Chapter Killian
Killian
When Killian spotted Finare’s car outside of Lunarian, a fiendish grin spread across his features.
His black muscle car’s engine growled as he forced it around a corner to park it out of sight.
Maybe I’ll be able to pack up and return to Diarom tonight, he mused, as he made his way towards the club.
Lunarian was thrumming with activity as usual, but it didn’t take long for Killian to locate Finare and the Fledgling.
They were seated at a high table to the side of the bar in the main area of the club.
He obscured himself within a darkened archway on the mezzanine as he did the night before to observe them.
It quickly became apparent that Voresta wasn’t around. That’s one complication out of the way. To say there was animosity between he and Voresta was an understatement. Voresta hated Killian. That hatred ran far deeper than the Idthraki and Maurell clan rivalry.
Their feud began seventy years ago when they both inadvertently dated the same Human woman; a curly-haired redhead by the name of Elia.
When the truth bubbled up to the surface and the secret was free, Elia made her choice: Voresta.
Killian moved on, and the story would have ended there, had Voresta not Created Elia as his First.
What Voresta didn’t foresee was that Elia’s Creation changed the stakes: Drachen demanded her Ending, and Killian obliged.
In a beautiful twist of fate, Killian got the last laugh—he got revenge on his jilt as well as the male she chose over him.
It also satisfied Drachen’s wishes, keeping Killian in his good graces.
The chance to strike out against Voresta was a perk of this assignment.
Killian and Voresta were a similar age, and equally matched in size, strength and ability.
Killian wasn’t afraid to take Voresta on if he needed to—but if he could bypass him and complete the task faster, he would always take that option.
Killian tapped idly on his dagger, Cataplexis, which was strapped to his thigh, as he observed the Idthraki Broodlings. Soon.
Killian couldn’t help but notice that while Voresta had an obsessive need to protect, by comparison, Finare was inattentive to the point of carelessness.
Finare disappeared to the bar for chunks of time, flirting with the bartenders long after his drinks were handed over.
This left the Fledgling open and exposed, and solidified his belief that tonight would be the perfect opportunity to strike.
As luck would have it, such an opportunity unfolded before his very eyes.
Finare, after a brief exchange with the Fledgling, made his way through the crowds and started up the stairs to Killian’s position, presumably to one of the private rooms. Killian was unphased by Finare’s proximity as he knew he was concealed—it was the Fledgling’s movements he was laser-focused on.
At first, she appeared content to wait for Finare’s return.
She sipped idly on a beverage and watched the movements of the creatures on the nearby dance floor.
But after about fifteen minutes, he noticed a bored expression wash over her features before she began to move.
Shifting on his feet, Killian watched as she made her way towards the stairs.
His lips kicked up in a wicked grin as his target did all the work and made her way towards him.