Now that I know they’re safe, I hunt.
Stalking through the crowd, I take out as many as I can. We’ve got a good few still alive at this point, we don’t need many more of these disgustingexcuses for life still alive. I did my research, I know which ones are the main players, and those ones I keep alive.
I’m aware that I need to be careful just how much of my other side I let out in front of everyone here, and in front of Neith.
I know she sees it in me, but I don’t want her to know just how deep the need for violence goes.
I’m terrified that she would be disgusted by me, or worse, fear me.
Neith is a violent little thing. I love that about her, but my violence is not normal even in the world of supernaturals, where violence is so much more common. I can’t risk it. She means too much to me.
My gaze catches on Trip as I crush the fist of someone who thought they could land a hit. He’s special, far stronger than he should be, and I have never seen eyes like that on a supe, so he’s fucking rare. The way he fights, brutal yet controlled, is a testament to the shit that he’s been through. He’s calm, calculated, and deadly.
It’s quite impressive, actually.
I’m glad I didn’t rip his throat out when he stood over Neith threateningly.
To be fair, the only reason why I didn’t was because River had an iron grip on me. I could have gotten through him, but that would have meant hurting him, and he’s my family, I would never do that.
A spear of magic comes flying toward me, making me focus again, and I slice through it with my sword, imbuing it with my magic, and already missing my magic-made swords, even though I only used them once.
It’s strange, but I can feel them, right there, waiting to be called on by me. That would probably give away more than I want it to though, so they’re going to have to stay where they are for now.
Magic stirs within me, dark and deadly, the other side of me, and for the first time, it demands to be fed. It’s not fed physically, I don’t actually eat anything, but it's fed through violence, bloodshed, and lives.
Ever since I fought with that supernatural in Luesidious, something has been different about it, it’s closer to the surface, more ready to be called on, and apparently hungry.
Really fucking hungry.
I have to admit that my thoughts have drifted back to that supernatural a lot since it happened. I really don’t like the fact that I left him in the middle of a battle. That’s not what I do, and it's fucking irritating that I didn’t get to finish what I started.
Not only that, but I find myself genuinely caring about what happened to him. I want to know if he’s okay, and if he’s not, does he need help? Is he dead?
The only way I can think of to find these answers is to try to find the imps. I know that they didn’t send me there, but they did send Neith, which means that they could send me back so I can see if he’s okay.
The Hunt.
That’s what he called them, a word that resonated within me for a reason that is entirely unknown to me.
I felt a kinship with him, and I don’t feel like that with many people. As a general rule, I try to avoid people as much as possible. My family is the exception of course. By that I mean the guys and Neith, not my blood family. I have no idea who they are.
The problem with going to see the imps is time. It’s always time, we seem to have too much to do in the time that we have. In a way, it’s a good thing, several members of my family, myself included, get bored with inaction, but in times like these, it’s not.
I’m hoping that we’re going to get a window of an hour or two where I can take one of the guys with me, and we can go and find the imps and get them to send us to Lewi again.
I’ll most likely end up taking River and Coen with me since they’re as restless and curious as I am.
The other thing that I don’t think has occurred to anyone else yet is that I’m not supposed to be able to breathe in Luesidious, and yet I definitely could, just like Neith was able to.
It’s yet another mystery to add to our ever-growing pile, and to be honest, I don’t really care about it as much as I care about knowing whether the Hunt got hold of him. They were strong and determined, and I know that it would have been really bad if he were captured by them, and if they killed him, a growl of anger builds in my chest, then I have his death to avenge.
I need to focus.
I have been fighting while these thoughts have been circling my brain, but I really should be paying more attention, someone might surprise me.
Just as I think this, a different magic stirs, this is mine, but it’s completely new. Before I can work it out, someone charges me, they’re sloppy, and I simply take a step back, raising my sword and getting ready to defend myself as I allow the more violent part of me to come closer to the surface.
He stops though, looking around like he can’t see me, even though I am still standing right in front of him. It’s then that I realize the sounds around me are sharper, more in focus, but there’s a dark edge to everything.
