A Kiss in the Moonlight

Chapter1

Sitting at the window, she realized her time was running out. The deadline was twelve o'clock midnight, and it was already going on ten. Still, she kept her eyes poised on the door across the alley down below.

A few minutes went by when a rat came skittering out from behind a wooden crate into the moonlit alleyway–probably looking for food–and began rummaging through the garbage that littered the ground beside an old rusted trash can not far from the exit door she was watching. She watched the little nuisance for what seemed like an eternity, giving out a bored sigh eventually.

Suddenly, from out of nowhere, a cat pounced onto the rodent, subduing it instantly. Just as it began to toy with its dinner, the sound of another feline's meow could be heard in the distance. The attacking cat looked up from its prize hearing the call, and then quickly picked the rat up in its mouth and scampered off with it back into the darkness from whence it came. She watched in amusement as the feline carried its dinner back into the shadows where it could eat without disruption. "Just like bounty hunting," she said quietly to herself with a bit of a grin tracing her lips.

The distraction was long enough that she nearly missed seeing the door open down below. Even a cat knows not to lose track of its prey, just like professional bounty hunters do not allow themselves to be distracted from their targets; this was especially true of bounty hunters of her caliber. Her name: Piastol–otherwise known as "The Angel of Death." Her profession: Bounty Hunting. It might not have been the life she had always dreamed of having, but she was good at killing, especially when it came to killing pirates; they were the lowest form of man in her opinion.

Piastol was hired by a rich wealthy Valuan man living in Upper City just a few weeks before. Normally she relied on the bounties posted in the sailors guilds, but this was a special case. Her employer was right when he came to her under the notion that she was the greatest of all the bounty hunters, and his offer was just too good to pass up. She would be rewarded with all the treasures the man possessed if one particular item that a notorious thief, "Jack of Hearts" had stolen from his daughter was returned.

She cared nothing about the man or his family. Her only concern was the treasure that was to be rewarded for the return of the heirloom as well as the thief's head. They preferred it best if she brought him in alive, though. The poor bastard probably wouldn't survive much longer after that she figured.

A rumbling in her stomach made her remember just why she needed the money too. She barely had any gold left even before she took the job. Now she was doing without.

She would have watched the feline bounty hunter longer had her target not been getting away. Nevertheless, this was her time to strike. Piastol burst through the window, scythe in hand. Doing a somersault in the air, she landed in front of her target, shattered glass falling all around her. Once the fragments of what was once a window above them had settled, she raised her head to make eye contact with Jack. Jack: her bounty; her prize; he was the solution to all her problems.

Now as for Jack, while not being a physically strong person, he more than made up for that weakness with his wits. However, he still knew when he was outclassed in a fight, and also knew when to run. This was a perfect example of when to run, but her eyes froze him in his place. Beauty and blades are a lethal combination, not that Jack didn't know this.

Before the thought of moving had even occurred to him, Piastol lunged at Jack with alarming ferocity, but being sly like Jack was, he dodged the swing of Piastol's scythe by instinct. She was not content with letting him get away from her so easily it would seem, because the heel of her boot slammed into his chest directly after, causing Jack to take a few staggering steps backward into the crates the rat had come out from earlier.

Jack looked up from his daze just in time to see Piastol's scythe careening downward from over her head. He rolled out of the way, desperately trying to avoid the wrath of his mystery attacker. While it was good that Jack still had a head on his shoulders, he had made a terrible mistake. Now he was backed into a corner with no way out. The thought of cowering, to beg for mercy, entered his mind, but he was too petrified with fear by her intimidating eyes.

They were dark, beautifully cold, glistening steel blue eyes that reflected the rare occurrence of the silver moon through a hole in the thick clouds up above them perfectly. These didn't seem to be the eyes of a killer; but, he had been wrong before. His heart might have raced if he didn't know her aim was to kill him.

After the initial shock of being attacked so randomly wore off, Jack said in a surprisingly calm fashion, "What? Are you too good to introduce yourself before you murder someone? Sheesh." Jack might not have been the most handsome man you've ever seen, but he knew how to get any girl's attention; he was a womanizer to say the least. In this case, however, it took a lot to maintain his fearless attitude, terrified as he was.

Piastol knew she had him cornered, and she knew that letting him speak was pointless. One thing about Piastol that was a weakness, though, was that she was arrogant. She wanted to hear this man–this pig–squeal! Just like the cat from before, she would toy with her prey; have her fun with it, before the kill. Smiling evilly, Piastol lowered her weapon of death to her side and said, "Know that these will be your last words, so choose them well, thief."

"She's as lethal as she is conceited. That sounded rehearsed," he thought to himself while celebrating his good luck. At least Jack had a chance now, and with that, he regained his composure. He would have to summon every ounce of his charm if he wanted to live through this.

In the most romantic voice he could muster, Jack said, "All I ask then is a last request, and you may take my head for whatever reason you desire."

Still skeptical of his intention, Piastol replied sternly, "Fine, but nothing ridiculous, and make it quick."

Once again on the inside Jack was celebrating, "Then my request is to kiss death on the lips."

Taken aback by this, Piastol nearly lost her focus. Not a muscle flinched in shock to his words, but Jack was sure she was. In fact, he knew it; her eyes gave her away. It was the perfect opportunity to sway this whole encounter to his favor. For some reason, Jack had a knack for getting himself out of tight situations like these. Some people considered his skills to be of another magic.

In an obviously sarcastic tone, Jack said, "Someone as skilled as you must have the compassion to grant a lowly thief like me one... final... request. Don't worry; you can trust me, because I would die to kiss someone as beautiful as you."

Piastol could feel him gaining more confidence with every word. She wasn't sure what to say back to this. This time her voice had lost a lot of its might. "N-no," she stuttered, "I just told you nothing ridiculous."

Hiding his grin, Jack shot back at her while raising an eyebrow, "Ridiculous? A kiss could not be farther from it." Adding a condescending tone to his voice, he followed up with, "What's the matter? Haven't you ever been kissed before?"

Piastol's face flushed in anger, she couldn't believe the nerve of this guy. No one had ever spoken to her like this in years. In all of Arcadia, there was not a soul that didn't at least get a shivering feeling down their spine after hearing her name. However, this "Jack of Hearts" seemed to shrug off the fear tactic that worked so well on everyone else.

"I've been kissed before..." she lied. "What an idiotic question. Did you really believe I would ever agree to something so repulsive?" With each sentence, she began losing more and more confidence, and the lower it got the higher Jack's rose. She became aware of his grin getting bigger with each attempt she made to deny the truism he had just given her.

Outraged by his insolence, she exclaimed, "The only kiss you'll be getting is the kiss of dea–"

Realizing now that he had her in the palm of his hand, Jack said cutting her off, "Oh really? I don't believe you. Your hands are shaking."

Indeed he was right. Piastol wasn't feeling like herself now. This man was challenging her on a level she had never experienced before. She didn't know what to make of it. In a moment of confusion, she let her guard down.

Taking full advantage of the moment, Jack grabbed Piastol in his arms and gave her the most romantic kiss he could possibly give her, pursing lips against defiant lips. He could feel every ounce of surprise pulsing through her body. This would be an experience she would never forget.

Now, Piastol didn't gain her strength from her physical shape, in fact, she was very slim. She had gained her reputation with her skills using the Scythe. It was no wonder she had become associated with the Angel of Death, but her frail body didn't stand a chance against his in terms of raw power.

Piastol began to struggle to break free of his hold, but his arms remained wrapped around her paralyzed frame. She wished desperately for her body to cooperate with her, but it was futile. Jack had pushed her beyond her limits of comprehension, causing her body to shutdown without warning. After a few seconds, it was all she could do to simply give in and accept it, so she relaxed in his hold and embraced the kiss. Piastol could feel the grip she had on her weapon beginning to slip from her grasp. If this were to be her first kiss, she figured, then she wanted it to be a good one. Momentarily, her blade slipped out of her fingers and fell to the ground, where the echo of the clank it made could be heard throughout the alley.

Once there was no more resistance, and a little time had passed by, Jack released his grip on her arms as well as her lips. He could tell that this young woman was dumbfounded to the point that he could just walk away without her lifting a finger in objection, but Jack wasn't ready to leave just yet. He wanted to hear his attacker admit to her lie.

It was only then that he realized just exactly what weapon lay on the ground beside her. For some reason, Jack felt that it should mean something, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He always hated it when he got feelings like these, because he knew there was always a reason for them.

Eventually, Piastol snapped out of her daze, shaking her head to get rid of the lingering feelings Jack had just forced upon her. Instead of what was expected, her expression changed from uncertainty to rage. She couldn't believe that she had just let some lowly thief rob her of her first kiss. Grabbing her scythe off the ground, Piastol raised her weapon above her head. The thief got his disgusting last request, now it was time to finish the job.

This time, her eyes weren't the cold steel blue eyes Jack had just been acquainted with. They were fearsome, confident, focused eyes. Jack couldn't believe how stupid he had just been. He realized now that he had just cheated himself out of his own life.

Piastol started to swing her blade, hesitated for a second, but went ahead and delivered the blow, but she had done something that she should never do; she closed her eyes. Her swing wasn't miscalculated, but it offered Jack the chance to dodge her. So, being one to never pass up an opportunity, he did.

That moment's hesitation was all Jack needed to duck the blade. Her scythe missed his head by no less than an inch, and before she could react, he shoved her into a pile of garbage near the door of the building he had just exited from only moments ago. This allowed Jack the precious amount of time he needed to escape. Piastol, in complete rage, got back up on her feet and darted after him. The chase was on.