2: Unfinished
"One's past is what one is..." - Oscar Wilde
In the dark, all she could feel was pain.
The Kalina Ann, strapped across her shoulder, felt heavier than usual. The air outside was clean, the fresh smell of dew only dawn could bring. The skies were a deep marine blue, spanning far beyond her eyes would allow her to see. Demons are pure evil, plain and simple. She had been convinced, once, that this was the law. But the man currently lying between her sheets had broken that rule. Back at Temen-ni-gru, he was a new-found travelling partner with a family feud like her. Then he became friend whose contact she kept by exploiting his legendary demon-hunting prowess for her own monetary gain. As she grew older, the truth became more difficult to deny. She started doing things she could never imagine, hiding her emotions under a cloak of mercenary materialism and practicality.
She turned back, staring at the ivory-haired man. His face was hidden by a muscular bicep, and a light snore was audible in the silent room. Any woman would slip back on to the bed now, more than willingly. And undoubtedly he would welcome them. Surely he couldn't say no to the blond, the tall and exquisitely beautiful demon who resembled his mother? A demon, yes, and a woman so perfect. She was a worthy opponent in every sense. Last night had further complicated the triangle, if that was even possible.
But Lady couldn't move on with life, love, or anything else without settling the past. Her parents were both dead, the answers seemed to stop – did she really know who Kalina Ann was? Or who Arkham was before he was consumed by demonic greed? They must have loved each other once. That was what she kept telling herself, believing that her mother was an innocent victim of that tainted marriage.
Lady's fingers tightened over the knife in her hand. It felt so cold, just like the eyes of the hooded man from whom she'd bought it from. A part of her wanted to store the Devil Arm away, go back to bed and wake up to a heated argument with Dante. In the darkness he stirred, and Lady treaded silently over. Crouching down close to him, she surveyed his face. His features were so soft now that his piercing eyes were closed. Strangely, the longer she gazed at him, the more her heart felt sure. He was never going to settle; freedom was too precious a prize to lose. It would be naïve to think that they had any future together. When he woke up he would get worried and angry at her, but he would move on. He always did. She'd be happy if he managed a couple of tears. It was pure selfishness, but she had to retrieve the notebook. Without it, the missing pieces of her past would stay lost until the day she died.
I have to know. About her. Them. The book was a diary, and she was sure the information would give her life new meaning.
Lady leant towards him, hoping her breath on his face wouldn't wake him up. But any closer was risking it. She stopped and pursed her lips.
Stand and go now, Mary. You need to do this.
Heading back to the window, she ran the tip of the blade along her collarbone, lightly nicking the skin. Lady's reflection showed how the thin line of crimson on her neck started to grow exponentially. The wound deepened now, eating her from the outside. Her legs gave way, and the world disappeared.
Falling, feeling her heart palpitating in her throat… When she landed on her back, the impact took the wind out of her.
"Damn!"
The skies overhead were dark crimson, empty and acrid. Straining her abdominals, Lady sat up, glancing at her collarbone. The wound was bleeding steadily, but now it was just a minor cut. She placed her hand on the ground to steady herself, but ended up missing and stumbling down. Rolling over to break her fall, Lady handed on her feet and surveyed the floor. The demon, a bear-sized thing that resembled a komodo dragon, was writhing on the dust.
"I guess I have to say thanks," Lady said, hitching up the Kalina Ann.
Miles away, the alien presence of an intruder caught the attention of a white-haired half-demon, who motioned to the hooded minion in the shadows:
"Go."
