AllFreeNovel
Share Us
In all of my time, and all of my disjointed memories, I can’t remember ever sharing a conversation with a mortal who I didn’t eventually need to reap.
In honesty, I don’t remember how I survived without Annette. She provides reason to my hunger, allowing me to see the corruption my reapings destabilize. She gives everything, my very purpose for existence, meaning.
We sit together over the crackling fire, and I take in every feature of her face. The way her green eyes shine against the orange burning light and how her hair burns like the sun.
I never want to leave her side.
15
ANNETTE
"But how can you be certain?"
Rukh gives me his signature knowing grin. "I can smell the rancid corruption from here, little one. Can you not?"
I raise a skeptical eyebrow, unsure exactly what that means. Without another word, he leads me to a ramshackle tavern loused with grizzled men clad in the mayor's insignia. "Observe," he murmurs.
Sure enough, they harass the other patrons aggressively, their crude jokes and flagrant use of women hinting at much worse misconduct. They flaunt this behavior in the middle of town? The other villagers clearly fear them.
"The corruption runs deeper than you know." He points across the street at a couple of drunk, leering men snatching a young woman and muffling her cries. My hands tingle with magical energy, ready to strike them down.
A restraining hand grips my shoulder. "Not yet. On my order." His voice is ice cold, his gaze fixed on the men like a wolf stalking his prey. "The sentence is clear, is it not?" he asks, eyes never leaving his prey.
I give a single, solemn nod.
“For such wickedness, there can be no mercy.” We stalk the thug at a distance as he drags the sobbing girl into a dim alley. I scan his clothing but see no insignia or other definitive signs of his allegiance. But nobody stops to help her. The twilight bystanders turn the other cheek.
The girl's muffled cries and the towns’ apathy stab at my heart. "We must intervene. We can’t just stand here," I insist, magic already glowing fuzzily in my palms.
But he stops my hand. "Patience. Their fate is sealed."
Reluctantly, I comply. The alley leads to a grim, windowless building. The thug pounds on the steel door, giving a slurred password. It swings open, and he disappears inside with his victim.
Rukh's eyes blaze with cold fury, "Now do you see? These kinds are a cancer in need of purging. If you take one, six more will appear. You need to excise the source so it can’t grow back."
“Then what are we waiting for?”
"A frontal assault would only get you killed, little one" he admonishes. "Patience and cunning are required here."
I take a deep, shuddering breath. "You're right. What do you have in mind?"
He points to a darkened window on the building's second floor. "We'll infiltrate from above and work our way down. Follow my lead."
He starts to scale the side of the building with preternatural dexterity and I’m left leaping for a handhold several feet higher than I can reach. I attempt to whisper-yell back up to him. He languidly looks at me and smirks, jumping down and landing without a sound.
“Grab on, sweet little field mouse,” he insists, and I wrap my arms around his neck. This time, he seems to bound the side of the building even quicker, the rush of wind zipping past my ears almost eliciting a very unstealthy shriek.
I brush it off as we stand at the window. He traces an intricate sigil on the glass with a single extended claw that silently dissolves to grant us entry.
Inside, the building is all shadowy corridors and muffled voices. At the top of the stairwell, we pause. The drunken laughter of men echoes up along with faint cries from the girl. I move to rush down, but Rukh stops me with a look.
On the table are pamphlets and what looks like propaganda. I nod. Together, we melt into the shadows. Descending silently into the viper's nest, we’re ready to strike.
Suddenly a door swings open and a brutish thug steps out, freezing as his eyes meet mine. Before he can shout, Rukh moves in a blur.
The man gives a brief wet gurgle as Rukh's claws plunge deep into his throat. Dark blood sprays in pulsing spurts as he vainly claws at the gaping wounds. Without a sound, the body drops while the lifeblood still pumps from his ruined neck.
Rukh flicks the steaming crimson fluid from his talons and meets my eyes. "The next will do no better," he vows coldly. Heavy footfalls sound from around the corner, and I know reinforcements are coming. But Rukh seems in no hurry, languidly drawing out his macabre banquet for several more seconds.
