Riddick heard the whimpers from below his position crouched on the roof. As a professional courtesy to Ian, he had been keeping a tolerant eye on his mark. Miguel had made no effort to meet Ian man-to-man; instead, he had sent half his debt in, along with a note that was supposed to be promise for the rest. Ian decided, in a fit of amusement, to give Miguel a last chance, with deference to Riddick's preference of time. So Riddick gave him a few days, having been in a generous mood. Later he decided it had been for the anticipation of cat-and-mouse, and thought it would be a bad idea to make a decision like that again.
He slipped down into the alley mouth, seeing Miguel against the wall with a child to his chest, a hand against the kid's mouth. Riddick noticed it was one of the kids Miguel and the other guy had followed all week, the kids practically attached at the hip to that black-haired woman. His blood rushed in a fury, taking adrenaline through his system. Apparently Miguel was a slow learner. He strode forward, waiting for Miguel to notice. The kid saw him first, fixing him with a wide-eyed gaze that flashed gold in the light from the sidewalk. Miguel looked up then and squeaked unmanfully, facing Riddick as he began to back away.
"I pay him, man!"
"You paid half, shithead," Riddick replied. "And this ain't about Ian. This is another lesson. You're too slow on the uptake for me." Miguel backed into the wall and pressed back against it so hard it was as if he was trying to melt through it. When it did not work, he started looking for other escapes as the big man approached. When Riddick was almost on him, he flung Nico into Riddick and ducked out, making like hell for the sidewalk. Riddick caught the kid, looked down into large, pale-brown eyes and growled to himself at Miguel's debauchery. He set the kid down,turned and reached low to trip the fleeing man. When he went down, Riddick was on him. It was no contest – Riddick had him and planned on coming as close as possible to killing him.
Nico stood frozen where Riddick had gently set him down, watching this violence with unseeing eyes, shocked to the core at Miguel's violation and his sudden rescuer's vehemence. Somewhere inside him, something roared for him to throw Riddick aside and take his own bloody vengeance, but he was so small – how could he ever think he would be able to hurt Miguel, much less do something to the giant man that saved him?
A sudden call in a familiar voice broke his reverie. He called a reply plaintively, in a child's fright: "¡Sangre¡Está, en el callejón!"Here, in the alley! She appeared like a revenging angel, her blazing eyes searching for him and lighting on him with a mixture of fury, fear and relief. He cried out sharply and rushed past the two men scrabbling on the ground, into her arms and allowing himself to finally tremble.
"Nicolao, m'ijo, que—"
"¡Miguel!" he blurted, with no sense or reference forthcoming beyond that. Words became mud on his tongue, then concrete. He could not breathe. Sangre set him down and aside, where Melena's fine-boned hands took hold of his shoulders. He got dizzy and sagged against his sister, confused by the sudden speed of events. Their other hanger-on, standing behind Melena and Nico, looked on wide-eyed. He moved forward after a moment, as if to interrupt, until Melena reached out and snatched his blazer. He looked back at her and the coolness in her eyes shook him.
"No, Varón. Leave it. You will only be hurt," she said quietly and he listened, looking back in time to see the big man fly into the darkness of the alley, Sangre following him in. Miguel was left on the ground, unmoving. Nico shook against Melena, his lips moving without sound.
Riddick stood, shook himself and stared. The woman was coming down the alley. His first thought had been that Miguel had managed some kind of leverage to throw him off. But when he saw Miguel was not moving, the only answer left was the woman... Not a logical answer, by any means, but here she came. She was not hard to see; in fact, she blazed in his shine. He had never seen anyone look like that. Some animals, maybe. Never a person. Faint lines around her moved split-seconds before her body; he figured that out only after taking several blows. When he avoided her next attack, she was surprised, thought it barely showed on her face. He caught her fist and slung her into a wall. Oddly, it seemed to please her, by the grin that broke across her face. Despite its overt promise of violence, there was genuine pleasure in the expression as she pushed off the wall, got a hold of his head and took his legs out from under him.
God, she was fast. And too damn strong. It was inhuman, the way she moved. He had heard rumors of someone like this, a long time ago, long before the Hunter-Gratzner and Chillingsworth. When he was still in Company, cleaning out mining colonies. The troops told stories of superhuman soldiers, manufactured for powerhousing. Manufactured for killing. Maybe the stories had been true. Her voice brought him back to the ass-kicking present.
"You should not have done this," she said quietly, as if she were having a regular conversation. "This thing. This attack." It struck him suddenly that she thought he was the root of the problem, not Miguel, and he laughed aloud. She gave him a quizzical look, cocking her head like a cat. "Do you think it's funny? Attacking the boy like you did? Putting him in that creature's debt as you have?" Her Common words were stiff and formal to his ears, but very quickly she gave him something else to worry about when she grabbed him by the throat and squeezed. He closed his hand around her wrist and tugged, just to try her out, but she was solid. He tightened his grip on her bones and they began a silent tug-of-war of domination. The look in her eyes was pitying... her eyes. They had changed. He looked around her face, looking for a sign of weakness, and was shocked to see elongated canines in her mouth.
The woman had fangs. Honest-to-God fangs.
What the hell kinda B-movie shit was this, anyway?
"¡Sangre, no le matas por favor!" cried the boy from the end of the alley. Sangre, don't kill him, please! "He saved me! It was Miguel–" He hushed suddenly, whether out of fear or else uncertain, only to start up again. "–era Miguel que me lastimó!" It was Miguel that hurt me! Sangría looked at Riddick a moment longer before easing her grip on his throat.
"I see," she said in that same hushed voice. "My apologies; I misunderstood. The children, you see, are... well, that is unimportant. So long as I do not have to kill you over them, yes?" She smiled brightly, looking disturbingly young, and revealing those fangs without shame. "I thank you for doing what you did."
Riddick was caught a little off-guard by the sudden change in demeanor. First she wanted to kill him, now she wanted to make nice? He still wanted to throw her a beatin', but thought attacking on the surprise angle would be a bad idea. Sometimes you just had to know when to back down so you could fight again later. "He owes a debt," he rumbled, jerking his head at Miguel. Her eyes narrowed to slits as she twisted just enough to look at the downed man. "I'm here to make sure he pays it."
"I see." She nodded, mostly as if confirming something to herself. "I will see it is paid." She turned back to him, arms folded beneath her breasts and studied him. "I never thought to meet you," she murmured abruptly. "They said you died." Her eyes locked onto his, piercing.
"Who are you?"
"I am Sangre de la Cruz."
"Wraith," he said softly. She ducked her head.
"You have heard of me."
"Once upon a time. You dropped off the face of the earth. Never got caught."
"When you are where I am, Riddick... you simply get into different traps." She took a few steps back, bowing to him at the waist. "I am sorry for Miguel's lateness. I will see that all is settled very soon. My thanks." He made no response as she picked Miguel up by the collar. "And you... you do not exist, no?" The last was said softly, with just a hint of threat. It irked him, to have to require her saving grace.
"No," he replied, and slipped back into the darkness from whence he had come.
