realm through which all souls must pass in order to be sorted into their afterlife by merit.
There are maybe thirty or forty souls in total that are taken.
I await silently by the side to ensure no demon shows up to attempt to consume the souls.
But something isn’t right. There were more than forty people in that basement alone.
I close my eyes and recall the images from before, doing my best to approximate the number of people at the party.
I did not see everyone, but I am certain there were at least double that number. And if their souls have not left their bodies then…
They’re either alive or they’ve been consumed.
I purse my lips as I try to detect any demonic signature, but there is none.
At the same time, the male from before, Lucien, stops what he’s doing. His hands are full of deep lacerations, his fingernails half broken and bloody.
He’s breathing hard as he calls for more help to lift the big concrete block. The only other person present, another male, is working on the other side, pulling on some metal bar.
But he’s not calling for help from that male. He’s calling for help from the people who are watching this tragedy from their windows, their faces barely visible as they peek outside. But they’re there. Watching. Not moving. Not coming down to help.
I glance around and note that some cars have stopped at the end of the street, but those people, too, just stand there and stare.
Perhaps it’s the shock.
If I were human, a feeble creature with a limited lifespan, perhaps I would be shocked too. Afraid that something could happen to me. That I could be next.
A bomb likely caused the explosion. That buzzing sound? A plane—an enemy plane. And with the way the fire is raging out of control in the second building, it’s easy to see why people would be wary to help. More planes could come and drop another bomb in the area, the fire serving as a beacon of death.
They could be instantly killed.
Yet that male…that soldier… He doesn’t seem concerned with that.
In fact, he’s oddly unconcerned about his own safety, despite the fact that he was so insistent I care about mine not a few moments ago.
Odd. Very, very odd.
“There are people down here!” he yells, looking around and pleading with the bystanders. “Alive.”
The fire crackles in the air, the only sound other than his ragged voice.
“We have to get them out,” he shouts in frustration when the concrete slab doesn’t move no matter how much he pulls at it.
With a loud curse, he steps back, his chest rising up and down as he labors to breathe. He wipes his sweat from his face, smearing more soot and blood on his skin.
Then his eyes meet mine.
He tilts his head to the side.
“You. Come help!”
M-me? I can’t do that! I can’t get involved in mortals’ lives. And if their fate is to die today, then I cannot stop that from happening.
He stares at me in an unusual manner.
“Give me a hand here, darling.”
I ignore him and turn to leave.