The tendrils of shadow curled out of her fingertips, seeping from her pores all over her in smoky waves. Feeling as prepared as she was going to get she stepped out of the treeline and into the clearing. As soon as she stepped out into the open, most of the noises died down, except for three of the outlanders lost in the throes of their own passion. The sun could have fallen from the sky and they would have still carried on screwing, she was certain of it. All other eyes were on her. An outlander close to Slade grabbed a lighted torch from a sconce near one of the tents and began stalking towards Slade who was looking at her… angrily. Well that’s the thanks you get, she thought. The smoky tendrils flowed out from the cuffs of her dirty shirt and from the bottom of the pants she wore, making it seem she was burning from the inside out despite the arctic grasp they held over her. She took a few steps forward, outwardly unafraid but inside she was a writhing mass of nerves and fear. The outlanders closest to her began charging towards her, their animalistic war cries breaking through the silence. Even the threesome had broken apart now, though they looked more irritated about the interruption to their sex life than threatened. She made it to the centre, just a few feet away from the spit and Slade who was practically spitting feathers at her. He was livid. She frowned at him, her own anger rising. Hell, she had half a mind to turn around and let the bastard burn. Ungrateful son of a bitch. Though, it was his apparent lack of gratitude that was fuelling the icy shadows within her… the more she thought about it, the stronger they became. It felt like a lifetime but in reality it was barely a second, the two outlanders rushing for her didn’t know what hit them. She cocked her head to the side and smoky tendrils flew from her, one on each side. As though they had conscious thoughts of their own, one coiled itself around the throat of an outlander and the other wrapped around the other man’s leg before both snapped hard and the sickening crunch of bones and completely different kind of cry broke the air. Her smoky tendrils returned to her, floating just outside of her frame as one man lay screaming, clutching his snapped appendage and the other lay still and unmoving; his head laying several feet away. She couldn’t look, wouldn’t look, but Slade’s slack jawed reaction to the dark power she wielded was enough to know she was doing some damage. After a few moments of silence, it was mayhem. They all rushed her at once. She had heard tales of great heroes whose foes would fight them one at a time. The hero would be able to fend them off by cutting them down one by one but real life wasn’t like that. They all came at her at once but her shadows were ready. Once again as though they were an entity separate from her and she was just the host, they flew out towards the threats, coiling and folding around the outlanders, snapping and dismembering… she felt nothing. No guilt, no remorse, just ice cold power. She finally took her eyes off of Slade, closing them in ecstasy as she dominated the outlanders, controlled them with fear and pain. She didn’t just have power, she was power. She embodied the universe… she owned it. It was electric, fire, ice, blood, pain, pleasure… it was everything and she felt drunk on it. She opened her eyes and turned to an outlander lying on the floor, his face contorted in agony and his arm laying several feet away. She knelt down, her shadows pooling around her, moving with her, loving her… she should never have feared them. They were her children and they needed to be sated. Only one thing would sate them… death, life, pain, pleasure… it was all the same, and they needed it. She reached out and brushed matted hair away from the outlanders face, he looked up at her in horror. Just a frightened animal prime for the slaughter. Internally, she whispered the command to her shadows and they immediately leapt to do her bidding… reaching, writhing until they wrapped themselves around the outlander’s throat. He gasped, his cries cut off, as they slowly choked the life from him before separating his head from his body and all the while she continued to stroke his hair. She saw him as nothing but an ailing pet, in need of release. She stood fluidly, her body taking on the properties of her shadows, soft yet unyielding, fluid yet harsh… she felt like she was floating, her bare feet barely brushing the floor as she moved swiftly round the camp claiming the lives of the beasts surrounding her. They screamed and recoiled from her in terror and she loved every moment of it. In that moment, she was a God. She would no longer be another’s would-be victim. She wouldn’t have to feel the loss of another, her shadows would never abandon her. She decided who lived and who died and right then… they were all going to die.
Chapter 8
Slade struggled against his bindings as he watched Quinn float around the camp. He knew she was powerful, could sense it on her but shit… she was insane. Her eyes had glossed over and gone was the lovely shade of stormy silver to be replaced by a glassy black, filling her whole eye. If he had been a religious man he would have thought her possessed by demons. Her gifts had full control over her and he had never seen anything like it. She appeared to relish the kill as she murdered one outlander after another. Her red hair was darkening at the roots and her skin was growing paler… if he didn’t stop her soon he doubted there would be anything left of her to stop. The thought gave him more urgency and he continued pulling against the ropes that bound him. After a few minutes he managed to get a little wiggle room, a couple minutes after that and he had managed to unhook the ropes around his wrist. He couldn’t quite grab hold of the wooden pole he was tied to and he hit the unlit pyre with a thud, his back and shoulders breaking his fall. The sound of his upper body crashing into the sticks and logs, some of them rolling away, drew the attention of the murderous red haired immortal and she turned slowly towards him. She started towards him, her feet an inch above the ground, but was again distracted by the crying of an outlander. Slade took the opportunity to lean up and untie his ankles. He crashed to the ground, rolling down the steepled firewood until he crouched behind the spit he had been tied to. What he saw next should have terrified him but… he just saw hope in female form. Quinn had reached down and brought her face close to the outlander, before suddenly gripping his cheeks in her hands, her movements like that of a snake, quick and unyielding. She stared into his eyes and the man stopped screaming, beads of sweat running down his dirt-streaked face and dripping from his lank, greasy hair. Quinn’s eyes went from glossy black to blinding white in an instant and the dark shadows glowed harshly, brightening the sunlit glade. Her lightened shadows reached out to the dying man like vines, wrapping around him, holding him and Slade felt a sudden pang of inexplicable jealousy. His jealousy and discomfort quickly turned to awe as her shadows seemed to reach inside the man before rescinding, taking something from him. Though that wasn’t quite what he was seeing. The shadows weren’t taking something from him they were taking him… from his body. Quinn withdrew from the man and he slumped to ground, silent and still, as her shadows released a blackened misty orb into the ether… a soul? Slade thought as he watched it float away. Was that even possible? His mind raced as he crouched beside the spit, watching her. But then how did he explain his own daughter’s ghostly appearance. Perhaps it was her soul that had been separated from her body, not just her consciousness. Hells, it was all a little too insane for him.
He stood and she turned, her white eyes returning to black as she did. He held his ground, despite the trickle of fear and anticipation than inched down his spine. She walked slowly, her shadowy tendrils dancing with every hypnotic sway of her hips. She stopped before him, her eyes hollow at first glance but teeming with depth and unknown chaos beneath the surface.
“Quinn?”
“What are you?” she asked. He might have shook his head again or provided a sarcastic comment but her voice had an odd and terrifying cadence to it. Of the multiplied variety. It sounded as though a legion of powerful red haired women resided within her, each with their own voice, all speaking through the same mouth. At least he assumed they were all red heads, each voice seemed to have the same attitude problem from where he was standing. Before he could answer, her blackened shadows reached out, seeking him but his own gifts prevented their exploration.
He was relieved. He knew the limits of his abilities and he wasn’t certain they would measure up against hers. Feeling more confident about his chances of surviving he took a tentative step forward. Quinn tilted her head slightly, seeming less and less, well, human. Though they had all developed abilities and no longer aged following the Great War and the massive amounts of radiation their ancestors were exposed to, they were still essentially human. Most of them. But at the moment, Quinn most certainly was not.
“Quinn?” he murmured again gently, keeping the waver out of his voice with great effort. He was man enough to admit when he was shitting himself. Quinn just stared at him with those enigmatic black eyes. “Hey… can you hear me in there?” he asked, his voice a little stronger now.
“I can hear you; I’m not a moron. I asked you a question, Immortal. What are you?”
“Just a man trying to save his daughter… and his friend.”
“You and I are not friends.” She uttered, somewhat seductively, before stepping forward, her bare feet whispering above the ground. “Though we could be…” she murmured, her voices close enough that he could feel them vibrate down his spine.
“What?”
“You have an unusual ability, a strength that I have not seen. We make a strong match. Our power combined and we could rule… we could own it all,” she whispered, her voice low and husky and he would be damned if he said it didn’t affect him. He shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably as the loose collar of his shirt suddenly felt much too tight and his mouth felt hot and dry.
“Quinn…” he finally replied when he was able to push a word out, “you- you’re not yourself. Please, I need to speak to the real you now.” He finished, treading carefully. He had a feeling that should she set her full abilities against him he wouldn’t stand a chance and as it was he enjoyed the sensation of breathing. Better not to anger the beast, so to speak.
“You want me… I can feel your attraction. Why do you fight it?” she asked, stepping closer. He felt an undeniable urge to take a step back in response but his feet were rooted to the floor. “I imagine with your gifts I would be able to feel you properly,” she continued to purr in that low, sexy voice. “It would be pleasurable for us both, I assure you.”
He frowned, still unable to move as she crept closer. His heart was racing faster and he thanked the powers that be, the radiation in the damn water, freaking everything, that he was immortal because if he hadn’t have been he was certain it would have beaten out of his chest and bitch slapped him.
“What it might feel like… to truly feel,” she murmured, though it seemed to be to herself as her delicate pale hand reached up to cup his cheek. He was frozen and for a brief moment he thought he would die as soon as she made contact. As it was he received a different type of shock. Her fingers barely brushed against his skin and his knees almost gave out but she dropped like a rock. Her gifts rescinded immediately, rushing back into her body with such a force that she was propelled to the ground. After his initial shock had subsided he leaned down and tentatively touched her arm. Realising that she was out cold, he took a moment to gather his thoughts. What the hell had just happened? Not just her… but him. Why had he reacted so strongly? Hell, he was still reacting, he thought peering down at the throbbing bulge below his naval. Shaking himself he debated with himself for a minute before leaning down to gather her in his arms, her slight form huddled against his chest as he carried her through the carnage of the outlander camp, stepping over dead bodies and flayed pieces of them. First, he would find his daughter and then… he would find a place to have a cold shower.
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“Squidge? Squidge? SHAY!” Slade had been searching for almost half an hour and as slight as Quinn was, his shoulders were killing him.
“Daddy?” she peered out from behind a tree, her ghostly face streaked with tears.
“Thank the Gods… where the hells were you?” he yelled. Any arousal he may have been feeling was quickly squashed beneath his panic when he had left the clearing and couldn’t find her anywhere.
“Is she okay?” Shay asked, her eyes riveted on the unconscious woman in his arms.
“Honestly, Squidge… I’m not sure. Now where the hell were you?” he asked, much calmer in light of her distress.
“I… she sent me away. She said I had to hide here and that I couldn’t come out until she came back… she… she was real mean about it,” Shay had started off seemingly hurt but by the time she finished talking she was just plain irritated.
“She was?” Slade peered down at Quinn, adjusting his grip a little as he pondered that information. Quinn hadn’t been cruel to Shay once since they had met but she had done what she needed to, to keep her safe… he could respect that. Maybe he hadn’t been lying before. Maybe she was a friend after all. One thing he knew, he was beginning to trust the small woman who had saved his life. Maybe she could save his daughters too. “She was just trying to protect you, Squidge.”
“I know that… I mean, I figured that out… but she was a real bitch.”
“Yeah but… she did save my ass.” He said with a shrug. No point in telling his daughter about her language. Half the time she was the parent in their relationship but beyond that, how the hells do you discipline a spirit?
“Let me rest for a minute and then we’ll carry on moving, okay?” he murmured, gently laying Quinn on the ground, his hands lingering a little longer on her shoulders than was strictly necessary. When he stood up he found Shay staring at him, wiggling her eyebrows with a cheeky grin on her face. “What?” he muttered defensively.
“Nothing… so what happened back there? You seem… well,” she chuckled, “you two seem to be getting on better,” she said with a nod.
“Squidge… she’s unconscious.” He said sarcastically with an eye roll for good measure.
“So? What’s your point?” she said with a smile.
They bickered for well over an hour as he sat down and gathered his strength. Shay dropping not-so-subtle hints and he rolling his eyes and denying it. When he was ready he grabbed a spare shirt from his backpack. It had been in the same place he’d left it when they were attacked, though the meat was gone. Feeling better now that he wasn’t exposed, he stood and leaned over Quinn, eliciting a wolf whistle from his daughter, which he ignored. Shaking her gently he attempted to wake her but she wasn’t having any of it. She was out for the count and he had no choice but to pick her up once more and carry her through the forest. Not that he minded too much… though he wasn’t about to admit it. Her form was hard in places and soft in others. Strength and delicacy in one attitudinal package. Odd… he had thought her attractive of course. He had eyes, after all. In particular the image of her standing naked before him, her fiery hair flared out behind her and a pissed off look on her face seemed to be burned into his mind. What was odd though was the fact that he hadn’t thought of her as anything other than aesthetically pleasing until she had spoken to him in the way that she did in the outlander camp. Maybe she was doing this to him, he considered for a moment before dismissing it. It wasn’t like he was a virgin, clearly he had a child, but more than that he had had his fair share of women over the years. The issue here was that he needed this one. She was the key to saving his daughter and the burgeoning attraction he felt was a threat to that. Deciding he would ignore it for Shay’s sake and consequently feeling much better about it, he walked through the forest stopping every hour or so to rest. After a very gruelling, much slower walk than initially intended he, Shay and the still unconscious Quinn, made it to the edge of the forest and less than a mile from Periton. Pausing on the periphery of the forest edge, Slade sent Shay ahead to scout through the town. Periton was different to a lot of towns and villages. Being so close to Union City meant it had its perks, working electricity and running water but it also had higher security. Those who had something to offer the Union but weren’t ‘special’ enough to reside within the capital city itself were normally relegated to the towns o
utside the city walls. Most people thought it a great accomplishment for a common immortal with no standing or grandeur to be afforded living quarters in towns such as Periton. Personally, he just saw it as a slightly gilded cage. Sacrificing freedom for better living conditions and a little comfort… because they had. The people who lived in this town and others like it were owned, body, soul and gifts by Jackson and his men and worse, they were meant to be thankful for it. It made him all kinds of uncomfortable.
Dancing with Shadows Page 7