Chapter 1
Kathleen awoke with a series of warped memories playing in her mind, her breath struggling its way out of her lungs in ragged gasps. She was covered in sweat, eyes were brimmed with tears as she put her head in her hands and tried to shake off the sleep she escaped from. She glanced at her clock, the red lights glaring their way through the darkness, sinister somehow. The clock read 3:23 a.m. Ironic she mused sleepily. haunting hour. really now? Ughhhh. She continued to think about what her nightmare meant. She pondered till she saw dusk permeate its ways through her walls making them start appearing crimson instead of a grey-black. The nightmare continued to play in her mind, a never-ending loop of her own personal torture. It seemed so realistic, it terrified her. Truth was revealed in her dreams; she did not want it. She shuddered and rolled over to her left side and stared out the window while her curtains billowed slightly. Kathleen decided to get up. She was tired of laying there, and her ribs were starting to ache. She touched the cold hardwood floor with her bare feet, the soles of her feet were shocked into feeling by the sudden temperature difference. She padded lightly across the room to her closet door.
She opened the creaky old thing and peered inside. She felt as if she walked in any further, she'd end up in a different world. Her childlike instincts told her to run, that boogeymen and monsters existed in there. She reached out and pulled the metal string hanging just above her, and the light clicked on. The closet transformed once again into a cluttered space filled with dark colors and lumpy objects. She groaned and started scrambling methodically to find something she actually wanted to wear.
She decided on black cargo capris, knee-high black socks, a fitted black band tank [AFI of course] over a long sleeved shirt that swooped below her shoulders, and her steel toed combat boots. After her clothing decision, she yanked her towel off her computer chair and trudged her way to the bathroom. She flicked on the light with her toes when she walked into the obscure bathroom, and saw her reflection in the mirror. She looked like hell, her hair was a disarray, and she had the familiar black shadows under her eyes which made her look like she had a fight with an eyeliner. Her lips were cut up from biting down and holding back screams, and there was a cut on her left cheekbone from accidentally clawing herself when she awoke. Funny, she hardly ever noticed the damage, until she looks at her reflection. Ah. Shit. I look.. zombie. shower.. warm.. Color. Her mind formed the words incoherently, sleep was enveloping her into its clutches once more.
She took off her oversized pajamas in a daze. They were her brother's she remembered. They gave her a sense of security. He left many of his things behind when he disowned himself from their family and left the house. He went out the door in a flurry of anger at sixteen, her age, three years before and didn't ever return. That is what their mother thought anyway. Diane hadn't even bothered to look for him; she hadn't cared, didn't care about him the way she should've. He had left on the two year anniversary of their father's death. It had been a huge scene. One that ended with broken objects, some injuries - but more than anything, a further broken home. She didn't like to remember the event. Kathleen missed him, even though he'd abandoned her. There were a million reminders of her brother Gage, like the growth chart in the kitchen and the things he left behind - dumped unceremoniously in their garage; the carpet stain in the living room where he'd spilled the red-wine he had swapped from the liquor cabinet, conveniently covered by a small rug; the hole in the wall of the upstairs hallway from when he threw a baseball inside the house; the walls of the room that was once his still painted black…
Kathleen pulled open the glass sliding door and stepped into the already steaming shower that had been running while she was thinking of her brother. She hadn't talked to him in a month, and that worried her. Despite not being so close, they still cared enough to keep each other updated; and how could she live without his obnoxious stories of how he's wreaking havoc in other places across the dimensions? He'd always been a wild card, and she loved him for it. One day she wanted to be as strong, confident, and rebellious as him.
The hot streaming shot of water hit her squarely in the back. It relaxed her tense muscles. She felt herself slump slightly, feeling weaker but better. She grabbed her raspberry-vanilla scented shampoo, poured some in her hand and smelled it. It was her favorite scent, however synthetic it was. She lathered and rinsed and finished her shower feeling re-energized, and set off back to her sanctuary or "The Cave" as her mother called it. She turned on the stereo on her dresser and changed her CD to Rascal Flatts. She had a thing for country, even though she loved the screamo stuff. Most of the songs if you listened hard enough, taught you a new lesson. She dressed, then sat in front of her mirror to brush her hair. It didn't usually knot, so it was easy to work with, even at its length. She gathered it at the top of her head and tied it off. Then she grabbed her thick black ribbon and made an elegant bow with the velvety fabric. She was ready for school ahead of schedule, so she sauntered downstairs to the kitchen and made herself waffles. She ate them without hurry, rinsed her plate after. She still had two hours to kill, so she sat down in the living room to think.
She stared out the window watching the rain streak down her windowpane. The storm clouds made the sky a dark and chaotic grey, the streetlights created a red halo above the horizon. She loved the rain and the atmosphere it created. It was like her in an odd sort of way. It was dark, gloomy, it hid its core by splitting itself into a million different fragments but always returned to the same whole state at one time or another. That was the way she was. Kathleen always liked to keep her life a secret and keep herself isolated from the world. She had been hurt too many times for her to count and it was the only way she could keep her emotions guarded. Her mother was truly a pain, a complete stranger to Kathleen. They had not ever taken the time to actually bother with getting to know each other since her mother was always away at work. It seemed work was the only thing that mattered to her mother, Diane. If she was not setting up appointments and yelling into her phone, she was studying for a case. Kathleen started to resent Diane after her father's death, five years before. Diane had become cold and distant and always seemed to target her pain and anger at Kathleen because she looked the most like her father, Trystan.
Kathleen was the spitting image of her father. She was his feminine form, with slight, refined features. She had delicate looking pale skin and her father's stunning stormy green grey eyes fringed by long, full lashes. She had high cheekbones, full rose lips. She had always been told she looked like a porcelain doll. She was slender, picturesque. Her hair was a beautiful shade of amber brown that waved down to her waist like her mother's. It was the only trait resembling Diane. Her father's hair had been straight, corn silk blonde hair that framed his face was layered out. It had been shoulder length and soft. He had been rugged and manly but he had known how to be tender and sweet as well. She loved her father, he had been the closest person to her, the only one who ever bothered to protect and understand her. He had known her delicate appearance, was just that, an appearance. She had a backbone and grit that few others had.
She missed her father dearly that rainy morning. Her thoughts went out to him. She reminisced on her memories of them visiting the park and taking walks in the woods, talking about anything and laughing at small things. She missed his company. Her life after his death was very painful, with all the memories of his life flashing all around her. She had become depressed, suicidal after his horrid death. She fell into many self-destructive habits such as drinking, self-mutilation. She was getting worse everyday and was not going to stop. Her habits were the only things that kept the pain and the memories at bay. She felt like the walking dead. She was pale, her eyes were hollow with shadows remaining underneath them. Not enough sleep had set permanent rings around her eyes. She didn't know how to face the world and locked herself into a safer world inside her head where she could deny everything, pretend he wasn't gone, just away on a mission. Her world kept her sane when she was feeling nostalgic.
School was unbearable, pointless. She did not want to go, nothing seemed to relate to her, it didn't matter; it was all a load of unnecessary information she was forced to memorize. The only subjects she actually did like were art, choir, and English. She was an artist within her right in all three areas, but she was closed, secretive with her talents and works. She could not reveal her soul to anyone anymore. She glanced at the clock, which told her that her thinking time was to come to an end if she wanted to get to school on time.
Her exposed skin felt tingly as the brisk wind glided over her. There was fog on the streets. Not unusual for mid-winter weather. The bangs that covered and framed her face were getting frosty cold, her hair was still wet. She let out a breath that showed in the morning air. The streets and sidewalks all looked grey, and the porch lights of most houses were still on. She grudgingly continued to walk as she mentally kicked herself for not bringing her jacket, but in her defense, she hadn't thought it would be that cold. She watched the streetlights turn red, as she walked by them. Then she saw a dark shadow materialize ten feet ahead of her. She froze. She didn't know whether she was supposed to keep walking and ignore it, or turn back and run. She decided to grow a pair and keep going, after all, things didn't just pop out of nowhere - so it must be a figment of her imagination due to sleep deprivation. It must be a new trick of her mind. She paced forward, but the image wouldn't disappear, it just kept getting clearer.
The shadow was actually, a man. He was about half a foot taller than her 5'7", which made him around 6'3". She got skittish as she continued to approach him. Her every sense was on hyper-alert and her skin began crawling. No one had ever had this effect on her, and she'd faced some dangerous characters in her life, a result of running with the wrong crowd. The man was less than five feet away from her, and startlingly beautiful to her even without seeing his face. He continued to stand there until he noticed her presence.
He turned around slowly but stealthily. He was clad in a black jacket, a midnight blue shirt that accentuated his muscled body, and black cargo pants tucked into steel toed boots like hers. He couldn't be much older than her, nineteen she estimated, with strong, chiseled features. He was extremely pale, more ashen than her, that was strange. His jet black hair slid to the middle of his back in layered lines, which contrasted next to his skin eerily. Added to the inhuman array of features, were his eyes - black with a hint of luminescent violet flickering in the middle, glowing unnaturally. He looked like the kind of person who you would not ever think of crossing, the aura of a predator, a hunter - and he was hunting her. She gazed up from under her sensuous lashes. She fixed her eyes on him as stubbornly and fiercely as he glared at her. Her silvery eyes were flashing dangerously as she held her head up proudly, looking like a dark priestess with cold and merciless disposition. He sized her up and kept his fists clenched; she did the same and lowered her right hand slowly to the dagger in her boot. The metal glinted against the faint lights cast from the porches. There was no one around; the only thing between them was silence, and a few feet of distance.
Kathleen crouched down slightly, a defense move she learned to acquire. She felt her legs surge with the power that would defend her. This man would be in for a surprise if he tried to mess with her. Contrary to her frail appearance, she was all muscle and deadly; and she had a couple of tricks up her sleeve for him yet. Literally and metaphorically. Hidden at her wrists she had a more daggers and needles laced with her special poison. She also learned to attack her enemy using radiated energy that appeared in a state of neon violet plasma, lightning, or fire - with which, she obliterated her opponent. She felt her fingertips begin to sizzle with the electricity. Some of it charged into her dagger, making it lethal if it penetrated the heart. All her weapons and techniques were specialized and were signature only to her.
He assumed the same position as she did, and he pulled a katana from his back, the same one he used to fight with since the beginning of his training. It was a gift from his father Voltaire, one of the many swords that were in his arsenal, custom made for his powerful family. The sword flashed blue, the metal reflecting light quickly, like a warning signal to anyone near, it was emblazoned with the engraving of his clan's symbol, his rank, and his name Shaddix in demonic characters. He looked at Kathleen. 'She's better equipped than I thought she would be, I can tell this kitten is gonna cause me trouble.' he thought.
Kathleen looked at him quizzically for a couple of seconds without breaking her concentration or her stance. He picked up her expression, and wondered if she could read his mind. No one ever had been able to, so he shrugged off the idea, even though she continued to look at him with questions in her eyes. Kathleen furrowed her eyebrows and realized she could read his mind, which wasn't too odd since she picked up on many people's brainwaves, but his thoughts startled her since they were loud and clear to her as if he was part of her own mind, unlike most which sounded muddy and faint to her.
She shifted to the left to further the distance between them, and flipped her dagger in her hand. She was ready to demand some answers. "What do you want? If you don't mind I want to get to school, I don't have your time and have much more important things to do, dude."
He looked at her like she'd grown two heads, here she was and she'd blatantly spoken to him as if he was a mere annoyance in her way, she clearly did not know who he was. He didn't think that she'd have the audacity to do such a thing, she looked too delicate.
She stared him down defiantly and crossed her arms, dagger poised to strike, when her questions met silence. This was beginning to get irritating. "What? Do I have something on my face? Or do you not understand the words coming out of my mouth?"
He quirked an eyebrow, smirked, and caught on. "No, you're face is fine, a little ugly, but it looks alright to me."
She glared at him, "Yeah I know I've been told, but I presume you're not here to observe teenage beauty queens, so why don't you get out of my way before I kick your ass?" She'd always had a testy temper when things got in her way, and she was determined to get past the creep in black.
'Well clearly that did not go as planned,' he thought 'and I outright lied to her, beautiful creature, even if she does have a temper… but that doesn't matter. I'm here to do what I need to.' He stood even with her and declared cockily, "I'm here to kill you, sweetheart"
She looked at him appalled, and disgusted, but unafraid. "On what grounds? And you don't even know me, so what the fuck is your problem?"
She wasn't even fazed by him and honestly that scared him. He glared at her. "Because we have unsettled business, sugar. And today is your day to die. Simple as that."
She laughed bemused, "Really now, you're here to kill me and address me as a condiment? I'm sorry fuckface, but you got another thing comin' if you think you'll kill me just like that." she replied haughtily.
"My, My. Someone's got a tart little mouth on her," he said, "Do you kiss your mother with that sucker? I'd love to take a little bite of that and taste that spicy blood of yours and see hear what you say after that." He gave her a wink, and a mischievous grin.
She gave him a death glare, and thought 'if only looks could kill, the bitch would drop dead. I hate this arrogant bastard. Although he's infuriating…he's gorgeous. If circumstances were different, I'd let him bite me.' She took a step towards him and contrary to her thoughts said, "Oh yeah? I wouldn't let you, even if you broke every bone in my body. I'd have to cut off my lips if I even thought about kissing a disgusting creature like you. Now get the fuck outta my way, douche bag! I have places to go." She closed the distance in an instant and shoved him aside, since it wasn't something he was expecting he stumbled over and fell in some bushes.
She laughed at him and danced away merrily. He pushed himself up and growled. He sheathed his sword, his ego had just taken an asteroid impact 'oh I'm gonna get that girl, no one does that to me and gets away with it, and I'll even make her wish come true and break every bone in her body. I guess she'll have to cut off her lips after recovery…or perhaps not. I'm supposed to kill her' . He sprinted after he, his feet never making a sound while making contact with the ground. He closed the distance in a couple of seconds, but before he could reach her, he felt a zap of crippling energy course through his body and dropped to the ground in agony and surprise.
She chuckled as she continued to walk away from him, he heard her say to him, "Suckerr. Can't kill me if you cant move, and you have to deserve to kiss my lips, not that you'd want to, they're all cut up and rough. But nice try. Better luck next time, 'kitten.' "
He was completely in shock, literally and metaphorically. 'This insignificant girl who I'm supposed to obliterate defeated me so easily, as if it were child's play! How is this possible? I'm supposed to be the highest rank supernatural warrior, I am the Prince of the Shadow Lands! Goddamn! Shit! Fuck! I shouldn't have underestimated her.' He stood up, and shook his head in disbelief and frustration. He continued to go after her, he was stubborn now. When he was a couple of feet away from her, without turning around she asked him , "Coming back for more, sucker? I got a couple of questions: one, if I'm so insignificant to you, then why are you bothering to mess with me? And two, what do you want really? On an off-note, a proper introduction to your enemy would be nice, you know. And for the record, 'honey', it was child's play. If I wanted I could kill you and absorb your life-force, I could have - which with your heritage, would make me infinitely more powerful - but you're not worth my time."
She turned to face him, and continued to walk but backwards. He looked at her inquiringly. He hadn't met anyone like her and he was intrigued despite the apparent danger. Then, the alarm set in. 'she can read my fuckin' mind!' he thought. She gave him a funny look while chuckling and replied, "Why yes I can, you didn't notice before? Or are you that stupid? And why are you so surprised? You can't read mine or something?" He glared at her cuz she was making him feel really stupid. She continued " I guess not. And can't feel stupid If you already are." She flashed him an evil grin.
"Why do you insist on insulting me?" he asked.
"Well, you started it. you don't call a girl ugly unless you're prepared to face her wrath, you're lucky I'm not too annoyed at you, but that's only because you're like one of those ugly little pugs. So hideous they're almost cute." she replied and smirked. 'whoa! Where did all this sass and confidence come from?' she thought to herself, although he'd never tell the difference.
"Ha ha," he said, "You're hi-LA-ri-ous." he gave her a glare.
"Thank you," she said smugly, "I'll be here all week."
He stared at her. And confessed. "Alright, you aren't ugly, I was lying, but you probably know that by now, don't you?
"YEP," she said, "How nice of you to confess, but don't worry, I agree with your past statement - if it makes you feel better. Hey, what's your name anyway? I didn't quite catch it."
He looked at her confused, and replied " I don't know why it should matter since we're enemies, but I'm Shaddix. And you don't believe you're beautiful? Have you looked in the mirror? I almost feel bad in having to kill you, and I'm merciless."
"Nah, I don't like those contraptions much, and you haven't seen me in the morning. I look like a zombie." she smirked. "Besides, everyone hates me anyway, eventually it got to me and my self image." she smiled at him sadly, and said, "Oh. I'm Kathleen by the way, although I'm guessing you know me?"
"No, actually I don't know you, Kat. I was just sent to kill you, sorry. And you know it's morning, right?" he replied, and he took a look at her, the wind was blowing against her face, and it pushed her bangs back exposing the wounds on her face and even some faint scars. 'she's delicate,' he thought, 'but she sure as hell is a fighter to have so many injuries like that.'
"What for? I didn't do anything, you know. I am a fighter and sure as hell ain't delicate. I can honestly say that haven't taken anyone's life who didn't deserve it. Ever. So why are your men after me, and why were you sent if you're a prince? That doesn't make sense. You're royalty. Isn't it degrading to be sent on a suicide mission? I think your commanders are conspiring against you, dude. I'd watch your back if I were you." she said, it was her turn to be confused - why would anyone kill this prince?
He looked at her and said "Honestly, I don't know. They just sent me orders and shipped me off here through a portal, since you were the only one around I assumed it was you who they sent me to kill, and obviously it was. And I'm not THAT important to the royal family, I'm the bastard son of my father Voltaire, and most of the family hates me for taking the place of the heir, but I am the most powerful, next in line only to my father. My mother was a servant, a captured princess acquired through war with an enemy land, and obviously, he raped her, and she had me. The only son in the family, which is why they kept me. Our laws still function that way. But I'm still unimportant considering even my father would like to see me dead, the only reason I'm still alive is due to my grandfather keeping me under his watchful eye all my life." he smiled at her sadly, and then got scared. He thought out loud. "I cannot believe I just told you that! Oh god…"
She looked at him. "Well, I'm sorry… but you forget I can read your mind, even if you didn't tell me, if you thought it, I would know." She tapped at her temple to emphasize her gift and smiling she asked, "Do you still have to kill me Shaddix? I mean, I don't think you can, but I still want to know, just in case you catch me off guard." This was becoming an interesting day quickly.
"I don't know if I want to now," he said as he shook his head, " You're making this so much harder for me. And I don't even KNOW you!"
She quirked an eyebrow. "Why? I mean, I thought you didn't have any mercy for those you kill.. Cuz you're a 'tough guy'?"
" Hey," he said, " I'm not such an awful guy, once you get to know me, and normally I don't have any pity. But there's something about you, I think I know you - from somewhere, sometime in the past.. Which is a long time to try to remember, since I'm 223 years old in your world." he cracked a smile.
"Whoa!" she exclaimed, " You're an old fart! Holy cow! I'm sorry, but I am only sixteen, and I could've sworn you are only nineteen! You're shenanigans! Just unbelievable!" This was definitely a twist in the turn of events.
"I most certainly am not!" he retorted. "We age differently than you do, if you must know; if we even choose to age at all."
"Oh. I see, makes sense." she looked at him peculiarly, " Well, since we're not fighting right now, you wanna ditch school with me?"
He looked at her quizzically. "Why would you want to do that? I thought you had 'important places to go to and things to do?' " he mimicked her.
"Well for ONE, you were in my way. And TWO, you were trying to kill me! What else was I supposed to say? 'Oh, jolly delightful, dear sir, why don't I just let you slit my throat and execute me without reason - I'll even put it on the guillotine for you?' really now? Do you ever think before words fall out of your mouth?" she said sarcastically, " or do you just like hearin' your own voice for the hell of it?"
"Oh. Makes sense. And hey! that's not very nice of you to say, kitten." he said reprimanding.
"It's not my fault its true, that's why you're getting all defensive. And who ever said I was 'nice'?" she pointed out.
"Women." Shaddix said exasperated as he shook his head, then he said, "Yeah, sure, I'll hang with you, I have nothing else to do, well besides killing you, but that's clearly just not gonna happen. And knowing you, you'll just sizzle my ass to ashes."
"Maaybe. Pshh, I would make killing you more fun than that- for me anyway - 'cause sizzling you would just be too boring, and it would make an awful mess I'd have to clean up. Also, I cant let you get off THAT easy with the trouble you put me through." she looked at him mischievously with an evil, playful glint in her stormy eyes.
He was captivated, her eyes looked like liquid stones, grey diamonds with emerald specks, he felt as if he was being pulled in and had the urge to touch her face and trace the cut on her left cheekbone, it was apparent that it was fresh. A couple hours, tops, he wondered how this gorgeous girl lived and what she went through to receive these marks that marred her velvety flesh. "Oh, I see. Damn, I was hoping I wouldn't have to face your wrath again. You honestly scare me."
She blushed when she read his thoughts, accidentally of course because she didn't choose to be in there, it just kind of - happened. Then she looked away, and said "Don't worry, you wont have to, - as long as you don't try to kill me again, doofus."
" Alright, deal." he said, but now he was curious so he asked, "How did you get that cut on your cheekbone?"
"Nightmares." she stated simply.
"How?" he asked surprised.
"I kinda clawed my face when I woke up." she said as she stared straight ahead.
"Wow. What haunts you enough to not realize you've injured yourself? And why are your lips all cut up? If I hadn't seen the wounds I almost would have thought you were a vampire that hadn't cleaned off her mouth." He laughed casually and kept in pace with her.
"Ha. Ha. Wise guy. Well if you must know my dad died, and my mom ran off my brother years ago, and home is hell. My lips are so cut up because I have to bite them to choke back screams. Happy now? Is it what you wanted to hear?" She said crossly, as her eyes started to tear up. She hadn't ever told anyone about her life to anyone, not even her own gang. Yet, here he was, a complete stranger, and she was spilling her guts. It terrified her. She looked away, towards the houses, so she wouldn't have to meet his gaze again.
"Well no. Actually, I would've much rather have heard that you have a vicious kitty that attacks your face in the morning and that you're scared of gummy bears taking over the world." he told her seriously.
She couldn't help but laugh. He made her feel happy. That was even more terrifying than spilling her guts, he was dangerous for her. "Wow, you have an overactive imagination." she remarked as she threw her head back still chuckling and got closer to him as they continued to walk. They drew nearer to the school, then it was in plain sight, and soon they had walked right past it.
He looked at her and wondered why she would draw closer to him since he was the enemy, but he liked it, so he wouldn't complain. "I've been told that, but when you're bored out of your mind with princely duties you have to find ways to entertain yourself sometimes. That's when the mischievous, imaginative mind comes in handy." he gave her a crooked smile.
"Yeah I guess.." then she stopped walking and faced him, "Wait," she asked, "Do you ever like… take concubines or anything..? I mean… if you're a prince and all.. Then you must have girls willing to do your every bidding.. And stuff…right?"
"Well, yes…Sort of.. but why do you ask?" he said.
"Um.. I don't know.. Curious I guess.. Sorry." she mumbled.
"Its alright. That just threw me off, since it was an odd question to ask." he chuckled.
They walked past the school and stared into the distance. Kathleen looked at her feet and occasionally at the horizon, and back to her feet. Her boots were scuffed up from all the fighting she's done in the alleyways, and other random, disgusting places. It was hard to lead a double life, she was a hunter of the evil kind of supernatural beings that hunted humans, and your average high school outcast. There were so many dimensional creatures that came through, and many of them looked at humans as sustenance or as game for sport. She wanted it to end, it was wearing her down, even at her energetic sixteen. She slumped, feeling very tired all of a sudden. She stopped suddenly and leaned her head against Shaddix's shoulder. He looked at her, wondering, almost worried.
"What's wrong?" he asked her.
She mumbled, "Tired…"
"Of what?" he implored.
"Everything… having to fight all the time with everyone and stuff. I'm only sixteen, you know. And I have to take on the world by myself." she muttered.
"Only if you choose to, darlin'. You don't have to go at it yourself, if you ask for help. You, being human should know that." he said wisely.
"Well.. Yeah.. But that's where my dad and brother helped me, and they're not here anymore, in case you haven't noticed, so I have to go at it alone now. Unwillingly too. Mom wouldn't ever understand. She didn't know bout dad, and Seth and me, being what we are."
She paused and looked down, "Hey, look, the park is right over there. Wanna go to the swings?" she asked him childlike.
He looked at her, "Yes," he said, "but you have to continue your story. What are you exactly?"
She looked at him with the 'have you not figured it out?' look. "I'm an executioner from the Oblivion Guards, of course, second only to my brother, that is, if he's still alive. And I would've been third best if my father was still alive."
He looked at her blankly. "It all makes sense now - why they would come after you, I mean. You might have slain one of the highest regarded members of our world… that means you will have many sent here to kill you, not just me. What did you get yourself into, little girl?"
"I am not little." she glared at him and said dignified, "and its not my fault, it runs in the blood, even if I am half human. My father was the Highest Executioner and Commander before he was murdered, and I guess I'm a kid born into the wrong family.. Or the right one, depends how you look at it, I guess I can almost be considered part of the royal family, since I am one of their protectors, along with Gage, and some extended family. We're a very talented and cursed bloodline. Funny, humans think of us as angels and gods. But really, we are just from a different dimension."
They reached the swings and sat next to each other looking up at the cloudy grey sky, it looked almost like it would rain, and the breeze was starting to pick up, making the air around them seem colder, like the cold truth she had just stated.
Kathleen started the familiar rhythmic motions with her feet and she started swaying. Shaddix looked completely perplexed on how to work the metallic contraption he was sitting in. Kathleen looked at him funny and said, "Don't tell me you've never been on a swing before?"
He shook his head and replied, "Um… not quite.. How do you work this thing? Only the commoners played with these things, and I wasn't let out of the castle, so I couldn't go out and play with the other children." he looked down still baffled.
Kathleen gawked at him then, her features softened. She said "Well, you see, its easy. Just rock your feet back and forth gently and kick it into motion."
He started to move his feet, and the swing started moving-sideways. "Like this?" he asked innocently.
"No!" Kathleen laughed, " You're doing it sideways, and you're gonna crash into me, silly!"
He continued to rock the swing sideways, and crashed into Kathleen like she said he would. She jumped off and rolled onto the grass chuckling. He jumped after her and pinned her to the ground. She looked up in alarm, she gave him a stunned look. He smirked at her, and took her into his arms. Kathleen pushed him, and cowered away, out of his grasp. She got up and bolted to the nearest hiding place, behind a tree, breathing quickly and sat down against the trunk. Shaddix was left confused on the grass, he was only playing.
Kathleen put her head between her knees, she'd gotten scared. She didn't like anyone holding her, ever. Not since her dad had died, and even before that, he was the only one who had ever embraced her. Embraces were for those fortunate enough to make connections that could be safe, but that wasn't the case for her. Even Shaddix was her enemy, and remained that way since being with him put both of them in grave danger, considering what they'd do to him if he didn't kill her. She didn't want to get up, and she didn't want to run from him again. She felt bad, because she knew he didn't do it to kill her, just to be friendly… maybe even a little more than friendly with her. So, she got up and walked back to him. He looked at her apologetically.
"I.. I'm sorry." They both stammered, and exchanged amused glances.
"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have run off on you. I'm not used to being.. um.. hugged, it was an instinctual response, not anything against you, I swear.. Well maybe the fact that you're here to kill me, but other than that nothing." Kathleen shrugged and smiled and sat down with her chin on her knee.
"Oh. I think I get it… do you think we can try that again..? Without you running off on me?" he asked and gave her the 'are you kidding me?' look.
"Maybe… Promise not to pounce on me again? You're lucky I didn't shock your ass." she murmured and shuffled closer to him. He extended his arms out to her and offered her a comfortable place in his chest.
Shaddix lay down on the soft, moist grass and reached for Kathleen. She crawled to him tentatively and lay her head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and held her closer to his chest. She smiled and snuggled against him. He noticed she was shivering from the cold, so he pressed her body closer to his, and used his powers to heat his body up a couple of degrees more to keep her warm, a 'human' blanket. Then, they lay intertwined, their bodies melding together perfectly. They remained in the stillness, and soon he noticed that she had fallen asleep resting against him. She seemed peaceful, her dark lashes fanning out against her flushed cheekbones, her mouth smiling slightly; but even in her sleep she was guarded, instinctively setting a shield around herself to safeguard against attackers.
He noticed she had black shadows under her eyes from years of sleep deprivation and exhaustion. He also realized as he took in her scent that even though she hadn't fought anyone but him, she smelled faintly of blood, her own blood to be exact, and that it couldn't be only from the cut on her face. He shifted his arm that was around her body, and the sleeve on Kathleen's arm lowered slightly, revealing a series of jagged cuts extending down her arm, which were obviously not the results of a fight, but self imposed incisions. He shuddered and his expression became troubled, she'd been suffering a lot more than she had let on, he wouldn't have ever guessed with her vibrant and strong personality. He lowered his face and pressed his lips against her forehead, and held her to him protectively, even though he was breaking all the rules and it would normally be against his better judgment, he knew that he absolutely had to protect her, he was in too deep to just leave her. He was even tempted to mark her, to shield her from harm, and to make her his forever, or if she decided to stay mortal, when her life-force passed on. But, he wouldn't dare make her the proposition so early on, he barely met her - and she would think he was insane. Not to mention the perils of making the blood transfusion that sealed the bonding might kill them both. Opposite blood, one from the highest order of angels, and then there was his own - from the infamous darkest order of demons. At that moment he was glad she was asleep, so she wouldn't be able to read his unspeakable thoughts.
He began to relax, but as soon as he did he heard a distant rustle, and the sound of clawed footsteps, all of which only meant one thing - trouble. He was torn on whether or not he should disturb the sleeping girl in his arms, but he knew that if he didn't get them both out of there, he'd not only regret it, but they'd both be in inevitable danger. He shifted to his feet and carried her like a bundle in his arms, Kathleen's eyelids fluttered open, and she looked at him alarmed. "What.. What are you doing? Why am I in your arms and where are you taking me? Put me down!" she rushed out.
He looked down at her. "We are going away, we have seem to run into some trouble; you remember when I said many creatures would come after you? Well, my lovely friends are here now, which puts you and me in some danger. So we're gonna pull a disappearing act. Unless you don't want to go with me?"
She looked at him dazed but defiant. "What happens if I don't? You know, I can stand my own ground. Can you put me down?"
"I can, but I wont." he said and then explained, " You see, they would know that you actually are here, and would track you down till they killed you, and even if you did kill the creature, once he lays eyes on you and picks up your life-force, it is sent straight back to our dimension, making you instantly traceable wherever you might go, and you would be a dead girl. And me, being selfish, wouldn't want that, I'm having too much fun with you, and we're at an impasse. Plus, I haven't tasted that blood of yours yet. Speaking of blood, we have some things to discuss after this."
"Oh."
"Yes, we couldn't let a delectable creature such as you go to waste like this." he said half-joking. "So you want to disappear with me? Your window of opportunity is shortening, what do you say, kitten?"
She beamed at him. "Take me away, kind sir."
He concentrated and they were gone, untraceable. They disappeared in a dark cloud of smoke and black feathers. When Kathleen opened her eyes they were back in her room, in all its cluttered, destructive glory. She looked at him, frowned, and asked "I thought you were taking me away, not back to hell."
"You do want to get your stuff don't you?" he asked her.
"I hadn't thought about that, that's very considerate of you. Can you put me down now?" she replied, not liking being carried like an infant.
"Yes, but don't get too far from me." he answered seriously and set her down on her bed.
She shuffled to her feet and ran across her room to get the duffle bag beneath her window. She decided her mother wouldn't care if her other child ran out on her too, but she would leave her a letter as a definite goodbye. Leaving without any notice would be completely rude, and she still has some morals left in herself. Sixteen she thought, just like her brother three years past. She set her duffle bag on her bed and made her way to her already open closet. She took two pairs of shoes, three sweaters, five shirts, five pairs of pants and her under garments. That would do for wherever she was heading, since she didn't want to be over-packed. She looked to her bed and grabbed her teddy from under her blankets, she couldn't leave without it. It had been a gift, and a part of her as long as she could remember, she'd feel wrong without it. When she grabbed the stuffed animal Shaddix raised his eyebrows in disbelief and said "YOU sleep with a, TEDDY BEAR?"
She glared defensively and retorted "YES, I do. Have a problem with that?"
"Nope, not at all. You just don't seem the type." he answered backing off so he wouldn't get his head bitten off.
"Alright, then. Didn't think so." she answered smugly.
"Sheesh, WOMEN!" Shaddix said as he threw up his arms, they are so complexicated. Cant live with 'em, cant live without 'em. You cant keep them at bay for two seconds 'cause they bite your damn head off. Goddess Mother, help me."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Kathleen quarreled.
"Nothing. Nothing at all." Shaddix said with faux innocence.
"Uh huh. Sureee." Kathleen replied and continued her packing. Then she added, "Hey, make yourself useful and grab my weapons from under my bed, yeah?"
"God, what am I your slave?" Shaddix said with mock exasperation.
She pondered the idea with mock innocence with a teasing look in her eyes. "Maybe," she winked, "If you're into that sort of thing. If you are I have cuffs and whips, and other fun toys." she said sensually as she bent over to retrieve something that had fallen near Shaddix, the angle conveniently exposed enough of her breasts to turn him on.
Shaddix looked away biting his lower lip, and managed with effort not to pounce on her. Then through clenched teeth he said "Maybe later, sweetheart. For now just get that ass movin'. We need to leave soon."
"I could do that for you too," she smirked at him and looked at him from under her lashes as she traced her finger up his abdomen to his chest and bit his neck. "but in a completely different sense. I have to warn you I'm a good dancer, with very bad intentions." she winked at him as she danced away from him, her full hips swinging, tantalizing him.
"God woman!" he exclaimed struggling with self-control, " Are you trying to get me to tear off your clothes and take you right here!"
She sat on her bed and looked at him mischievously as she crossed her legs. Then she answered huskily, "Depends, only if I don't tear yours off first."
"Ok, I am walking away now, you are NOT good for my health, and you have to finish packing. Its not a wise idea to sleep with the enemy, I tell you. Although, I do not refuse the idea. I will be outside your door, call me when you're ready. We can play later, I promise. You can do whatever you'd like then." He managed to say with painstaking effort. His mind was set on doing the contrary. He sat outside the door and tried not to think of what she'd just done to him. She was evil, in a good way, and a lot for him to handle, that was certain.
Kathleen smirked and finished packing, she retrieved her cloak from her closet and strapped one of her major battle swords on her back, put the remainder of her weapons in her weapon carrier, and walked to her door bags in hand. She was ready to leave her life behind, the fragments that remained of it anyway.
"I'm ready to go, chief" she told him.
"Alright, now do you want me to carry you again or would you rather take my hand" he asked.
"Wait, before we go, can you tell me where you're taking me?" she asked, now considering what she was actually doing.
"We're going to a forgotten castle that I own, it's somewhere in Ireland, and it's somewhere they wouldn't think of looking. And before you ask - yes, we own structures in this world, only for inter-realm traveling conveniences. We used to rule the human realm, a lot of the kings in Europe were other-realmers but that was ages ago." he said nonchalantly.
"Wow. That sure changes a lot of things, but give me the history lesson later, ok? You'll make me fall asleep." she joked, "Oh, and I would rather take your hand, I don't like not touching the ground."
"Sure thing, kitten. Let's go. Give me your hand." he said as he looked over at her.
As soon as their hands met, they were gone. Transcending into the Irish castle that was a monument of the past, both horrific and beautiful.