The Lady… or…. The Panther?
Disclaimer: I own nothing associated with the show or comic Witchblade. They belong to much more talented, although incredibly foolish, individuals. Lianna however is mine, please don't use her without prior written consent.
So I know I said that after the Egypt paper I would update but my sounding board and I had a fight so I have no one to discuss this story with. Hence there has been a certain lack of inspiration. I'm rewatching my tapes of the show though so hopefully something will give soon.
Also, has anyone else noticed the emblem on Sara's white t-shirt during the episode in Season 2 where Ian asks the Black Dragons to kill her? I guess I was just blind the first fifty or so times around.
I am still desperate for a beta as I've noticed and corrected a few annoying mistakes in the first three chapters. Help and brainstorming would certainly be appreciated.
Chapter 4: Confrontations
The only sounds that night in Sara Pezzini's apartment were the glide of cloth as the Wielder shifted within a vision and the deep resonant breathing of the alert panther hidden in the shadows. The activity of the Witchblade had disturbed the feline's rest and she searched for the cause of an extra surge of energy that couldn't be explained by Sara's dreams. There was no movement to indicate a disturbance but amber eyes, accustomed to lack of light, were able to spot the deeper blackness of a body sitting watchfully on the fire escape.
The panther growled and slowly padded to a window on the other side of the apartment. It was an easy thing to slip out of the partially open bathroom window and climb silently to the roof. She settled on her front paws and watched the intruder from above. He showed no indication of leaving and when he reached carefully toward the window, lifting the sill on silent runners, the cat snarled and sprang into action.
Ian sat quietly outside Sara's bedroom, watching his lady thrash in the net of vision. The Witchblade heightened her agitation but refused to share any images with him. It seemed to Ian that there was a conspiracy to keep him ignorant. Sara let loose a particularly vicious cry and Ian clenched his fists tightly before reaching for the window. He'd created an opening of about an inch before an inhuman scream rent the silence. Ian noticeably jumped and looked around frantically for the source but saw only darkness.
"You are trespassing." A female voice rang clearly from the shadows.
Ian turned, instantly on guard. When the voice's owner stepped into the muted illumination of the moonlight Ian sucked in a harsh breath of surprise. Her picture had not given a true sense of the strength emanating from her slender form, nor of the regal anger shining from eyes whose golden-bronze flare could be seen despite the lack of light.
Her presence confirmed what Irons had told him, but her words confused him. Without meaning to Ian fell back on decades of training and attacked without thought, intent on protecting Lady Sara. As fast as he moved, his opponent countered him with moves designed to force him to follow her further from Sara's apartment. Ian grew frustrated at the game the woman seemed to be playing. Her ability to block his attacks made it clear she was a skilled fighter but she did not advance upon him.
The were far from their starting point when Ian noticed her glance to the horizon. Unintentionally he followed her gaze and noticed the beginning of false dawn. When he turned back the woman was gone. In the blink of an eye Ian had lost her. Mr. Irons would not be pleased. Ian briefly considered heading back to check on Sara, but just the his phone vibrated softly reminding him it was time to return to the estate.
With one last sweeping glance across the rooftop, Ian turned toward his home, completely ignorant of the substantial shadow weaving into the darkness behind him, intent on learning his destination.
She sped silently behind him, inwardly amazed at how fast he could move. Twice she almost lost him, only regaining his trail because of her keen sense of smell. As they twisted and turned through the maze of city streets she tried desperately to figure out where they were headed. When the buildings began to thin out into nicer houses with yards and fences she felt her hackles rise. A vague memory of this place stirred her unease.
When her prey stopped at a large iron gate and waited for a retinal scan to acknowledge him she nearly shifted in shock. The building before her stood silhouetted by the rising sun and brought to the surface of her mind such raging terror that she could barely control her physical reactions. Without stopping to thing, she turned and fled as fast as her limbs would take her. Back toward the relative safety of the Witchblade's protection.
AN Be sure to let me know what you think. Without a muse the only inspiration I'm getting is from reviews! (That wasn't really supposed to rhyme.) Crystal
