Page 14 of Devil's Night

“You’re really committed to this whole bounty hunter thing, aren’t you?” Nicole asked, shaking her head with a smile.

“It’s what I do,” I replied with a nonchalant shrug. “Been doing it for longer than you’ve been alive, probably.”

Her eyes widened slightly at the reminder of just how ancient I truly was, at least by human standards. To the Vinduthi, a hundred years was but a blink of an eye in our long lifespan.

“Wow, I can’t even imagine,” she murmured, gaze drifting over my features as if trying to reconcile the notion.

An uncomfortable silence settled in the air, pressing down like a physical force. Nicole’s cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink, and she averted her eyes, straightening the papers on the desk.

I watched her, mesmerized by the graceful movements of her hands, the curve of her neck as she bent over the desk. A phantom touch ghosted along my jaw, a memory of the kiss we had shared. The hunger I had felt then, the raw need to possess her, came roaring back with a vengeance.

Perhaps being trapped here wouldn’t be so terrible, after all. I could spend my days mapping every inch of her body with my hands, my mouth. Learning the sounds she made when pleasure overtook her senses. Keeping her warm, sated, and trembling with desire. She would be mine, utterly and completely.

The fantasy played out vividly in my mind’s eye. Nicole, splayed out on crisp sheets, hair a wild halo around her flushed face. Her hazel eyes dark with want as she stretched her arms out to me, an unspoken invitation. I could almost taste the salt of her sweat on my tongue.

A sharp pang of guilt lanced through me, dousing the flames of my desire like a bucket of ice water. What was I thinking? This was no mere conquest to be had, a fleeting dalliance to while away the endless years. Nicole deserved better than to be trapped here, used for my own selfish gratification.

I was Vinduthi, a warrior bred for battle and honor. Depriving her of her freedom, her future…it went against every principle I held dear, no matter how tempting the thought. Morals had never been a strong suit of mine, but there were lines I refused to cross.

With an inward snarl, I forced the treacherous musings away. Nicole would make it back to her own time and her life. I would see to that, even if it meant denying the urges that raged within me.

A heavy thud echoed through the room, jolting me from my reverie. Nicole stood frozen, one hand outstretched as if she had just slammed the escritoire drawer shut. Her eyes were wide, lips parted in a silent “o” of surprise.

“What is it?” I demanded, already scanning our surroundings for threats. “Did you find something?”

She didn’t respond, simply pointed a shaking finger at the escritoire. Frowning, I strode over and yanked the drawer open once more.

There, nestled amongst quills and scraps of parchment, lay a tarnished metal card. A series of strange symbols were etched into its surface, glowing with an inner light that pulsed in time with my double heartbeats.

“The release card,” I breathed, scarcely daring to believe our luck. “You found it.”

Nicole nodded mutely, still staring at the object. Carefully, I plucked it from the drawer, holding it up to examine the arcane markings. Perhaps this truly was our way out, our chance at freedom from this twisted prison.

A flicker of movement in my peripheral vision had me whirling around, instincts taking over. Nicole squeaked, stumbling back a step as I shoved her behind me in one fluid motion. My other hand closed around the hilt of my blade, the familiar weight reassuring against my palm.

The shadows in the corner coalesced, shifting and contorting until they resolved into a towering, skeletal form. Bony fingers flexed, claws scraping against the wooden floor as the construct advanced with an unsettling, jerky gait. Empty sockets fixed on us, the impression of hunger and malice radiating from its eyeless gaze.

Another one of these bastards.

A low snarl built in my belly as I settled into a combat stance. So this was the price for our good fortune – another twisted creation of Doar’s to bar our path.

“Stay behind me,” I ordered Nicole, the words clipped and sharp.

She nodded again, face pale but determined. Good, she knew better than to argue or try to play the hero. Keeping her safe was my priority now.

The skeletal horror lunged, claws raking through the air where I had been standing a heartbeat before. I spun away, boots skidding across the aged floorboards as I attacked. Bone met steel with a jarring clang, sparks flying from the impact.

We traded a flurry of blows, the construct’s bony limbs whipping towards me with unnatural speed and strength. I parried and dodged, allowing my feral instincts to take over as the dance of battle swept me away.

A lucky strike clipped my shoulder, razor-sharp talons slicing through armored leather with ease. I hissed at the sting, dark ichor welling from the wound. The injury would heal soon enough, a mere flesh wound by Vinduthi standards.

Capitalizing on my momentary distraction, the horror lashed out again, aiming for my throat this time. I twisted aside, catching its arm and using its own momentum to send it staggering off balance. In the same motion, I spun, cleaving through bone and metal.

The construct crumpled to the floor, dismembered limbs clattering across the hardwood. I stood over its remains, chest heaving with the exertion of the fight. A thin sheen of sweat coated my brow as I reached up to swipe a trickle of blood from the corner of my mouth.

Only then did I turn to face Nicole once more. She stared at me with wide, unblinking eyes, one hand pressed to her lips. For a long moment, silence stretched out, heavy and charged.

“Are you alright?” Her voice trembled slightly.

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