Chapter Thirteen #3
Eleanor flicked her Attarician blade from her thigh and held it to the assailant’s throat. “You were asked nicely. I won’t be so nice,” Eleanor said, pitching her voice low.
The cloaked figure froze. They hadn’t heard her approach and hadn’t thought anyone would follow them. They’d got cocky, thinking this would be easy, not considering that she was roaming the streets tonight.
“Now I’ve got your attention. Raise the knife nice and slow,” Eleanor commanded, pressing her blade closer into his neck to make her point.
The girl’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Easy,” a gruff voice said, “was only having a chat, that’s all.”
Eleanor wasn’t going to indulge this thug in a conversation, and he let out a low hiss in response to her blade breaking his skin.
“Drop it,” she growled at him.
“ Fucking witch, ” he cursed, but slowly raised his hands, revealing the short knife.
The idiot had thought her threat was meaningless. Eleanor kept the pressure on his neck, letting a small trickle of blood spill. He dropped the knife in alarm, the clattering of the steel weapon echoing against the stone.
“Back up.” Eleanor growled, annoyed that the noise might have attracted some unwanted attention.
She kept an eye on the pair while listening to sounds coming from the alley entrance.
That was the last thing she needed tonight, someone thinking she was the perpetrator.
She didn’t fancy scaling the walls. In the surrounding buildings, there were few places to grip and climb, and the draining pipes were not strong enough to support her weight.
The pub and its ceramic pipes were as equally old.
“He hurt you?” Eleanor asked the girl, standing rigidly by the brick wall, her eyes fixed on the man’s face.
Eleanor was about to say more when the man slowly stepped back from the girl and the wall, his gloved hands raised. He turned to face her, the person who posed the biggest threat.
The sound of the girl’s hasty footsteps as she took off at a sprint down the alley momentarily distracted her.
It allowed him to grab his discarded weapon and lunged at her.
Eleanor jumped back to dodge his attack, and she collided with the wall.
The impact jarred her, but she moved back and away from the stone wall before he could slam into her.
He turned and swung widely at her. He aimed low, which made her move backwards to better block the punch from his other hand.
His cloak covered most of his clothes and head, and he had a scarf of some sort tied over his mouth and nose to hide his face, but no protective leathers.
Whoever he was, he had thought picking up the girl would have been easy prey tonight. He was wrong.
The man repeated his attack, swinging with his knife in one hand and throwing punches with his other hand, making her continuously block and move backwards.
Eleanor kept the glint of silver to the edge of her vision as it slashed through the air, each time aiming for her chest. His predictable attack betrayed his lack of training and inexperience fighting true predators.
After she feinted a counter, she realised he had been herding her, moving her towards the mouth of the alleyway, where he’d be able to better see her under the pub’s lights and have potential allies to his cause.
His knife came down onto her again, but this time, she twisted to the side and dragged her blade over his bicep.
Regardless of his unskilled attack, his feet showed his experience, keeping his balance nicely weighted as he pivoted with his back to the pub brawl.
Eleanor kept low and backed up, almost expecting him to turn and leave, but he made a growling sound in the back of his throat and followed her further into the dark alley.
She smirked under her cowl, knowing that she had angered him, and he’d make a mistake soon. He made a few jabs to test his arm, but she backed away from the hits. Eleanor hadn’t made a deep cut. It was enough for him to continue this fight, but he’d know and feel that she’d marked him.
Eleanor was caught in enjoying the fact that’d she’d made the first cut and momentarily forgot about his preference for a follow through with a punch from his other hand as she dodged his latest swing with a knife.
The punch landed on her jaw and something sharp pricked at her mouth. Eleanor’s head whipped back on impact, and she rapidly blinked her vision back from the dark spots. She lunged low, cutting into his thigh. It was deeper than the cut she’d made on his arm, but not deep enough to make him stop.
His eyes widened, as he hadn’t expected such a quick recovery from her. A mixture of panic and anger made him lunge high, which opened his body for her to slide low and under his arm, slashing her blade across his torso.
Instinctively, his arm went down to protect his fresh injury, but in a sweeping arc, Eleanor brought the butt of her blade down hard onto his temple, making him stagger sidewards.
She was disappointed he would not give her a better fight, as she pivoted and slammed her boot into his injured side, letting him collide into the wall with a crack.
While looking down at the lifeless body crumpled against the wall, Eleanor felt a sharp sting on her face. She touched her lips with the back of her hand. Blood.
Fuck .
Just what she needed was a split lip.
Eleanor let out an irritated huff, the sound sharp and explosive in the sudden silence. The fight hadn’t been enough to satisfy her, not for tonight.