The Fight
I sigh as I propel myself around the metal pole, driving my six inch spike heeled boots into the grotesque creature's face. It howls piercingly. I land precariously and thrust my hand up to block what might have been the death blow. I take two strides forward and my tight leather skirt hitches up. "Regretting the daring fashion choice?" John jokes as he watches. Yanking it down I spin in a low arc, grabbing the creature's hairy foot. It falls into a graceless heap, groaning. "Shut up!" I bark to John as I pick up my dagger, "This was meant to be an interrogation." "It is…of sorts!" he chuckles, "Think of it this way. You're sending a message to the demon realm. Beware! It's Lucinda, the deadly Shadowhunter." The silvery moon gleams off my glinting blade as I face the repulsive beast. "You could help" I suggest as the creature runs, then blurs-it's shape merging into a black vortex. It ends up behind me, claws bared. "Nah" he smiles as I turn, stabbing the thing unmercifully. I drive my egola blade to the hilt, into its heart and I twist. Black blood oozes down the blade and coats my hands. The demon writhes uncontrollably before disintegrating and returning beaten, to whatever hellhole it crawled out of. I take a deep breath and slowly turn to face John who is leaning casually against a door, not a care in the world. He starts to laugh as he takes in my post-fight look, eyes wild, hair tousled. Without warning I hurl my dagger towards him. It embeds itself, quivering, in the oak door behind him, right on target. His mouth falls open. I grin. "You were no help at all. It's your fault he shifted into his true form." I rescue my blade and start to walk towards Headquarters, my heels clacking off the pavement, the only sound in the deserted street. "My fault?" he asks innocently, "All I did was talk to him!"
I laugh quietly to myself as I think over the evening. We were after one demon in particular, known to frequent 'Devastation', a club infamous because of its seedy image. This demon, Danquiras, used a human glamour when in the club. Tall, green eyed, brown haired, so called god known to attract plenty of attention. If only people saw his true form! My job was to lure him away from the club-limiting the number of human witnesses or causalities depending on how messy things got- and send him on his merry way. Hence the getup- tight leather skirt, black spike heeled boots, a very tight black Henley with lace detailing and a cropped leather jacket. Perfect for man-attracting, not so great for demon hunting. Upon entering the club I searched the dancing crowd, locating my target beside the cocktail bar. The rest was meant to be plain sailing. Using my natural feminine charm I steered him to this deserted street. All was well, or so I thought. John began to interrogate him and his usual hot-tempered side got the better of him. This trait, both loved and hated by me, quite literally brought sparks to our three year romance. More often than not we clashed, unable to meet in the middle.
I turn smiling at the face I've known since I was ten years, piercing ice blue eyes full of mischief. "And insult him and be your usual charming self" I continue. John smirks, pulling me close for a kiss." I was giving you the opportunity to practise your fighting technique. You're getting rusty." I laugh before continuing on my rant, "If he escaped our cover would have been blown. Aaron would have been furious and we would have been stuck on paperwork for a month." "But he didn't…you saw to that" he catches my hand as we saunter towards the Cathedral de Santa Lucia. The cool night air floats aimlessly around bringing with it mouth-watering scents from the nearby bakery, masking the inner-city stench. We arrive and tilt our heads back, viewing the magnificent structure- Romanesque windows, a red mahogany door and a spiralling tower. I start towards the door and glance back at John. It's clear from his face, eyes lit up with boyish excitement, that he wants to climb. I sigh, let the heavy door swing shut and nod my acceptance. He beams and swings me around in a bone-crunching hug. "Easy there cowboy!" I chuckle. I lead the way towards the front window, the beginning of the climb. John glances at my legs and scoffs "Brilliant fashion choice. While I approve wholeheartedly, babe I don't see you being able to climb in that restricting skirt." "Never underestimate a woman or a Shadowhunter. I can move mountains if I put my mind to it" I remark. He looks at me confused. "Not literally!" I clarify, removing my skirt. John gapes at my legs, darkened by black patterned leggings. "Move it!" I giggle sternly and push him towards the rough grey window-sill. "Yes Ma'am!" he says, bowing his head. We begin to climb- easily slipping into the glamour guarding the Headquarters- safe with the knowledge that surrounding humans can't see us.