Still on my knees, I managed to grab hold of the arm, so that the assailant couldn’t strike right away. I punched towards the ribs, but he was too quick, shifting sideways. I quickly recovered and pushed myself off the other side of the bed. In one leap he cleared the small cot.
I ducked and brought up my arm, striking his chin. I backed into the empty space between rows of cots, trying to get decent fighting ground.
I could see him a little bit more now, though he made it damn hard to be seen even with my night vision. Covered in black, with some jets of blue hair sticking out from the top, shorter than me and more wiry, he moved with the confidence of someone who expected to win.
That could work to my advantage.
His eyes narrowed - his eyes, which were completely dark blue without any white. They were stunning, and would be quite a distraction, if I wasn’t terrified for my life. And concerned about my dog, who hadn’t made a noise since that thunk and yelp.
Anger ignited my limbs, and I gave up defending and went for a quick attack, faking left and bringing my knee up to hit him in the groin. He feigned, avoided my blow, but I grabbed his arm as he regained his balance and turned him back to put him in an arm lock.
Damn guy moved fast, shaking me loose as though I was a mere inconvenience, and threw me back against the wall. The impact jolted my entire body, stars erupting like a crazy kaleidoscope of glitter.
I slid to the floor, trying really hard not to lose consciousness. I doubted that would be to my advantage.
The back of my head smarted. My eyes stung with unspent tears. I pushed myself back to my knees. I looked up, bringing my arms up defensively to brace for another blow. But it wasn’t me he was after. He rifled through my things, pulled out Clay’s guild sigil, pocketed it, and started to walk away.
Like hell!
I pushed myself up and was on his back in two bounds. I wrapped my right arm around his neck and held it with my left hand to choke him. He hadn’t expected me to come at him again, so I managed to catch him unaware.
“Love your confidence,” I said, wrapping my legs around him to force him down and knock him out.
“Get off me!” he answered in a gravelly voice, as his hand reached up, grabbed me by the back, and easily tossed me straight off of him.
Okay. Confidence wasn’t great for either of us.
He was strong - a lot stronger than I was. I caught myself before I flew into the wall this time, hitting it with my feet instead, and used the force to springboard off the wall and back his way.
That would have been great, if I’d had a weapon on me. But I didn’t.
Our eyes met, and for a split second, I could tell even in the dark blue eyes that he was surprised at my inability to just lay low when he obviously didn’t want to hurt me, and just wanted me to go away while he stole what he needed to.
Like hell I’d let him steal Clay’s things.
In the split second this all happened, he pulled out a gun, ready to fire at my incoming head, looking discouraged. I managed to register that this was probably how I was going to die - alone, forgotten, body never found or identified.
If Clay still lived - and I hoped he did - he’d probably spend some time looking for me. But that was it.
Wow.
I brought up my arms to cover my head, instead of trying to pummel him. He fired the gun, the echoing sound followed by an angry yelp.
I hadn’t gotten shot, but only because the dog had bitten down on his calf, throwing off the assailant’s aim. I shifted right and landed an elbow on his nose.
He screamed, part in annoyance, part in pain, and I reached into his pocket and pulled the sigil out.
“That’s mine!” I said, and jumped back.
“No it isn’t, little girl,” he responded. He definitely sounded annoyed. Maybe even a little bit more than annoyed. Definitely on the murderous end of things.
It was time to get out of here. I knew when I was outmatched. He was stronger and way better armed than me. I suddenly wished I’d have swiped a weapon instead of a useless medallion.
“How about we just call it a day?” I said, holding up my arms. Maybe I could talk my way out of this one. “I mean, you’re not going to get this without a hell of a fight. And, as you can see, I can give a hell of a fight.” I grinned my most disarming grin. “So maybe we should just call this even, as it were? And just go on our merry ways? What do you think?”
His right eyebrow rose very, very slowly. The only reason I could see his eyebrow was because I’d shifted his face covering when I’d thwacked him so hard. That made me feel doubly good.
“Give me the medallion,” he said, “and then you can walk away. I’ve no use for you.”
“Well, that’s nice,” I answered, “but it’s my friend’s medallion, and I’d like to give it back to him. So how about you just leave, and once I find my friend again and give it to him, we can maybe have a talk, all three of us, and see if you should get it. Does that sound fair?”
The dog came around and stood in front of me, ready to pounce. I felt better for having an ally. As good as my negotiation techniques were, I didn’t think I was winning this one.
Laughter broke free of the assailant’s lips. It wasn’t immediately clear to me whether that was good or bad.
“I’m almost sorry that sigil isn’t for you!” he said. “I think you’d be fun to have around! But no. It’s not. So you either give it to me, or I’m going to have to kill you.”
Negotiations were definitely not going well, I decided.
I did a quick scan of my surroundings. There were no windows for me to escape out of, and the door was much too far for me to make it.
Two daggers flew into his hands. He lazily twirled them around, obviously comfortable with throwing them.
I could give him the sigil. But it was my only clue to finding Clay. I wouldn’t just be giving up this piece of metal. I’d be giving up Clay.
And I wasn’t ready to do that.
“No,” the word slipped from my lips before I could think better of it.
Three actions happened in quick succession. None of them were mine, because I just stood frozen in surprise at my own answer. My survival instincts were not super refined, it turned out.
The first thing that happened was that a knife went flying from the right hand of the assailant - a smooth, easy, almost lazy arc straight towards my chest.
The second thing that happened was that the dog threw himself in its direction and screamed in pain.
But he kept his forward thrust, as though the knife formed but an inconvenience, and went straight for the assailant’s throat.
He hit, and dark blood shot out.
The assailant screamed and back-handed the dog into the wall. Max crumpled and didn’t get back up.
The assailant clutched his throat. I didn’t think it was an arterial bleed. It wasn’t gushing strongly enough to be that. But he was thrown off balance.
I leapt forward, kneed him in the gut, and managed to steal one of his daggers as I swept past him.
He grunted and fell down, blood still dripping from his neck. And then, gentle smoke rose around him - wisps of purple clouds hugging him, not unlike a gentle lover’s caress.
He vanished.
“That’s a neat trick,” I said, my hand going to the back of my head where it had hit the wall. It came away covered in blood.
I’d live.
Max!
I flew to his side. He panted, but his eyes were wide and still conscious, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. The knife had hit his shoulder. With any luck, the wound would heal and not grow infected.
“I’m going to have to pull this out,” I said. Max stopped panting for a second as though he understood. I placed my hand over the wound, and then I pulled the knife out quickly. He yelped but didn’t bite me. I covered the wound as best I could, not exactly sure how to do first aid on a dog.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said. I grabbed my bag and C
lay’s few things. I picked up the dog. He was heady so I wouldn’t be able to make it too far, but he couldn’t walk in his condition. And I wasn’t the type to leave my friends behind - especially those who’d taken a knife for me.
We stepped past the still-empty desk, out of the dark and soul crushing space of the halfway house, and into the night.
Shadows have always brought me comfort, but I couldn’t help but stare into them with suspicion. Had that fighter been alone? Which other Traded would come here, and what could they do?
I needed to find somewhere safe, and I needed to do it quickly. Max’s breaths were a bit too quick and uneven. He needed to rest and heal.
I folded the shadows around us and walked down the alley as quickly and quietly as I could.
“Shhh,” I told Max, afraid he’d start whining. But he remained quiet, despite his erratic breathing. There had to be some kind of apartment or some abandoned place where I could find refuge. Somewhere where people wouldn’t expect me to be.
I still had a few hours before dawn, and tomorrow was Sunday. If school hadn’t lied, which they might have, it should be a quieter day tomorrow, which was good. Might buy us more hiding time in one place.
I turned down the busy strip, which was much quieter now, though a few people still wandered around. I barely had the time to register what people wore or what they were doing, focusing on keeping the shadows wrapped around us, holding Max, being quiet, and finding someplace safe to sleep.
That was a big to-do list, as my head ached and buzzed with fatigue now that the adrenaline had left my body. The strip grew quieter the further I walked. After a few more blocks, I spotted a furniture store, its lights mostly dimmed.
Within, I could see its setup, all fake walls creating display rooms. I walked by its door, and glanced at the store hours. They wouldn’t be open again until noon tomorrow.
I grinned. The walls would hide us from the street, and we would be safe for a few hours. We could sleep, heal, and be gone before the workers came for the day. And no one would look for us in a fancy store.
Perfection.
“Let’s go rest,” I whispered to Max, who remained quiet in my arms, save for his breathing.
I headed to the back of the store, found the door.
“I’m just putting you down a second,” I told Max, who looked at me with big woeful puppy eyes and panted as I laid him on the pavement. I dropped my shadows, so he wouldn’t lose sight of me and panic.
This furniture store didn’t take the chance of theft seriously enough, as far as I was concerned. I easily picked the lock and disarmed the alarm system within two minutes.
“Come on,” I told Max, and gently picked him up. He gave a tiny whine. “I’m sorry,” I said. “We’ll be comfy soon.”
He remained quiet and I slipped in, locking the door behind me.
“I think we’ll be safe here,” I told Max. I found a nice bedroom layout in the back of the store. Great setup, and secure from the outside view. The lights in the back of the store were turned off, only a few lights lit near the front.
I gently put Max down at the end of the large, plump bed.
“Let me see your wound,” I said, and he lowered his head as though bracing for the blow. It wasn’t bleeding anymore, which surprised me a bit. “You heal quickly,” I said. “Good boy.” I patted his head and his tail wagged a bit.
Relieved that he would be fine, I slipped into the bed. I still wore my blue jumpsuit, which was a mess now, covered in blood and dog fur. Too tired to care, I snuggled in the sheets, the dog a comforting weight at my feet.
I wondered who our assailant had been. The way he’d spoken, it sounded like he was from the same guild that had invited Clay. I wish I’d have asked more questions, but I hadn’t really had the time with him trying to kill Max and I.
Why had he come to collect the medallion? How had they known it would be there?
I stared at the dark ceiling, Max’s snores comforting my dark thoughts. They knew, because they had Clay, and they’d made him tell them. I imagined them torturing Clay, and I gripped the sheets tightly in my fists.
I now deeply regretted not having had the chance to kill the assailant.
Chapter Ten
I don’t recall ever having been in such a comfortable bed. The mattress was squishy, the sheets wonderfully soft, the duvet (a duvet!) poufy.
Not that I had much experience in the matter, but I was pretty certain that this was, in fact, the perfect bed. Or it might just be the first time that I’d snuggled in a bed that wasn’t just a necessity, a hard slab.
I snuggled deeper into the blankets, trying to come up with a plan, still coming up empty. If I could have followed the man, I might have found Clay.
I sighed. I had no idea what to do and, to make matters worse, I’d have to get up soon. The quality of the light was changing, so dawn was breaking.
Not ready to commit to the day, I focused on the sounds around me and the comfort of this bed. The ticking of a clock somewhere deeper into the store. The buzzing of the front window lights left on overnight, to ward off the darkness. The slight snoring of the puppy at my feet.
I frowned. That didn’t sound quite right. The quality of the snoring was a bit long and deep for Max. And had he taken up this much room on the bed last night?
Alerted that something was off, I suddenly became very, very awake. I’d hidden a dagger underneath the pillow, grateful I’d had the presence of mind to do at least that much.
I reached down, found the hilt and took comfort in it. I shifted gently. The breathing and shape were all wrong for Max. What had they done with him, and why were they sleeping at my feet?
Creeptastic.
The form shifted, moved slightly, stopped snoring.
They were awake, too.
Time to move.
Fearing the blanket might entangle me, I didn’t bother trying to stand and just sat up, ready to stab. I half expected to find a well-armored and well-armed assailant at the edge of my bed. Instead, there lay a curled-up, very naked man.
I hesitated. I hadn’t exactly expected this.
The man’s eyes flew open and grew wide as he saw me staring at him. He threw himself off the bed, landing with a thud.
“Who the hell are you?” I demanded, pushing the blankets off of me, putting some distance between me and the naked man.
“I’ll just go!” he said. “It’s okay!” he added, as though to comfort me.
“I’m not the one who’s going to need comforting!” I spat out. “Tell me who you are and where my dog is, or I’m going to eviscerate you!”
He didn’t immediately answer, and I didn’t feel like waiting him out.
“Come up now or I will kill you.”
Two hands popped up, followed by a head and a naked torso. He remained kneeling, so that’s as far as I saw. Which was fine by me. This day had been shocking enough already, and it was just beginning.
“Look, if you’ll just let me leave,” he repeated, “I’m sure that you’ll find your dog again...”
“I’m sure that I’ll find my dog again,” I calmly said, “when you tell me what you did with him. Possibly while I’m eviscerating you.”
He sighed in frustration, and looked sideways, towards the front of the store, where dawn softly infiltrated.
“I can’t get the puppy,” he said, “unless you let me go.”
“We’ll see about that.” I shrugged, flipped the knife, caught it by the blade, and extended my arm back to throw it at him. I aimed for the shoulder, but I was still pretty sleepy and willing to hit his face instead.
“Wait!” he shouted. “Look carefully into my eyes,” he added, sounding rather grumpy.
“I’m not gazing into your eyes,” I offered, extending my arm again. “This isn’t some kind of romantic encounter, despite the fact that you were in bed with me.”
“It’s not,” he added with even more frustration. “Look, I’m the dog, okay?”
&nb
sp; Well, that made me pause. I didn’t lower my hand though. I squinted at him and stared into his eyes. They were dark, just like Max’s, yes, and they definitely weren’t human now that I looked more closely. Their central darkness spread out too widely. He didn’t blink quite enough, either.
“You’re a dog?” Disbelief dripped into my voice.
“I can be,” he offered. He ran his hand through his wild, brown hair.
I looked more closely at him now - at the way he moved, at his body. He was muscular but lean - not wide, like Clay. Smaller, more agile. Stubble lined his jaw. His movements seemed measured, but not in the way a fighter’s were. More like an animal deciding whether or not to bolt.
In the end, it was to those eyes that I returned to. Dark, steady, unwavering. Like Max’s.
“Max?” I asked.
“My name is Ian.”
“That’s not a good name for a dog!” I retorted.
“I… no, I guess it’s not?” He looked both confused and even grumpier.
“Max is a good name for a dog,” I said.
“My name is Ian,” he repeated, ignoring everything I’d said. Maybe I’d just call him Max when he returned to his puppy form. He looked less grumpy as a dog.
“Wait, can you go back to being a dog?”
He shrugged. “I can. I can be a dog, or any other animal, depending on my mood and how I shift my energies.”
“Oh,” I said, now lowering my arm. “So you’re a Traded?”
“I am. Like you.”
“Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“Well, I was a dog…” he offered, sounding a little bit less grumpy. But still pretty grumpy.
“Well, that makes sense, I suppose. Couldn’t you just change back?”
He shrugged. “If I could control my powers, things would be a little bit different. But I can’t fully. It doesn’t matter. Can I get up now?”
“Sure,” I said. “Do you have some pants?”
He blushed slightly. I grabbed a bathrobe from the side table, throwing it at him, the tag still hanging off of it. It was pink.
Very pink, in fact. And very fluffy.
He slipped it on, looking suddenly more comfortable, less naked, and a hell of a lot more annoyed.
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