SEBASTIAN - Evisceration
WaterRose, Meadow Mountain, Grier country
In Elsabet’s mad flight down the corridor, she spotted a suit of armor displayed on her right. Unbuckling the dagger and sword sheaths, she slipped them over her shoulders and cinched the dagger around her waist. Eased by the familiar feel of a blade at her back.
Sebastian rounded the corner as she put them in place. He chuckled.
Comforted by tiny blades. It was amusing.
He reached for her, but she took a long step, sliding from his reach. His laughter intensified. “You think now you have a weapon; you’ll be safe from me?”
She darted a look over her shoulder to verify he’d stopped following her. But walked faster anyway.
“Nothing can keep you from me.” His head lowered dangerously.
Evading his gaze, she eyed the endless length of portraits. They bore witness to her shameful walk back to her cage. Torches lit on either side of her as she passed. Causing her to jerk at each pop and smoky sizzle.
Re-entering the inner chambers of WaterRose, made the walls vibrate with energy. Another torch exploded in red and yellow. She glanced at it tensely. Looking forward, she squawked at finding him in her path. Nearly slamming into him.
She jumped backward. Hands fluttering before her. “I need no assistance to protect me from you, Lord Bodane.” She said scathingly.
“Oh…” He taunted. “Don’t you?”
Stepping past him she took the hallway rapidly. Shoulders tight as she tried to ignore the hiss of blooming torches.
“My name is Sebastian.” He called to her retreating back.
Another torch lighting made her squeak and skitter sideways.
She doesn’t know it’s her magic? He laughed harder, clutching his belly.
She shot a withering glower over her shoulder.
Sensing he toyed with fire, possibly literally, he still couldn’t stop. Trailing her step. It’s impossible to resist baiting her.
“Where are you going? You’ve past the stairs.” He gestured behind them. Knowing she’d merely seen the armor and weapons and headed blindly in that direction.
She didn’t answer.
Ever since the Fallen empowered him, everyone and everything he came across fell at his feet. Except this creature.
Women responded to him hypnotically. Finding touching him irresistible. A fact his brethren usually found less then amusing. And one I’d enjoyed exploiting for nearly a century. Then he’d grown bored.
Bast still found it vaguely comical. But it made contriving to find a mate impossible. Since women typically thought themselves in love with him from first glance due to his power.
Perhaps it’s just her lovely rounded bottom. He nearly purred at the sight of the pleasant rolling of her slim curves under the fitted breeches. Absorbed by that pleasant lulling motion, he’d failed to notice she’d abruptly slowed.
He slammed into her back.
This time she exploded. Turning on him with a shriek.
Making his sensitive ears ring. He covered them, wincing against the pain. Crouching instinctively.
She thinks I want to hurt her. The realization made him sober instantly. Refusing to retreat, he straightened to meet her nose to nose without flinching. “Listen.”
Teeth gritted and chest heaving, she quaked. Ready to attack.
Sensing her aggression, he realized he’d taken taunting her too far.
She now thought she’d come to the point of defending herself from being harmed.
She doesn’t need to fear me forcing her.
Relenting, he held his hand up for her to inspect, showing he meant no harm. Slowly unlacing his armor with the other. Then his chainmail. Sliding his shoulders free.
In only a tunic and breeches I’ll be no threat.
Her eyes sparked unblinkingly as she watched his movements, bleeding to rich red. The pupils swallowed by dark color. Upper lip jerking rhythmically.
The sound of Bast’s armor finally clanking to the floor triggered her. With explosive results.
Rearing back, her nails elongated into serrated talons. She defensively swiped, sinking them into the flesh of one pectoral muscle. Imbedding in the back of his bicep on the other shoulder. She jerked forward and to the side, tearing through him. Tissue gave and tore. Splashing red drops on the painting next to them. Marring the pale face watching them.
What in the Hell? He roared in pain.
She stared in horror, expecting the usual results of evisceration.
To his gratification, it was apparent she’d not intended to hurt him.
There was the same instant remorse he saw on her face a few nights past. When she’d dropped him over Warlock Grove, expecting he’d fall to his death.
Always a moment later than it should be. His lips peeled back in a snarl.