Page 19 of Dead By Dusk

“Just fucking hit me already,” I grit out in annoyance. He huffs out an amused chuckle before I throw an axe towards his right side. He swings his body left, but I was waiting for that precise reaction, thrusting down my second axe toward his shoulder. He catches the movement and attempts to block the impact, but it’s fruitless. I feel it the moment the blade slices through his skin. Not deep enough to kill, but definitely deep enough to leave a nasty scar from his jaw down to the side of his neck.

The man stumbles back, clutching his wound, and I can only think about how lucky he was. If he hadn’t caught the movement in enough time, his efforts to dodge the weapon would have resulted in me not piercing his neck, but the side of his head instead. His mouth twists as he applies pressure, and I see the dark liquid flow and glisten in the last beams of sunlight flitting through the trees and onto his fingers.

I can’t stop the smile that pulls on my lips.

“Nathaniel, if you don’t let her go, you both die now. I would hate for six of us to become four and then two. I’ve had quite an eventful few hours. I would like to just go on my merry way,” I say, and the two men observe me silently. “Please, I would hate to have to put an axe in your head. You seemed nice. Not your buddy though, I think he could use a nice little hat, and red might just be his color.” Nathaniel’s eyes widen in shock as his partner blanches at my sentiment.

“I’m sorry, Silene, just put your weapons down and we can ta—”

“Wrong answer,” I say and begin to take a confident step forward but immediately still when I feel sharp metal digging into my neck. I don’t dare breathe too deep as I feel the presence behind me get closer and closer. His body heat envelopes me,and my breathing hitches just slightly as his own fans against my ear.

“Not so quick there, Killer. Your math was wrong. There’s five of us, and if you don’t slow down here I might think you’re trying to kill my best friend. And that…well, that wouldn’t be very nice, now would it?” His voice is deep and mocking. It’s one that could command armies and no one would dare question a single demand that escapes his lips. Somehow cold and distant, while also being warm and friendly. A humoured undertone to his words. A complete dichotomy if I’ve ever heard one. And I think I have, at least in a recent dream. A memory. This is a voice I’ve fought with before.

“Now, I’m going to ask you very nicely: please put the axe down so we can have a civilized conversation,” he says. I slowly exhale and extend my empty arm out, palm face up, then slowly lift my other arm. The second I release the axe from my hands, the pressure of his knife disappears, and I quickly reach for one of my sheathed daggers, the black one that feels like home, and face the man.

His reaction is quick, but not quick enough. I push him against the closest tree and hold the blade to his neck. Now that he’s in front of me, I see him for the first time. His skin is tan, but definitely paler than mine. Dark raven hair falls onto his forehead, his fade overgrown. He has freckles that dance across his nose and dark eyelashes that frame the most beautiful and capacious set of blue eyes I have ever seen. They’re boundless and captivating and too damn familiar and suddenly neither of us are smiling.

My hand that holds the blade to his throat quivers ever so slightly. I begin shaking my head and trying to back away as darkness clouds my vision. His hands are on either side of my face, cradling it like it’s something to behold.

As ifI’msomething to behold.

But darkness keeps creeping up on me the same way that the night approaches us now. It’s inevitable and to believe otherwise would be such a terrible, terrible way to drive yourself mad. So I let myself fall into it, slowly. In the distance, I hear Carmen scream my name, and it echoes in my ears. I see her get further and further away as she tries to crawl to my falling body while Nathanial struggles to keep her still. I feel strong arms wrap around me, catching me and laying me down gently as if I’d break if I fell too hard.

I vaguely remember whispering his name as if it were a plea before everything went dark.

“Ronan.”

10

Rotting Dreams: Silene

“It’s such a quiet thing to fall,” a soft, melodic voice says over my shoulder. Shifting my body to the right, I glance behind me to see Carmen standing there, looking out of the same window as me. Her face conveys a look of understanding. I turn back to the courtyard, where my gaze had originally been glued to. Nathaniel’s lithe body deflects so many of Ronan’s swings. They had been sparring for hours, alternating between offense and defense.

I see the brilliant smile bloom on Ronan’s face as he finally gets past Nate’s defenses, effectively leaving him weaponless and splayed on the ground. They’re both drenched in sweat, both heaving as their chests rise and fall. They’re unmoving beside the words that pass between them, too far away for me to hear, but they seem as if they’re ready to finish up for the day. Ronan extends his hand and helps Nate up, and it’s then that I turn back toward the woman behind me.

Some might call her odd, but I find that those are the ones unwilling to try and understand her. I think her a dreamer. She speaks of dreams as if they’re facts, as real as any of us, and maybe she’s right. I’ve never known her to be wrong about anything before, no matter what anyone else may say or think.

“What is it that you mean?” I ask her with my eyebrows drawn tightly together. She only gives me a small smile before looking past me into the courtyard again. “To fall. It’s quite quiet, is it not? Not something you hear or see coming, just something that simply is.”

I let my gaze travel back to the men, now standing side by side and walking back to the building together, laughing at something one of them had said, I’m sure. “Even when you’re unsure and trying to convince yourself that it’s impossible. It’s nothing more than a whisper of a thought going against the actuality of the situation. You don’t have to say it aloud for it to be true, Silene.”

I slowly turn to face her again, keeping my eyes on Ronan for as long as possible, but when they finally land on where my little dreamer stood, they’re met with nothing more than an empty room and open door. Her absence washes over me at the same time as her words, and I peer back outside and track Ronan’s every step. It was then that I realize I knew exactly what she meant. I knew what she was telling me. The problem isn’t that I had been trying to deny it. If anything, I had accepted it long ago, I think.

Loving him was never a problem. It came to me as easily as the shore meeting the sea. There was no end I would not be willing to meet if it meant he was there in whatever afterlife my soul found itself in.

When I met him, he had given me a purpose. I hate that it was one born of a pure need to be the best, but it was. Before him, I was nothing but someone who had been hired on as atemporary head for hire, having to prove herself worthy of a full-time position. But him? He was the best. It instilled a desire in me to stand where he stood. To be as respected as I was feared. To be as openly vulnerable as I was physically strong. He was everything I didn’t just want to be, but needed to be.

If I had never started working for Robert Delgado, this burning need would have never caught fire within me. Mr. Delgado was one of the wealthiest men in the country, one of those old money types who believed most women had no purpose outside of the kitchen or bedroom. Despite this, he liked to say he was an equal opportunist, that he was willing to hire a woman for the job he needed, as long as she could prove herself worthy and capable. At one point in time, his men all had been on active assignments. When an emergency came up, he needed a quick and capable body to handle them for him.

At this time, I was in the underground fighting scene and heard about the position from one of my opponents before we entered the ring. One hour and two wins later, I found myself in my shitty apartment doing whatever research I could on the Delgado family. While there were no mentions of any shady dealings and no criminal records on anyone in his circle, he definitely appeared to be the type to keep his hands clean while outsourcing his dirty work, which was perfectly fine for me as someone who needed a stable job and thrived in the little gray areas.

The next morning I found myself on a train heading for his estate, where I told him I wanted the job and that no wasn’t an answer I was willing to accept. Bold? Possibly. Presumptuous? Most definitely. However, I was someone who believed in herself enough to make such demands. And if his only complaint was that I was not a man, I would prove to him I could be better.

Maybe he found amusement in the fact that I was bold enough to walk straight up to his door and demand a job, or maybe I was just naive enough to believe that was the case. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, and when he drafted up a contract, it only reaffirmed my suspicions. But I was always up for a challenge.

So I accepted. Through the next several weeks, I killed for him and asked no questions. Occasionally, I’d even brought someone back alive when it was requested of me. I did everything I was told, never talked back, put in extra time training when I wasn’t out on jobs, and worked strictly on a case-by-case basis. Not allowed a full-time position until I could prove myself the way the others had.

Determined isn’t a strong enough word to describe how I felt, and this feeling increased tenfold the second the rest of the team showed up. All men, which makes sense given the boss, but all seemingly strong in their own right. One that screams arrogance, another that looks outright dangerous, and the last one who seems…watchful—guarded, even. Not in a way that says he’s unapproachable, but he gives the impression he doesn’t justlookat anything, but instead,seeseverything.

---