She glared at him. “If you think I’m going anywhere with you…” Unable to think of anything to threaten him with, her sentence drifted lamely into silence.
It was a definite shortcoming – never being able to come up with witty comebacks. She’d have to work on it when she got home. Jamie wasn’t any better at it, but maybe she’d ask Rob for some advice the next time she saw him…
Her attacker finally deigned to give her his full attention, turning his gaze on her. His expression was less inscrutable now – there was no mistaking the impatience and displeasure at having to deal with what was – at least in his eyes – an impertinent child.
“I could make you.” He said quietly and lightly enough that the words weren’t a real threat. But somehow, he managed to convey the threat in the eerie calmness of his tone.
His unflappable composure only served to feed her anger. She could feel it uncoiling within her, like a massive dragon, woken from a long slumber. She stared at him brazenly, but suppressed an involuntary shiver as his eyes pierced through her.
His eyes were startlingly blue. They started as a shade of deep indigo surrounding dark pupils; spreading in starlight flashes to a cool, clear turquoise. It seemed as if every shade of blue was represented, from the deepest fathoms of the ocean to the brightest summer sky.
Thick, dark eyelashes framed those unusual eyes, each one seemingly drawn in individually. His face was made of elegant lines, with pale skin as if kissed by moonlight. He was unbearably handsome, the type that would turn heads anywhere in the world.
Acknowledging this only annoyed her further. After her long hike and tumble through the nightmare doorway, she felt dusty and disheveled. Even at the best of times, there was nothing particularly extraordinary about her. She’d long since made peace with her average looks – pretty enough, but never beautiful. She rarely had reason to compare herself in the looks department, but in the face of such perfection she felt like a discarded old boot and definitely on the back foot.
She won their staring contest when he turned to search the horizon again. There was new urgency in his voice as he turned back to her. “Come on – “ he urged, reaching out towards her.
She jumped lightly away from him, dancing further out of his reach. There was no mistaking the exasperation on his face when he turned back to her and she felt a brief flash of utterly childish joy at his ruffled composure.
He glanced back at the horizon before throwing her another frustrated glance. Finally, he shrugged – a beautiful, careless gesture. “Fine. Have it your way.” He said lightly, having schooled his features back to their original expressionless state.
His sudden change in attitude threw her completely off balance, any triumph she might have felt at him giving in instantly dissipated into the grey sky.
Confused, she watched as he reached over his shoulder and extracted a sword from the twin leather baldrics he wore, crisscrossing his chest. Instinctively, she backed away from him, nearing tripping over her feet in her urgency to get away from him.
He raised an eyebrow at her, before throwing the sword down at her feet.
Not sure of his intentions, she scrambled for it. The sword was heavier than she expected, but she managed to heft it up, turning the pointy end at him, which was about all the knowledge she could muster about swordplay. Her attempt at being threatening was rather let down by the trembling in her fingers, which reverberated up the entire length of the sword such that it wobbled uncontrollably in her hands.
His eyebrow rose even further and a shadow of a smile ghosted the corners of his lips. “I’m not what you need to be afraid of.” He said lightly, “I’m here to help you.”
He looked over her shoulder, “They’re what the sword is for.”
Having apparently said his piece, he leant casually against the tree, closing his eyes as if to catch a quick nap.
Allyra kept the sword trained on him – even though she was fairly certain that she was just as likely to kill herself with it as do anything useful. Still uncertain if this was a ploy to distract her, she tried to maintain her attention on him, while sneaking a glance over her shoulder.
Finally – in the distance, she saw three dark shapes. They were moving with unnatural speed, but there was a haziness in the air around them that obscured her vision and she couldn’t make out who or what they were. But there was something about the shapes that unsettled her – some combination of size and movement that suggested they weren’t quite human.
Regret wasn’t an emotion she felt often – Allyra was used to making decisions quickly and living with the consequences. But as the shapes moved ever closer, she was quickly regretting her decision. She glanced at her attacker – he was still leaning nonchalantly against the tree, a picture of perfect indifference. Deep, even breathing suggested he might actually be sleeping.
It happened with explosive suddenness, like a cheap scare from a horror movie. A black shadow flew at her, taking on an unreal, wraith-like quality until its hand solidified around her throat. She didn’t even get a chance to lift the sword clutched in her hands.
Cold – that was her first thought. It felt as if her very breath was freezing within her. She tried to claw the icy, clammy fingers from her throat, but she was so, so weak.
Life was draining out of her…
Talons clawed her mind, piercing her consciousness. Nightmarish images started to flood through her, layer upon layer of horror.
Emma lying dead, her bright blue eyes opaque and sightless, blood pooling around the deep wound across her delicate throat.
Rob slumped across the steering wheel
