Page 18 of Dark Shadow of Guilt

He caught a faint, familiar scent. Old books. The crisp, pure air between Angor and Vast. OneWorld oranges.

The human.

It was time to give a shit. Dom spun around while drawing his sword from the sheath on his back. The special rig had been made to account for wings. It was quite a contraption.

Swoosh.

He waved it in a figure eight. “Hey, Suckers.”

They didn’t bother to glance his way, but the biggest Scourge, still gripping the car frame, got mouthy. “Fuck off. She’s ours.”

Goddess.I hate it when they’re stupid.

“You’re wrong, asshole.” For giggles, he sliced an X in the younger Scourge’s dirty tee.

The guy glanced down at the pattern caused by the blade and dropped the front bumper. When his gaze slid to Dom, he owl-eyed him. “Haze, it’s an assassin.”

The biggest pale-skinned idiot released his hold on the car. “Dominion.”

“Haze. Nice to see you again. Whatcha got there?”

“A female. She’s stuck in the vehicle. We’re helping her out.”

Since he knew Haze was more bluster than muscle, Dom re-sheathed his sword. If he had to, he could take the guy out barehanded. “When did you get to be such a kind Scourge?”

Haze leaned against the auto, folded his arms, and kicked one foot over an ankle. “Oh, I thought maybe the OC would count my good deeds against time served.”

“If only,” said Dom, his lip curling into a sneer. “Back away. And stop feeding me emotions. Won’t work.”

The problem with Soul Suckers was they had to try. So, they bombarded you with emotions, hoping to break you. Or they extracted those you had to make you zombie-like. Right now, the three were struggling to give Dom an overload. Their efforts wouldn’t affect him since his receptors were locked down tighter than a celibate goddess’s snatch.

He’d know about abstinent goddesses, too. Once in Vast, when he’d been particularly horny, he flew over the Temple of Virtue. Backtracking, he dropped into the courtyard and tried to talk a chaste Immortal into having a go at him. She’d smacked his face and sent him on his way after giggling behind her palm for a sec. It had been worth a shot, though.

Sorry, bastards. Wrong guy.

The young, stupid Scourge said, “She’s ours. We saw her first.”

Wisely, Haze cautioned him, “Shut up.”

“This can go a few ways.” Dom raised his index finger. “One, I can walk away, leaving her to you. Let’s count that out. Not happening.” He lifted his middle finger. “Two, I can start lopping off body parts. My fave and likely to happen, or...”

He didn’t get any further because the oldest Soul Sucker in the trio, who still had a modicum of brain power, interrupted. “We get it.” He glanced at his buddies. “Let’s go back to finish what we started. The female Blood Leech in the bar’s a sure bet even if we have to stand in line.”

Dom wagged a thumb at the guy. “I like him. Now, hustle along. Live to be punished another day.”

After he watched the Soul Suckers march into the bar down the street, he peeked into the car. The female was in the center of the backseat, tucked forward, hugging her knees to her chest. A soiled, ripped blouse stuck to her body, damp from the hot, moist heat. She twisted her neck to stare at him.

She was human. Dom didn’t hold the species against her. It was what it was. He hadn’t had contact with her kind for centuries. Like many Immortals at that time, he’d been curious about the Immortal Gabriel’sHomo sapienscreations. So, he traveled to Earth to walk among them, finding them interesting. But the brief experience was enough. He’d returned to OneWorld, his curiosity satisfied. He did admit to a fascination with American TV shows, as did most Immortals. They imported the stuff, though he wasn’t sure how. Some things required more than a snap of the fingers. Of course, no one watched as much film or tube as Remi.

Dom motioned with curled fingers. “Get outta the car.”

She neither moved nor opened the door. Dom jiggled the handle. Locked. In case she hadn’t heard him, he raised his voice. “Now!”

She winced, curling into a tighter ball.

Maybe he was too gruff. He opted for the pleasant approach. “Human female, I’m a winged assassin for the OneCreator. Here to help you. Get the fuck out of the car.”

Much better. Almost caring.

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