Umbra
Duncan found it strange that the lights and merriment of the plaza before the tower could so easily become only a memory among the twisting narrow streets off the main thoroughfares. The upper stories of old buildings overhung above him… and here only the occasional light glimmered through a window.
And still he followed her.
Small animals skittered past him in the darkness… he did not stop to consider what they were or might have been. All of his senses were focused on her… the shadow in the shadows… an immortal.
He took the time to loosen his katana from his coat, but did not immediately draw it forth. He didn't want to scare her off or frighten any passers-by.
On and on she led him… further and further from the light… until they emerged in one of those old squares so common to the oldest cities of Europe. He could hear water flowing in the fountain… one that peasants had used for their needs in centuries past. Beneath his feet, the pavement had given way to cobbled stones. No light shown through the windows… even through the cracks in the wooden shutters that surely existed there. Above… even the thin crescent of the moon and the panoply of stars were covered by clouds.
For a moment he stood near the fountain and breathed the night air… sensing her lightly near him… waiting for him. Finally Duncan turned to see her barely a shape within shadows. He stepped closer.
"Come to me," she said. "Love me."
He faltered. This was no dream or nightmare… this was real and if he were not careful… he'd die. "I'm Duncan MacLeod," he replied.
Her dark cloak began falling away and he saw white skin seeming to gleam and beckon him closer. She reached out to him. "Come! Take me! Love me!" her voice pleaded.
Duncan swallowed and stepped forward, carefully holding on to his sword hilt beneath his coat. The closer he came… the more aroused he became… as if he no longer had a choice. He took a deep breath of her scent… musk and cinnamon… a myriad of spices and… something else beneath the pleasant smell that made him want her despite the danger. He licked his lips. "Who are you?"
"I am yours," she whispered. He was close enough now to see the dark area between her legs, the small patches of shadow on her breasts, the exaggerated features of her face… as though hidden behind too much make-up… too heavily applied. And still he stepped closer.
His heart was pounding in his chest. His breath came in small gasps.
She backed against a wall and lolled her head. One hand reached for him… one fondled a breast and lifted it as if to offer it him. Duncan stretched out his hand… his fingers laced with hers. She pulled him closer and lay his hand on her breast. It was soft as satin and cold in the night air. Again he could smell her and again his defenses against her seemed to crumble.
Closer he stepped and bent his lips to that breast… kissing it lightly. He raised his face to hers… close enough now that he could see her features despite the makeup. "Who are you?" he asked again.
"Does it matter monsieur? Love me and you will know."
Duncan felt her fingers pull his belt. He let out a ragged sigh as he let go of his hilt and reached upward for her neck, suddenly turning her in his embrace until she was clasped in his arms… her back to him. He shoved her against the wall and leaned on her.
She let out a strangled cry and struggled against him. He felt about through her garments until he pulled out the small Chinese butterfly sword she had hidden there. Holding it at her neck… he turned her back to face him.
"Who are you?"
"Kill me and learn," she said as she lifted her chin and leaned into the blade. He could see a dark line ooze slowly into existence.
"It doesn't have to be this way!"
He felt her hands tug once more at his belt. Even now… she wanted to complete the act. Even now… he wanted it as well.
He stepped back and turned away… hoping to clear his head. As he did so, he felt his katana slide from its sheath. Looking up… he saw she had it and was raising it for a deadly blow. He leaped further back to avoid the slash.
He pivoted so that he was behind her as she followed through into the move. She turned almost immediately… her short butterfly sword was only good for close fighting. Duncan ducked as she brought his katana up and slashed her midsection as he passed. Dancing back out of the way he bobbled on the balls of his feet… ready to move.
She held her hand against her stomach and then up before her eyes to stare at the blood. Then she firmly gripped the katana with both hands, pivoted slightly to slash down on him. He used the butterfly to deflect the blow… which still managed to slice into his arm. He needed the other butterfly for an adequate defense… but he'd only felt the one hidden in her robes.
With a cry… she stepped forward and slashed once more at him. Again he deflected the blow… but this time he managed to turn and kick out at her. His foot connected with her injured mid-section. She was propelled backward against the wall.
He rubbed the cut on his arm, knowing it was healing… but it still hurt. Pain is transitory! Work through it!
She snarled as she leapt forward again. This time she used a single-handed blow to his unguarded side. Again he turned and backed away… switching the butterfly back and forth between his hands as he defended against the longer blade.
His booted feet slipped again and again on the cobbles as he backed away, turned, feinted, lunged, and parried the katana. He knew his sword, and he knew how to defend against it with a myriad of weapons. He'd planned for just such a moment. All he needed now was an opening… an advantage. He tried to dissect her style with the katana… for her an unfamiliar weapon… and too long for her to adequately wield.
Again and again he backed away… seeking that opening. When he saw it… in the awkwardness of her turn and slash… he leaped forward with a spinning move to plunge the butterfly deeply into her chest and hold her tightly. He felt the katana finish its downward slash weakly… and slice into his shoulder. Still he held her in this macabre dance of death.
They both collapsed onto the stones… heaving. This close… he still found he wanted her… Duncan shook his head. "Who are you?" he asked again, holding her chin in his free hand. But her eyes were already glazing over in death… and he feared that he would soon follow.
He pushed the katana from his shoulder and removed it from her hands. The damage would take some time to heal… even if he didn't die from blood-loss. He sat there beside her… holding his shoulder and enduring the pain as he waited. The butterfly sword remained in her chest. He prayed that she'd chosen this spot well… that no one would wander in. He half-crawled, half-dragged her body from the center of the square back to the wall where he let it lie. He leaned against one building and waited… hoping that he would remain awake and aware while he healed. The pain was nearly more than he could bear. At last … he sense that it was healed.
He reached over and pulled the shorter sword from her chest. He would not take her head while she was unconscious. Securing both weapons, he felt for any other that she might have and found a knife. He secured that as well.
Finally she gasped… and he could not help but think that her gasp and movement was like a woman in the throes of passion. For her… death and passion were one.
Awareness was reflected in her eyes as she turned her head and stared at him.
"I'm Duncan MacLeod. Who are you?"
"Portia Berrini."
He lifted her robe to cover her. Again, he could smell a heavy musk and felt lingering desire. He sniffed his fingers where he'd held the robe. It was there.
"Pheromones?" Duncan asked. "Something to give you an edge?"
Portia laughed bitterly. "I needed no edge. Men are such fools. Even the strongest of them becomes putty in my hands. Even you… Duncan MacLeod." She rolled toward him… the robe fell open again and one of her hands touched his… guided it between her legs. She whispered in his ear. "Love me now. Kill me when the moment comes. There is nothing like it."
Her skin felt cold beneath his touch… and it was that which helped him to focus and withdraw his hand. "I don't think so. You won't stop… will you?"
"Should I? It's what we are. It's what we do."
"No," Duncan said sadly. "It's what we've become… if we let it." He could rise and walk away. He knew that now. But she'd just continue. He couldn't allow it. The Watchers and his clan… the immortals… had to be protected… even if it meant killing her.
He rose to his feet and pulled the katana out once more. "It doesn't have to be this way," he repeated.
She rose to her knees and bent forward. "But it does."
He raised the blade and paused. But he could see no other way. Perhaps Darius could have seen one… perhaps he had and perhaps that was why Duncan could still not find the answers that he sought. He struck and watched her head roll across the courtyard. Then the quickening hit him.
I am Portia… found in a ditch… mistreated and used by men again and again. Killed when I did not please. Know that I would have my revenge.
The first of the quickening licked into him like hot tongues of fire. Duncan screamed and thrust one hand above his head. The lightning lanced into his fingers and straight through him to the ground. Behind him the old pipes of the fountain burst and the water was forced upward in a great geyser that rained about him in the night.
Men shall suffer an eternity of death! Feel their passion as they died!
The excess flashed above him as if fireworks were going off. He could see and feel them all… mortal and immortal… killed in the moment for two hundred years. She'd only recently begun taking immortals when she'd realized by chance that a quickening combined with the moment of greatest passion was unusually strong.
Again and again he screamed and moved as though he too were with her. Her quickening arced into him as if it were raping him over and over. Deadly and demanding was the aura of Portia Berrini. Dark were her thoughts and sad her life.
But Duncan had been down this road before. He dug within himself for the only thing that could save him. He raised the katana overhead as if it could shield him.
I am Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod!
