Every good fairytale starts with a 'once upon a time'. For example…

 

Once upon a time, in a far away land, everything was right in the world. Once upon a time, people were capable of showing mercy. Yes, some of them were flawed, but most of them tried, tried to do better, tried to forgive and forget, and to make the world a better place to live in. But happiness, sometimes, can only be an illusion, because once you learn the truth, you can never be happy again. People didn't know as much as they thought they knew. There was happiness in not knowing, in not being aware of the truth, but it couldn't last forever.

 

Many times upon a time, fairytales were just stories told around the fire, meant to scare children. But when it had been found that there's a grain of truth in every story, many refused to believe it. A lot of them refused to get out of their safety zone, until proven otherwise

 

It was the year 2033, in a small town from Colorado, when Reed Conway, a 34 years-old man, decided to go hunting in a forest that many men didn't dare venture into. The Oldgrass Forest. It was said to be one of the strangest places on earth, it was the 'powerhouse of the supernatural being', as the elderly liked to tell their grandchildren in their stories. But, of course, being a grown ass man, Reed Conway didn't believe in all those silly tales. He was a skeptic man. Therefore, he took his shotgun, got dressed in his hunting suit and ventured in the woods of Oldgrass. A day had passed since he'd left. Then one more. His mother had started to worry, was even about to report him missing when, eventually, Reed Conway returned home. Only he was not alone. Dropped over his shoulder was a naked, bleeding woman. After calming his mother, he started explaining the situation. He had been hunting in the woods, looking for a deer to shoot when a wolf had attacked him. Not just any wolf, but a massive, enormous wolf, with golden eyes and a predator's teeth. He'd tried shooting the wolf, Reed explained, but nothing seemed to put it down, not even all of his bullets. His only remaining chance to get out of there alive was his silver knife. So when the wolf launched itself at him again, in a swift moment, he managed to drive a knife through its shoulder. The wolf fell to the ground, bleeding, and Reed Conway knew he could make it out of the woods alive that night. He was just about to gather his sleep bag, when he turned around and didn't see the wolf lying on the ground. Instead, he saw a naked woman, with blood coming out of her shoulder. It was inexplicable. He told himself he was just tired, but even after rubbing his eyes countless times, there still was a woman lying on the ground instead of a wolf. So he tried helping her, tried to stop the bleeding, and when he saw he could still not wake her up, he dropped her over his shoulder and made it out of the woods, praying to God there was a reasonable explanation for whatever it was that was happening.

 

Hearing the story, Reed's mother didn't say a thing for a few seconds.

 

"Devil's work," the old lady hissed through her teeth, touching the little cross she wore around the neck.

 

Knowing he could not reason with his superstitious mother, Reed took the girl to the nearest hospital. Only, after he put her in the backseat and returned from the house after he had forgotten his coat, the girl was gone. But in the distance, he saw the same wolf from the other night walking down the street, heading to the woods.

 

No one believed Reed's story. Not the police, not his family, not even his friends. But, just to prove him that he was delusional and imagining things, a few of his closest friends agreed to return to the woods with him and see for themselves. Therefore, a few nights later, seven men, Reed and his younger brother included, ventured to the woods of Oldgrass. On their fourth night there, when they were just about to pack their things and go back home, something attacked them. Only it wasn't just a wolf this time. No, it was a whole pack of them. Out of all those seven men, only Reed Conway and his younger brother, Oliver Conway, made it out of the Oldgrass Forest alive. They reported everything they knew to the police department, who wouldn't have believed them if it hadn't been for a wolf's bite on Oliver's shoulder. Three days later, Oliver Conway died. In a few weeks, the word spread. There were werewolves in the Oldgrass Forest. No matter how much the local police tried to tune down the crowd's protests, no result came. Later after that, word spread further. Newspapers from all around the country wanted to tell the story of the small town boy who had discovered the existence of something that seemed unnatural. Eventually, after months of searching through those woods, a few hunters managed to catch a wolf alive. So they chained the wolf, put it in a cage and drove back to town. Only that, a few hours later, the wolf was no longer a wolf. The hunters saw with their own eyes how the wolf shifted his bones and turned human. It was no longer a rumor. Not even the most skeptical could deny it any longer. Tests had been run on that man-wolf, and the proof that they needed was right in front of their eyes. Every night, not only in a full moon, the man turned himself into a werewolf. He didn't scream in pain as it had been told in stories and legends. In a matter of seconds, a human being became a wolf.

 

Now the questions started. If werewolves were real, what else was real? Vampires? Witches? People became more aware of their surroundings and of the people they passed by on the street. And that's how the existence of the vampires was proven. In Chicago, a body drained of blood was found. Only this time, people didn't find a logical explanation behind that incident, like an animal attack. Their first guess was a vampire. A researching group had been created, the P.A.O. A. (paranormal activity of America), with none other than Reed Conway as its president. In a matter of months, the first vampire was captured. There was another set of tests, of experiments, and only with torture could the P.A.O.A. drag information out of the vampire. The world was full of supernatural creatures. Not only werewolves and vampires, but witches and wizards and fairies and a whole bunch of other monsters. They were all aware of the existence of the others. It was a community of them.

 

Not only America, but the whole world lived in constant panic for a while. After all, how could you sleep at night knowing what hides in the dark? More creatures were captured, interrogated, and answers were brought into light. In the year 2050, the Great Wall of America was created, with the purpose to isolate themselves from other states. The plan was to annihilate each and every one of the "unnaturals" from their country and prevent other creatures from entering. What was once a mighty country became a cowardly state under quarantine. The government fell and the president no longer ruled the country. The P. A. O. A. took control, with one of Reed Conway's children as its leader. America was no longer a presidential country, either. Soon after that, in 2063, America declared itself kingdom, with Allymius Conway as its king, and changing its name into the United Kingdom of Allymea.

 

In order to "disinfest" the new formed kingdom from the presence of the supernatural beings, King Allymius ordered the writing of a new book, a book where every knowledge they had about every supernatural creature had to be written down. In 2065, The Book of the Wicked was published, and every citizen was forced to buy it.

"This will be your new Bible," Allymius Conway said in one of his speeches, after the publishing of the book. "Those who don't have at least an exemplar in their homes will be banished from U.K.A."

Every month, in every house of every city, the Restitutioners (the new established police department) checked people's houses and made sure there was a copy of The Book of the Wicked under every roof.

In the year 2067, the last edition of the book was published. Every monstrosity they had to defeat had been discovered. As the book said, there were four categories of supernatural beings.

The first category was the most harmless one. It included fairies and banshees. Fairies were not like the legends described them to be, with little wings and wands. Sure, they could metamorphose into a smaller version of themselves and fly around like insects, barely detectable to the human eye, but there were no wands or magic dust. The only new thing that was real was the fact that fairies could only use their magic for honorable purposes. They could not practice dark magic, and any fairy that didn't respect that rule faced immediate death.

Banshees were female spirits perceived as an omen of death, according to the folklore. They were also called the 'messengers', due to the fact that every time they sensed the upcoming of a death, they started wailing. They were not harmful, and neither were the fairies, but just like every unnatural creatures, they had to be eliminated.

The second category was divided into sorcerers and nymphs. Unlike the fairies, sorcerers could practice dark magic and that's why they were a bigger threat. The most terrifying thing was that they could infiltrate in the society with no tribulations of some sort. Unlucky for them, wizards and witches knew no restrain when it came to practicing magic, that's why they had been caught and killed countless times.

Nymphs were regarded as divine spirits that possessed an unnatural beauty and charm. Their only purpose was to kill unfaithful men, charming them with their beauty and lurking them to their death. They could not die of age or illness, and they could also metamorphose into animals, most of the time into birds. They could have complete access to their power and access to an everlasting beauty once they had gone through their first heartbreak. After a man had broken a nymph's heart, she would start breaking men's hearts, only in a more literal way. The only thing that could kill a nymph was a knife or any sort of weapon bathed in the waters of the rivers from the Oakum Mountain, a location that hadn't been found yet. But then again, nymphs weren't that much of an issue, since the hunters had only found two nymphs and they had both been slaughtered as soon as found.

The third category was formed of vampires and werewolves. They were the only creatures that matched the description of legends and myths. Vampires were indeed undead creatures that subsisted by feeding on the life essence, and that could be killed with a stake through the heart. The only new discovered thing was that they could walk in the daylight with no difficulty. As for werewolves, nothing untold in legends was discovered. They were still humans with the ability to shape-shift into a wolf. As for killing those, a silver bullet or poisoning with Aconitum, also known as the wolf's bane, were the only solution.

The fourth category was the most treacherous, hazardous and harmful one. Demons and necromancers. Necromancers were said to be the interrogators of the death. Unlike the banshees, they could not foresee deaths, but they could communicate with the deceased. It had been found along the years that some necromancers could bring people back from the death. They had been placed in the fourth category because practicing black magic to conjure up the death was the darkest of the darkest type of sorcery. Fortunately, there had been found only 5 or 6 necromancers for the past 100 years.

Least, but not last, were the demons. The deadliest of the wicked. The fallen angels. They were the incarnation of the evil, the troupe of the devil. They brought hell on earth, by possessing human bodies and taking control over them. That's what made them the most feared, their ability to walk among humans with no one suspecting their true origin or power, and with the purpose to make humans sin. Most of the demons' hosts were people of an exquisite beauty, used as an advantage lurk people, to persuade them more easily. After creating The Book of the Wicked, the hunters had dealt only with demons of the lowest hierarchy, demons who wanted nothing to do with hell anymore or with spreading the evil on earth, who only wanted to experience the human life. Torturing the answers out of those demons with holy water, it had been found out that the demons of the highest "rank" hadn't made it out of hell since centuries ago, and were most likely to stay there and not get involved in the mess that the earth had become. Also by torturing those low-rank demons, the hunters had found that a demon could not be killed, only exorcized, leaving its host unconscious, possibly dead, and going back to the hell they had crawled from.

And those were the four categories. Now that they knew what they dealt with, the population of Allymea had to take action. They had to fight against the supernatural, the unnatural, to make the new kingdom a safe place again. And in order to do that, every citizen had to fight. And that's exactly why a new law had been enforced by the King. At the age of 21, every man had to become a hunter and be initiated in the army by killing a supernatural creature. It was mandatory, no one had a choice. Those who didn't obey and refused to kill paid the price with their own lives. Those who refused to kill became the killed. Until the age of 21, every man was instructed, trained, told how to proceed and what to do in order to pass their test. The masculine population of Allymea had no other choice than to obey the King and his will.

The story that I'm about to tell you starts in the year 2133. In the 22th century, King's Allymius grandchild is the new King of the U.K.A. And the laws are pretty much the same. Kill to live. Live to kill. No other choice.

This story tells what happens after the 'once upon a time'. This story tells the truth about what goes bumping in the night. The real question is: can you handle the truth?

 

2: Chapter 1 . Breaking Teen Spirits

 

The wind ripped the sound of a sigh away. The wheels' rattling of a carriage approaching and the lazy trot of the horses ringed in the silence of the woods. Slowly, the carriage entered a small, deprived village of truly pitiable peasants. And the only foundation of that pity was the time they were living in.

 

A pair of bright, green eyes, that held the spring captive in their shade, scanned the surroundings. The village was buried in snow. Even if it was the middle of December and outside was a frozen hell, the green eyes still observed women washing their kids' clothes outside in washing basins, with their hands reddish and numb and their breathes coming out in visible puffs and joining the darkened clouded sky. With a disapproving shake of a head and another loosened breath, the green eyes from inside the carriage focused their attention on something else. In the distance, there could be seen a middle-aged man playing with his son, or more like pretending to instruct him on how to hold a sword. The kid, who couldn't have been older than 9 or 10 years, watched with an awestruck expression his father's sword, trying to reach for it and hold it himself. Little does he know, the green eyed person thought, that in a few years, he'll wish to hold anything but a sword in his hands.

 

There was another sigh. That pair of green eyes had seen too much in this world. Those eyes had seen an entire world, an entire country burn to the ground. Those eyes had seen a place, which had once been called home by many, change completely in a matter of days. Those eyes had watched fire and smoke turn skies grey, had seen explosions and deaths. Those eyes had seen loss happen all at once. Those eyes wished to see love once more, but knew it was not possible. In a world on fire, in the United States of Allymea, love was lost.

 

The possessor of the green eyes, the source of those thoughts, was a person that maybe had no rights to judge a hell bent world, when she herself had been one of the many that had helped to its construction. There was more than only one culprit and, after all, the brokenness of that world was no longer remediable.

 

Her name was Kira Atkinson, and she was one of the most feared hunters in the entire kingdom. And, as she tightened her black cloak around herself and sighed for the third time, she wondered how it was even possible that she had been the one to save the prince's life.

 

To celebrate the national day of Allymea and 70 years of dictatorship in the 'beloved' kingdom, the capital, Iskar, also the hometown of King Gabryell and his son, Prince Antonio, organized a festival, where, in the last day of celebration, the King and his heir were to make an appearance and hold a speech.

 

The Restitutioners and some of the mightiest hunters in the whole territory were requested to be there and guard the King from any attacks of the Wicked, but given that no one had assaulted the King and his army since the first war between the hunters and the Wicked in 2072, the defense force was not entirely prepared for what was to come.

 

Kira Atkinson had specifically been requested there. Not by the King, of course, seeing as he had more important business to attend than to worry about hunters. All that he knew was that they were guarding him, and that was what mattered. But the one who had asked explicitly for the huntress' presence was the captain of the hunters, Captain Danilovich. Kira knew she was she was the only female hunter in the entire Kingdom, and because of her slenderness, most of her opponents underestimated her – to their own misfortune. But she hadn't expected to be the one who actually got to guard the prince, along with Captain Danilovich.

 

While King Gabryell held his speech about the power of the Kingdom, the integrity and loyalty, His Majesty, Prince Antonio Conway sat in his chair, looking entirely bored to death and showed by his father's words of encouragement for their people.

 

"Why am I being dragged into this, Vladimir?" Kira asked Captain Danilovich over the kind's words, whispering the sentence so no one could hear them, but still gazing straight ahead and inspecting the area for any possible threats.

 

Captain Vladimir Danilovich allowed himself a small smile at her words, but the corners of his mouth fell back into place seconds after, reminding him that he was on duty.

 

"I'm not sure what you mean, Miss Atkinson," he said in his thick, Russian accent, also allowing himself to get distracted for a while and look at her from the corner of his eye.

 

"I believe you are. It was not mandatory for me to be here today. I'm certain that you could have found a more skilled hunter to take my place and guard the royal family. Especially someone who's not a woman."

 

Vladimir stiffened uncomfortably for a second, an uncharacteristically thing coming from an illustrious Captain such as him.

 

"And I believe you are more skilled than any of those hunters." he answered promptly, fixing her with his gaze for a second before looking straight ahead again. A playful grin spread across Kira's face. She'd always had a thing for that accent of his.

 

She knew exactly why she'd been requested there. She had known for a while, ever since the National Day from last year, when she and Vladimir had met at the celebration bonfire, a tradition their city had. Every year, on the National Day, the people of Iskar lit up a bonfire in the woods, told stories and danced around the fire, believing that the flames held the meaning of purification. That's how ordinary people celebrated the National Day. As for the King and the noble families, they chose to organize a ball at the castle, with fine music played by prestigious artists and elegant outfits.

 

For all she knew, Captain Danilovich was supposed to be at the palace that night, take care of his men and make sure that the royal family was as safe as they could be, but instead, he had come to the bonfire. As for Kira, she preferred to enjoy a casual night with dances around the fire and alcohol than a night at a fancy ball. And apparently, so did the Captain.

 

She was the one to offer him a drink from her bottle, and that's how they started talking. By the end of the night, they were drowning in alcohol and sharing stories as if they'd known each other since forever. And even though Kira didn't remember how it happened, she had ended up in his apartment, sleeping next to him. Since then, they hadn't spoken about that night, and even though Kira didn't pay that much attention to the Captain and acted like nothing had happened, she had a feeling the Captain might have developed some feeling for her.

 

For the rest of the King's speech, they didn't speak a word to each other and kept on focusing their attention on the prince's safety. After rounds of applause and cheers from the crowd, it was Prince's Antonio turn to speak.

 

Kira saw the sniper before he could shoot. Prince Antonio barely had the chance to get up from his seat before the huntress yelled a warning at him.

 

"Get on the ground!"

 

And before it was too late, she threw her weight on the prince and pinned him on the ground, and only then did she hear the shots. That's when the chaos began. People started screaming, running in all directions, hunters had their guns out in a second, and running to protect the King and the other nobles, as Kira still had the Prince pinned on the ground, out of the sniper's range. She couldn't see a damned thing, couldn't see who shot the fire, couldn't see if there were more of them or just the one she saw, but she heard the gunshots and the thick, Russian accent of the Captain yelling orders. Even though the Prince didn't make a sound the whole time, Kira could still hear his uneven intakes of breath and the frightened expression on his face. The golden boy has never gone through something like this, the huntress thought.

 

She couldn't remember how long it lasted, or for how long she and the prince stayed like that, with her covering his body and holding him on the ground, but she remembered strong, manly hands grabbing her shoulders and helping her and the prince up.

 

"Your Majesty, are you hurt?" a hunter ,whose name Kira didn't know, asked Prince Antonio, looking him up and down and searching for any possible wounds.

 

The Prince didn't even as much as look in his direction.

 

"You saved my life," His Majesty spoke in a low voice, watching Kira Atkinson with a wide-eyed expression.

 

She kept a cold and flat expression on her face, not answering the prince's unnecessary remark. "Did someone die? Are there any injured?" she asked the hunter, who seemed more shocked that the huntress didn't reply to the prince's comment than the fact that there had been an attack a couple of minutes ago, but eventually, he answered with a shake of his head. "Did you indentify the sniper? Did you catch him?"

 

"He ran before our men could get to him," the hunter responded.

 

"Was he one of the Wicked?" she asked carefully, her curiosity growing stronger and stronger. But it was impossible. There hadn't been an attack for over 60 years.

 

The hunter only shrugged helplessly and left to join the others. Kira was about to do the same when she felt a hand stopping her and grabbing her by the shoulders gently. She turned around, ready to snap at whoever the impertinent who dared touch her was, when her eyes rested on the scared expression of the Prince.

 

"I must repay you," he said in a much bolder voice, His Majesty going back to his royal self.

 

Kira sighed, biting back a snarky comment. "No need," she murmured before trying to turn around again.

 

The Prince didn't seem to take no for an answer. "But you saved my life."

 

Kira Atkinson allowed herself to look at him over her shoulder a little, feeling a smug smile lift the corners of her lips. "It's in the job's description, kid."

 

And with that last line, she finally turned on her heels and left the Prince in the guard of the captain. Kid? Had she seriously dared call him a kid? The Prince of Allymea, the heir, son of Gabryell, a kid? Anyone who would've said that to him would have her or his head rolling on the floor. But he couldn't order the death of his savior, could he? Plus, His Majesty thought, it would be a shame to cut that pretty, little head off. How was it possible for such a beautiful human being to be a hunter? How could those delicate, feminine hands murder creatures? And most importantly, why was he, the next King of his father's Kingdom, thinking such things of a woman he had seen for no more than three minutes?

 

But as it had been already cleared out, the Prince didn't take 'no' for an answer. Therefore, he ordered men to ask around for more information or gossip about the huntress Kira Atkinson. He found out that she was indeed one of the most competent hunters to ever exist, and the Prince wasn't sure if all the villagers said that because they believed it or because of the respect they had for her. Because that's what it was, respect, not fear. According to one of the villagers, she was living alone in a little rented house, since both of her parents had died at the hands of a vampire. She hunted alone, not in groups like other hunters did. She was foolish enough to venture in the woods alone, and her status as one of the best hunters had come from her numerous kills. Every time she came back from the woods, she had at least one dead creature with her. Rumor had it that she had killed one of the seven necromancers. After all those rumors and tales that were reported back to the Prince, there was no doubt that Kira Atkinson was worthy of her reputation.

 

Prince Antonio informed his father about the one who had saved his son's life, and the King insisted on sending for her and bringing her to the castle, to have a face to face conversation. With no other choice left than to obey, Kira Atkinson came at the King's command.

 

"What gift can we give you, to honor what you had one for us, for my son? I hear you have fine blades, a roof over your head and a reputation that suits you. What else could we give you that you do not possess?" the king mused from his throne, studying the huntress with a furrow between his brows.

 

Kira bowed her head. "There is nothing I wish for, Your Highness, save the honor which you have already given me."

 

Though he was impressed by her lack of arrogance, the King assured her that whatever need she had, whatever favor he wanted to ask for, she needn't hesitate and request. She had, after all, saved the Prince's life.

 

But Kira Atkinson had no favors to ask the King. For all the King's horses and all the King's men couldn't bring her what she truly desire.

 

And there she was, in her carriage, almost making it out of the village. Thoughts and thoughts drifted through her mind and she would have gladly accepted an escape from them. But she was captive, imprisoned in her own mind, with nothing left to do than think of her next trip in the woods, her next kill. Because that's what it was all about, killing. Killing and surviving and –

 

Her train of thoughts was broken by a scream. She looked at the window and heard the whip before she saw it. A few meters away, she saw a bare-chested man, who stood with upraised arms tied to an overhead tree branch. And he was being whipped. There were a few people gathered around to witness the whole scene. With every hit, the man groaned in pain, and the one who was whipping him looked like he enjoyed the hell out of it, as another man stood a few feet away with a gun in his hands, supervising everything. Without thinking twice, Kira ordered the coachman to stop the carriage and she climbed off, damning her curious nature that would get her in trouble one day.

 

With quick steps, she headed towards one woman from nearby and asked her what he was being whipped for.

 

"Oh, didn't you hear, dear?" the woman said in a southern accent. "He is sentenced to death."

 

The huntress frowned. "What terrible crime did he commit to be killed in this matter? If I remember correctly, men were being whipped if -"

 

"If they refused to kill a supernatural being and pass their test." the woman finished for her.

 

Kira could feel her jaw drop. But that was impossible. No one would refuse… no one had ever refused. She watched for a few seconds the gashing wounds all over the man's upper torso and his bloodied face groaning in pain. She heard a lash of the whip. Another. And then another. The next stroke split the skin across his shoulder and he gasped, clamped his lips with his teeth until blood appeared at the corners of his lips. But not once did he beg for his life. His eyes distended each time the whip fell.

 

"Beg!" the man who was whipping him screamed. "Beg me to stop, goddamn you!"

 

"Bastard," the 21 years-old man hissed breathlessly.

 

On the next stroke, a scream split the chilly, winter air, making everyone's eyes grow wider and causing some of the women to look away. That's where Kira couldn't take it anymore.

 

"Stop it!" she commanded in a demanding voice, and all the heads turned to her. That cool mask of her didn't as much as flinch.

 

The man with the whip in his hand looked at her once and gave a humorless laugh before lifting his hand in the air and resume whipping. But she wasn't going to back down now.

 

"I said stop it!" Kira repeated, more fiercely this time, and put herself between the whip and the tied man.

 

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" the man growled at the huntress. "He has to be killed. It's the law!"

 

"I told you to stop," Kira said again, without even blinking as she fixed her cold stare on the man. "You're not going to kill him. Not today."

 

But of course he didn't listen to her. "Get out of my way!" he ordered, taking a few steps forward and trying to jerk her away, but before he could lay his dirty hands on her, she moved fast enough and snatched the whip out of the man's hands in a swift move.

 

"I believe you are deaf, sir," Kira spoke calmly, smiling at the man's scared expression. Would you look at that change of scenery? "I told you that this man will not be killed today. Especially not like this." A pause, before she spoke again. "Does the King or the Captain know about this?" The man shook his head as a smile played on the huntress' lips again. "Then I believe you are not authorized to kill this man."

 

"But the law says –" the man tried to say before Kira cut him off again.

 

"I don't care what the law says. As long as the King didn't approve or gave you permission to kill, this man gets to go back home tonight."

 

Turning on her heels, she faced the bleeding hunter and went to untie him from the tree. She should have known better than to believe the other would obey that easily and let her have her way. When she turned her back, he tried to snatch the whip from her hands, but she was too alert and anticipated his move. In a second, Kira took her pocket knife out and pointed it at the man's throat.

 

"I'm giving you 5 seconds to back off before I cut off your head."

 

The crowd watched with shock as the huntress held her knife at the man's throat. It could take her only a second to kill him, to slit his throat open and watch him bleed. Everyone wondered what her reasons were. What reason could there be to save someone who had broken the golden rule? Because the hunters lived by that rule. If they refused to commit their first murder and pass the test, they became the murdered. Men had 21 years to train, to be prepared to kill for their country and make the United Kingdom of Allymea a safer place to live in. There was no rejection, they had to make peace with the fact that they were born to be killers. Refusing that fate was seen as an act of rebellion. And after all, this rule had been given by the first King himself, King Allymius. It could not be broken, there was no undoing it. It was true that a situation like that one had never been seen, no one had ever refused to kill and pass the test. Until that very day.

 

The man raised his hands in a gesture of surrender and took a few steps backwards. After one or two seconds of hesitation, the huntress used her knife to cut the ropes that kept the young man tied to the tree and he fell on the ground with a cry.

 

"You're mad," Kira heard a male voice speak from the crowd. She turned around and saw an old man, certainly not younger than 60, stepping ahead and starring in disgust at the young hunter lying on the ground. She recognized him immediately. Nullius Finch, a retired hunter. "He's a dead man anyway. Believing that you can do anything to save him is just madness. The King will not allow—"

 

Before he could finish his sentence, Kira sent her knife flying. And it flew right past Nullius, landing in a tree branch, next to the old man's head. His eyes widened in surprise and for a few seconds, everyone stood frozen in place.

 

Kira straightened her back, standing tall and intimidating in front of a gaping crowd. "Perhaps you have not heard of me," she finally spoke, her voice fierce and steady. "I'm Kira Atkinson, also known as The Huntress," From the looks on their faces, they had clearly recognized her. If they looked scared before, now they were completely and utterly frightened. "And if I say that this man will get to live another day and someone else disagrees with me, the next blade will land between his eyes." A pause followed, when not even an intake of breath could be heard.

 

"Now," Kira continued, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips, a wild smile that promised death. "Are there any more objections?"

 

She waited for someone to say something, even hoped one of them would, because she was eager to keep her promise and show those peasants what she was capable of when challenged. But they were too scared to move, let alone speak. So she turned to look at the half-dead hunter struggling to get up, and took off her cloak to put it over his shoulders. The young man finally lifted his eyes to look through his bloody vision at the one who had fought so hard to save his life. And for a few seconds, as two pairs of green eyes met, one greener than the other, it seemed like thousands of years had passed, stretching across centuries.

 

She shook that feeling off and helped him get up from the ground for good, throwing his arm over her shoulders and helping him take a few steps towards the carriage. Even though he groaned in pain with every step, they finally made it to Kira's carriage and she helped him sit on the bench seat, climbing next to him soon after.

 

"Where to next, Miss Atkinson?" the coachman asked, his voice a little shaky. It seemed like even her coachman, who had known her for over 10 years, was now afraid of her. Good, Kira thought, let them be.

 

She flashed him a smile before answering. "To the castle."

 

3: Chapter 2 . A Court of Fire and Fury

 

As the coachman herded the horses on the way to the castle, the wheel's sluggish rattling started again. Kira couldn't believe what she was about to do. She couldn't believe what she had actually done. She had jeopardized her reputation, her status, for one man whose name she didn't even know. But there was a voice in her head, in her veins, in her bones that whispered to her, pushed her towards that decision. She had had to save his life, even if that meant sacrificing her own. And she had her reasons to, reasons only she knew.

 

She finally remembered she was not all alone in her carriage and looked at the young hunter, only to find him studying her. But as soon as their eyes met, he dropped his gaze almost immediately. He was panting and not so subtly struggling to keep a straight face. She wondered for how long had that man been whipping him before she showed up.

 

"Let me see your back," she demanded, a little bit more pragmatic than she actually intended. He looked strangely at her, but probably because he was too worn out to argue, he took off her cloak and turned his back to her. Looking at the cuts on his back, Kira wondered how he could still be alive. The wounds ran deep, splitting his skin and with blood still flowing from them. It was remarkable that he could still walk.

 

"How bad is it?" the man asked, the first words he'd addressed to her.

 

"Those are going to leave some nasty scars." Kira didn't bother sugarcoating it. "You should see a healer right after we're done."

 

A few seconds passed before he asked the obvious question. "Done with that?"

 

"Done with saving your life," she answered flatly, stepping away from him and sitting down.

 

Ten seconds of silence. Then twenty. Thirty. "Why are you doing this?"

 

But she didn't feel like answering an unanswerable question, so she changed the subject abruptly.

 

"What's your name?" she said, not bothering to look at him as she did so.

 

More seconds of silence before an answer came. "Sebastian Hendricks."

 

Hendricks. She knew that name. But where from? She would have asked him that, had it not been for him breaking the silence again.

 

"And you're Kira Atkinson." he stated with poise, and she allowed a small smile to play on her lips.

 

"I take it you've heard of me," she glanced in his direction, and like before, he didn't keep her gaze for much longer.

 

"Who hasn't?"

 

She huffed out a laugh and shook her head. That much was true. She was a legend among other hunters. The huntress. The only hunter who dared venture into the woods alone and kill without any help. And now, apparently, she would also be known as the one who had stepped up against the golden rule.

 

It was finally time for Kira to raise the question. "Why did you refuse?"

 

Another long pause followed after, like he might as well deny answering her question, just like she previously did. The pain was obvious in every feature of his face, and only then it occurred to her that talking was an effort for him, considering the state he was in.

 

Sebastian bowed his head, closed his eyes and took a deep breath before finally speaking. "I couldn't. I couldn't kill him."

 

She pondered whether she should stop him right there and let him rest before they had to face the King, or to wait for him to tell the rest of the story. But she had to know the whole story in order to stand up for him at the court.

 

"Why?" she simply questioned, hoping he had a good reason to refuse to pass the test. Or else, she had to agree with the old man and admit he was indeed a dead man. A lost cause.

 

Sebastian pursed his lips and gulped before continuing. "I knew him. They made me kill someone I used to know."

 

Oh. Oh. Even she, one of the fiercest hunters, had to admit that might have been a hard thing to do.

 

"Julian used to be my best friend, back when we were teenagers. I always knew he wasn't just an ordinary kid, that he was a little off the beaten track, but I never paid too much attention to it. He was fascinated by anything that meant the supernatural. He used to daydream about fairies and werewolves, hoping that one day he'll get to see them. He had never showed any hatred towards those monsters. But no one paid too much attention to it, he was just a kid after all. And one day, I found out he ran into the woods, all alone, all by himself. And he never came back."

 

Just when he was about to say something else, he begun coughing excessively, with the severe attempt to catch his breath between coughs. Kira searched in her back pocket for a handkerchief and handed it to him. He took it reluctantly and wiped the blood from the corners of his lips.

 

"He became one of the Wicked?" Kira asked Sebastian, growing impatient.

 

He nodded slowly, taking a deep breath before continuing with his story. "He became a vampire. Someone probably turned him. And now, I had to kill him. So it's a little bit understandable why I couldn't do it without hesitation."

 

"There's a difference between hesitating and refusing. You refused," Kira corrected him. "He's no longer your friend, Sebastian. He's no longer a person. He's a monster."

 

"Don't you think I know that?" Sebastian snapped at her then closed his eyes in an attempt to tune down his anger, since it was a little misplaced. She had been the one to save his life after all, he reminded himself. "And if you think that what I did was wrong, why did you save my life?"

 

"You ask too many questions for someone who just had his ass saved," Kira retorted, keeping her expression just as calm and fixing him with a cold stare. "And I suggest you resist the urge to snap at the King, too, if you really give a rat's ass about your life."

 

She finally broke the gaze and resumed glancing outside, resting her chin on her palm. Sebastian didn't dare to speak after that for a few solid minutes. But, instead, he took his time studying her. The one who had saved his life. Only then did he look at her. Really looked at her. And damn, did he chastise himself for not noticing her looks earlier. Cat-like green eyes, sensuous lips, sharp cheek bones and hair as black as the wintry night combined to create a rare, staggering beauty that caused men to lose all common sense. And he'd known her for no more than half an hour, but her beauty broke on him like some rare flower. But when he found himself thinking those things about her, he shook them away. And even though he tried, he couldn't help but look at her again and again, from the corner of his eye. Maybe it was because of the whole 'life-saving' thing.

 

In the meantime, Kira had to think about her next move. They would arrive at the castle. Then what? How would she know the King wouldn't decide to kill her instead, for not obeying and respecting the law? She played with a hundred possibilities in her head, fitfully and discursively as a musician runs his fingers over a keyboard. At least she had one card to play. And she was going to play it flawlessly.

 

"Thank you," Sebastian found himself saying, and actually meaning it, breaking Kira's train of thoughts. "And I'm sorry for not saying it sooner. It's been a while since someone has actually shown kindness to me."

 

But Kira didn't feel like playing Dr. Phil with him, and took none of his 'appreciation'. "Do not confuse this with kindness." she said, her voice bitter as a tear.

 

"Then what should I take it for?"

 

But no response came, since, as soon as the words left his mouth, the carriage stopped. They had arrived at the King's court. Kira was the first one to get out of her carriage, and only later did she realize that the young hunter probably needed her help to walk. But just when she was about to climb back in and help him, Sebastian stopped her with a hand gesture and tried taking a few steps on his own, but failed miserably since he lost his balance and fell straight forward, right in time for Kira to catch and steady him. She huffed out a laugh at his failed attempt of bravado and threw his arm over her shoulder.

 

Sebastian looked around, thinking that in 21 years since he'd walked on this earth, he had only seen the castle from afar. And it was as breathtaking as he thought it would be. Fourteen towers formed an almost perfectly squared barrier around the marvelous castle and were connected by tall, vast walls made of dark grey stone. Elegant windows were scattered generously around the walls in seemingly perfect symmetry and statues of kings were lined up outside the castle gates, serving as reminders of the past.

 

At a slow pace, Kira and Sebastian headed towards the wooden gates, where two sentinels monitored their approach. The huntress would have slipped past the guard without even as much as a 'hello', had it not been for the two men blocking their way.

 

"Identify yourself." one of the sentinels said, to which Kira rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically.

 

"You've got to be kidding me," she murmured under her breath, then more loudly, "I'm here to see the King."

 

"I'm sorry, Miss Atkinson," the other guard spoke. So he did know her. "We can't let you in. Not both of you."

 

Kira had to resist the urge to roll her eyes again. "Mr. Hendricks is here with me. So you can let –"

 

"I'm sorry," the guard repeated, interrupting the huntress. "But as I said, we can't let anyone enter the King's court."

 

"Oh, for the love of God," Kira snapped at the sentries. "Get over your paranoia! This is a matter of life and – "

 

"What is going on here?" Kira heard a male voice speak from behind the guards, and she looked over their shoulder and saw the massive figure of Captain Vladimir approaching.

 

"Captain –" the guards tried to say, but Vladimir silenced them.

 

"Kira, what is going on?" the captain asked the huntress softly, looking at her.

 

Well, that was just perfect timing, Kira thought. She could finally find a use for the captain's silly crush on her.

 

"Vladimir," she started, softening her voice. Charm mode on. "You need to tell them to let me in. I have to see the King."

 

Captain Danilovich frowned, studying the bleeding man leaning on the huntress' shoulders. "What for?"

 

If someone could just stop asking questions, Kira thought.

 

"I need you to trust me on this one, Captain," she grinned wolfishly and looked at him through her lashes flirtatiously. "For the old times' sake."

 

The Captain gulped visibly and his eyes bulged like eggs. Kira Atkinson smiled rarely, he knew that, and it was crystal clear that she was only using him to get what she wanted. That much even Sebastian Hendricks, who wasn't even aware of the history the two hunters had, had figured. But Gods above, he could not say no to her.

 

"Follow me," Vladimir grumbled, turning on his heels and walking, without looking over his shoulder to see if they were following or not. The huntress smiled victoriously at the two guards and went after the Captain with Sebastian still dropped over her shoulders, but not before hearing one of the sentries mutter the words 'manipulative bitch' under his breath. That only made Kira's grin grow even wider.

 

They entered the large courtyard beyond the walls, and Kira took in every detail. It was so still, as if everything was holding its breath, even the walls. The Captain wordlessly led them into the dim interior of the main building, up a narrow set of stone stairs and into what looked to be a small office. Vladimir entered to announce the King about her presence there. While he was gone, she did not have time to gather herself, to make up excuses or half truths. No, she had no idea what she was going to say. And neither did Sebastian. Even though the huntress was more self-gathered than he was, it didn't mean she had the situation under control.

 

A few minutes later, Captain Danilovich returned, with the same neutral expression on his face.

 

"The King will see you, but not for too long. He has far more important business to take care of. You have 10 minutes."

 

10 minutes. That was a little too specific. But instead she said, "Noted," and entered the small office.

 

Behind a desk, with his oh-so-pretty wife by his side, stood King Gabryell, watching her with black, depthless eyes, and a wicked grin tugging at his lips.

 

"Hello, Kira Atkinson."

 

She had been fooling herself into thinking this would be easy.

 

Kira bowed low, as low as she could without falling, and motioned with a silent gesture for the young hunter besides her to do the same. As she rose, she took a second to look at the King's expression, who had not even once bothered to look in Sebastian's direction, but who kept staring at her as if she was a fly caught in his web. And then she averted his gaze, taking another second to study the queen. Technically, she was not the queen. She was not Prince's Antonio biological mother, only his stepmother. After his first wife had died, the King only needed 2 years to find himself a replacement and a new mother for his child. But, if memory served Kira, the current queen was far more beautiful than the previous one. Far more quite, too. But she was fearsome in her perfection, eternal and calm and radiating grace. But next to her King, she stood obedient and silent, a mere presence in the room. Queen Adeline.

 

"I suppose you have not dropped by for a courtesy visit. " The King didn't bother with pleasantries. "So why don't you cut the cackle and come to the horses, Miss Atkinson?" A long pause, when the King moved his attention on Sebastian. "And while you're at it," he continued. "You can also introduce me to your half-dead companion."

She knew the King would hear her out. After all, he loved games.

 

"He's the reason I'm here, Your Majesty." Kira spoke, her confidence and self-control shocking Sebastian.

 

"Fascinating," The King said, resting his chin on the back of his palm and looking extremely bored by the whole situation. In a few seconds, Kira knew, that would change. "And what could I do for you both?"

 

"He was sentenced to death, Your Majesty."

 

A little surprise and interest sparkled in the King's dark eyes. "I see he is very much alive. Why hasn't it been gone through with it?"

 

Kira didn't as much as move an inch and still didn't make eye contact as she answered in a polite voice. "Because I saved him."

 

The King's eyebrows shot up. "Saved him? What crime did he commit, anyways?"

 

The huntress braced herself and spoke the next words carefully. "He refused to kill and pass his test, Your Majesty."

 

That's when the madness began.

 

In a second, The King slammed his fist on the table and rose from his chair, his eyes flaring like embers, as Captain Danilovich, who stood only a few feet away, gripped his sword tightly, ready to decapitate whomever the King wanted him to.

 

"And why is this traitorous pig still standing here, breathing?" The King spat at both of them. "There is no questioning that rule. And acting against that rule is perceived as perfidy, Miss Atkinson."

 

"Your Majesty," Kira heard Sebastian speak for the first time since they'd gotten there, his voice throaty. "I'm willing to accept my punishment. Miss Atkinson was not making a right judgment my bringing me here and she shouldn't be involved in this."

 

He would have said something more, had it not been for Kira jerking her chin, a silent order for him to stand down as she herself stepped closer to the King.

 

"I was all too aware of what I was doing, I still am," she spoke as fierce as a flame. "And I am not questioning any rule, but I do believe that we should ask questions first and shoot later, or else we are not better than any anarchistic country," she waited a few seconds before adding , "Your Majesty."

 

Sebastian thought to himself that the huntress should have listened to her own advice and resist the urge to snap at the King.

 

"It's not your place to make statements and remarks like that. This country lives by that rule." The King shut Kira down. Or at least thought he did.

 

"Your Majesty, your army is already running out of soldiers, of hunters. The supernatural beings are spreading, possibly planning another attack. Killing young hunters would be a waste of skills and workmanship. It will do us no good."

 

"With the risk of repeating myself, Miss Atkinson," The King said harshly, with only faint of amusement in his eyes. He was enjoying this after all, this verbal sparring, and was continuing it only to see where it would go. "It is not your place to say what will or will not help this country improve."

 

"I am one of the many people who live in this country. I am one of the hunters who fight for it, who go out there and make sure this country is safe. And I am the one who saved your son's life. And I believe I do have a say in this," Another pause, before she spat the last two words. "Your Majesty."

 

There it was. The only remaining card she had to play.

 

The King's laugh echoed in the room filled with tension. "I was wondering when you were going to mention that. That's very cunning of you, Miss Atkinson."

 

But Kira stood her ground and held his gaze, longer than most people dared, including his precious wife. Even so, though, she was walking on thin ice.

 

"I will spare this man's life." The King spoke after a few seconds of heavy silence, with a wicked grin lifting the corners of his lips, and even after his previous boldness, Sebastian still let go of a breath he didn't realize he was holding. Everyone in the room looked surprised, the queen, Kira, Sebastian, even Captain Danilovich. That until the King spoke again. "With only one condition. He has six months to train, to prepare himself and take the test again. Only this time, the test will prove to be more…let's say, difficult."

 

Difficult. From the grin tugging at the King's lips, Kira and Sebastian could both anticipate what that meant.

 

"Difficult how?" Kira found herself asking.

 

"Where's the fun if I disclose it all?" The King said in a mocking voice. "He shall live and see."

 

"I'll help him train." Kira offered, without even as much as a second thought.

 

The King clicked his tongue. "To what end? Why waste your time with it?"

 

"As I said, I want the best for our country and it's a waste of –"

 

"And I don't believe those are your only reasons. Therefore, he will have to train alone. And I will not forgive your nosiness for the second time, Miss Atkinson. Dismissed."

 

The King didn't bother to throw them a second glance before returning to his papers and documents from his desk and letting Sebastian and Kira see themselves out. Therefore, Kira didn't bother with a bow this time, either, so she just turned on her heels, without helping Sebastian this time and got out of the office. Limping, but still managing to walk by himself, the young hunter followed her.

 

She had just reached the stairs and was about to keep on walking, had it not been for a reckless thought popping into her mind. Therefore, she turned on her heels abruptly and waited for Sebastian to catch up with her, arms crossed over her chest. When he finally reached her, she put herself in his path.

 

"I'll train you." she told him directly, not much of a question, but a statement.

 

"You heard what the King said," Sebastian stopped walking, too, leaning against the stone wall to catch his breath. "You can't train me. And I appreciate your help, I really do, but –"

 

"Did I stutter?" Kira snapped at him impatiently. "I. Will. Train. You. The King doesn't have to know," she turned on her heels and started walking again, and spoke the next words without looking over her shoulder at him. "You have five days to recover before we start."

 

4: Chapter 3 . Fear Will Learn How To Fear Me

 

A black bird opened its wings and fled. A black bird flew, flew through the sky, flew over cozy homes, over the hunters' training fields, over the King's palace, over fortresses and citadels and over everything that meant humanity. A black bird flew through the sky and didn't stop till she reached the woods. The shadowy, sinful and wicked woods. A black bird landed on a tree branch, looking aglow in the light of the full moon. A black bird looked around, gazed off into the distance, and saw The Wall. The great, defensive Wall. The Wall of Allymea, or as others liked to call it, The Wall of resistance. When, in fact, it was only a wall built on cowardliness and dread. One day, a black bird would fly right past that Wall and be free. But today was not that day.

 

The black bird finally fixed her eyes downwards and sensed the others before she saw the campfire. Normally, you would have thought that it would be pretty imprudent to light a fire in the woods, where the hunters could see the smoke emerging from the trees, but the truth was, no hunter dared venture so deep in the woods. Not when there was no rest for the Wicked.

 

The black bird sang to announce her arrival and everything around her dropped dead. The people sitting around the fire or in their tents listened to the song and remained silent. No birds sang in that forest. No bird except the black bird.

 

The black bird flew overhead, circled back cautiously then gracefully landed several feet away from the others. A flash of light shone in the dark woods, and in a matter of seconds, the black bird took the shape of a human, a full-clothed, tall and brooding woman. And everyone knew that her arrival meant only one thing. Chaos.

 

Annabelle Maxwell, leader of the Wicked, the only remaining nymph left in the Allymea Kingdom, was here. And she was ready to unleash hell among her own kind.

 

"Where is he?" Annabelle demanded in a bitter voice, her face as grim as a mask. But no answer came. Because no one dared move or speak, let alone start pointing fingers and throw the blame at each other.

 

The army of the Wicked, sorcerers, vampires, werewolves, banshees, even fairies looked at her with terror in their eyes. She was their leader, a born ruler, the one who had gathered them, made them stronger, and who, soon enough, would help them rise from the ash. But even though they respected her, most of them feared her. Because Annabelle Maxwell had not won the title of leader for nothing. No, she was the head of the army for a reason. She was the strongest, the most lethal and, above all, the wickedest. And now, they had done the most terrible mistake of their lives. They had gotten her angry.

 

"I asked where he is." Annabelle repeated, more brutal this time. After a few seconds of heavy silence, the nymph spoke again, shouting this time. "Axton, come out wherever you are! You can't hide forever. I know it was you."

 

Normally, hearing her tone, everyone, whether they were humans or monsters, would run in the opposite direction. But not Axton. For a simple werewolf, he was rather bold. And for someone who had committed the mistake he had, he was rather stupid, too.

 

So Axton took a few steps forward and came out of the crowd, arms extended in a mocking gesture of surrender.

 

"Here I am," he said heroically, grinning foolishly at the nymph. "Did you call for me, Your Highness?"

 

But Annabelle did not have time for his jokes or idiotic nicknames. For he had done something behind her back, he had acted on his own, and that, a leader of good judgment could not tolerate.

 

"You have two minutes to start justifying yourself." she told him, standing tall and intimidating in front of the speechless crowd who could only watch.

 

But Axton stood his ground. "I have nothing to justify myself for."

 

"Really?" the nymph arched an eyebrow at his words. "Is acting against my orders nothing? Is putting foot outside these woods without my permission nothing? Especially when you all know how dangerous it is out there, how easily you could get yourself killed. And is an attempt at killing the only remaining heir, Prince Antonio, nothing?"

 

Axton only shrugged nonchalantly at her rage. "Why bicker so much about it and split my hairs for what I've done? When, in fact, I acted when no one else had the courage to."

 

"Courage," Annabelle spat the word out, shaking her head slightly. "If you think that was an act of bravery, then you are just a poor, deluded soul. You tried to kill the Prince all by yourself, you fool, and you tried to shoot him when you knew how well protected he was. He was surrounded by the most powerful hunters in the whole kingdom. If you had been smart enough, you would have listened to me and stayed put."

 

"Stay put?" Axton replied angrily, finally letting go of that faked calmness. "Where will that get us, Annabelle? When are we finally going to stand up for ourselves and pay back those sons of bitches for what they have done to us? How many people have to lose their lives in order for you to understand that staying put is not a solution? And for how long are we supposed to stay put?"

 

"Are you questioning me, Axton?" the leader asked carefully, narrowing her eyes at the werewolf.

 

"You know what? Yes, I actually am questioning you. I'm questioning you and your ways, because they are getting us nowhere. Maybe choosing you as our leader was not our wisest decision. Because, Annabelle," Axton spoke more slowly, taking a few steps towards the nymph and stopping right in front of her. "In the end, you are only a coward, spineless and pathetic bit –"

 

But before he could finish his sentence and before he could anticipate what was happening, Annabelle took out her silver knife from her cloak and drove it right across Axton's neck. He didn't have time to cry out in pain, to jerk away or to even anticipate what had happened as his body dropped face first to the ground, never to rise again.

 

If the crowd was gaping before, now their jaws were almost hitting the ground.

 

"You fools," Annabelle hissed at them, speaking after a few seconds of complete and utter silence. "I'm the one you should fear. Not the King, not his hunters, not his entire army. Me!"

 

Her voice boomed across the forest, making the hair on everyone's back rise. She was a steady force of nature. She was not to be disobeyed or questioned. She was to be feared.

 

"God knows I've tried," she resumed speaking. "I've tried to make you understand that not listening to my orders was foolish and reckless. I kept repeating that, but still you refuse to understand. And if by being your friend, your ally, not just a leader, I did not make myself understood, then I shall try another way. If fear will make you understand, then so be it. And this," she pointed with her bloodied dagger at the body lying on the ground. "This will be the fate of those who decide to follow in Axton's footsteps."

 

She waited for someone to say something, to object or to protest, but she wasn't sure whether they had nothing else left to tell or they were just scared. But one thing was certain. There was no person in that crowd, in that whole godforsaken forest that had seen that dark, twisted side of her. Annabelle Maxwell had been a nonviolent, passive leader. She had never killed one of her own kind, not when she cared so much for her army. And the army cared for her right back. She had known how to make herself understood without resorting to violence. Until that very day.

 

Since it was obvious that no one knew how to react or what to say, Annabelle made her way out of the crowd and entered wordlessly one of the empty tents that had been prepared especially for her arrival. For half an hour, give or take, she only stood there, alone with her thoughts and cleaning her guns. She had never meant for it to be this way. But she had to prove a point. No one would make it out alive if they disobeyed her, or else, more people like Axton were to come. However wrong it was, not for a second even did Annabelle regret what she had done.

 

After finishing with one of her guns, Annabelle heard someone slowly enter the tent and she turned her head only to see Alexander, a sorcerer and one of her only remaining friends, sliding slowly besides her.

 

"If you came here to spit in my face or throw the blame, then you might as well leave." the nymph spoke coldly, not bothering to throw a second glance in Alexander's direction. But she should have known better than to hope to be left alone for that night.

 

"Are those the only reasons behind my visit that you can think of?" he said in his same, jovial voice. Even though the end of the world was to come or death was to show up one day and take him away, Alexander, Annabelle's best friend in the entire world, would not lose the cheerfulness of his voice. She loved that about him, loved his forever-positive attitude. Sometimes, she envied him for it.

 

"Maybe I'm here to see how you're holding up." Alex spoke again, moving a little closer until their elbows touched.

 

Annabelle gave a joyless laugh. "I just killed one of my men, even though I vouched to protect you, not fight against you. How do you think I'm feeling?"

 

A few seconds slipped by before Alex broke the silence, cutting the tension with a knife as Annabelle knew he always did. "He was sort of a dick, though."

 

Despite herself, the nymph chuckled slightly.

 

"No, but, I'm serious now, Bell, don't beat yourself up for it. I was sort of considering killing him myself for all of the things he had said about you. Plus, if you hadn't acted on it, the bastard would have probably done something stupid again and endanger us all."

 

She knew he would understand. He understood everything. That's why she spoke the next words with no reticence or shyness.

 

"You know, Alex," she said, resting her head on his shoulder. She lived for those little moments of comfort between them. "There are moments when I feel like I've hit rock bottom, like there's a point of no redemption that I've reached," she let a few seconds of silence pass before speaking again. "I've done so many terrible things, horrible things, and some I'd actually enjoyed. There is no salvation for people like me."

 

He looked down at her, at her small head resting on his shoulder, at her beautiful features glowing in the light of the fires from outside, and asked himself what he could do to make her see what he saw in her.

 

"That's not true, Bell," Alex whispered. "Beyond all of those terrible things you said you've done, there are also good things, things you did to help people, to help us. Don't tell me you have no salvation," he stopped to kiss her slightly on the forehead, a gentle and soft kiss, a kiss of reassurance. "There's always hope, Bell, even for those who think they are hopeless."

 

And with those last words being said, he got up and left the tent, not giving the nymph the chance to say something else. But even though she told herself those things that Alex had said were just comforting lies, his words would not stop ringing in her head.

 

There's always hope, Bell, even for those who think they are hopeless.

 

***

 

Annabelle Maxwell knew that what she was about to do was not one of her smartest choices. It was, maybe, one of her dumbest. But it was her only shot.

 

So, the day after she had killed Axton, one of the werewolves from her army, Annabelle Maxwell knew she had to prevent things like that from happening again. She hated asking for help, but in this particular case, she had to.

 

When she knew everyone was sleeping safe and sound in their tents, Annabelle grabbed her bag with ingredients and made it to a dark cave deep into the woods. She lit a few candles, put all of the necessary ingredients in a bowl and said the well-known Latin incantation. She knew it by heart, only because she had done this for far too many times. She waited for a few seconds for him to show up. Him. The Demon. And not only a demon, but one of the seven princes of Hell. She could not believe she had summoned a prince of Hell. Again.

 

Just when she thought he wasn't going to show up and was about to gather her things, she heard a voice speak from behind her. She turned around to find the handsome face of the demon's host smirking at her. Demon Beelzebub.

 

 

"You feel like making a deal with the devil, love?"

 

5: Chapter 4 . Bad Blood

 

The demon smirked at Annabelle, waiting patiently to hear what she had to say. Demon Beelzebub. The one she had known for more than ten years, since he had found her in the woods one day, alone, with her clothes ripped, and weeping after the death of her parents.

 

"I'm not here to make a deal," Annabelle eventually told the demon, returning his devilish smile. "I'm here to ask you a favor. As a friend."

 

On earth, he liked to be called Christopher Demarco, even though he didn't spend that much time walking among humans to use his fake name. She had never understood why he had chosen that name, but she had never asked either.

 

Annabelle still didn't know what he was doing that day when he found her, walking around the woods, or why he was even there at all. She just knew he had found her. And for some inexplicable reason, he had helped her, without offering her a deal in exchange for her soul, like demons usually did. No, he had helped her for no reason that Annabelle could think of. She was just a broken, miserable girl when she'd met him. She'd become an orphan over night, forced to run from her home. Annabelle and her parents had lived among hunters, able to pass as human beings, since her mother had also been a nymph and her father, a half-sorcerer. They were as happy as they could be in a world like that. Her father, Archer Maxwell, had pretended to be an invalid in order to avoid the hunting life, so they were just living happily in their home, undisturbed by anyone. Until one day, when the Restitutioners had broken into their homes and took her parents. Not even twenty years later could Annabelle discover how they had found about their true origins. Her mother had been able to tell Annabelle to hide under her bed before the Restitutioners took her and Archer away, and that's how she'd made it out alive. So she ran. Ran until her feet were bleeding, ran until she made it into the woods, and ran so the Restitutioners wouldn't come back for her. Annabelle ran for her life, until she fell on the ground, lying there and waiting for her time of death to come. But she knew she was immortal, and that death wouldn't come that easily. And still, she hoped. She hoped God would have mercy on her soul and take her to Him. Because what point was there to live, when she had no one left? Not her parents, not a single friend. She had stopped aging at 26, but her true age had been 66 when her parents had died. And compared to her mother, who had been 256 before she died, 66 was a young age, and at that age, the urge to kill man was almost incontrollable. There was no way she could have ever made it out there, in the real world, without her mother to instruct her, to teach her how to control herself. So she waited for her Death.

 

But Death did not come. Instead, Christopher had. Maybe demons were attracted to tormented souls. And he had helped her, took her deep into the woods and left her in the care of the Wicked. But he didn't leave her behind forever. He came once in a while to see her, to teach her how to gain control, to just keep an eye on her. She had always wondered why he wanted to help her so much, since he refused to give her a concrete answer. He had once told her that her soul, her aura, was a mixture between dark and blue and red. Dark for the wickedness that all monsters had, blue for the sadness and loss and red for the thirst for revenge and passion. And demons fed on those things, on grief and brokenness and revenge. Maybe he enjoyed being around her for those things only.

 

Step by step, Christopher had helped her gain the title of leader of the Wicked, and that was one of the many, many things Annabelle owed to him. For what he had one, she would be forever grateful. But demons were demons after all. They weren't creatures to normally show kindness, even though they had once been angels. That's why things between Annabelle and Christopher hadn't always been a bed of roses or a life of ease. They fought like a cat and a mouse. They had threatened to kill each other for more times than any of them could count. If Annabelle had listened to all of Christopher's advices, she would have killed anyone who even dared to blink wrong at her. A part of the darkness of her soul was there because of him, but she also owed him her life, and many other things, that's why getting rid of him wasn't an option. For now, he could still help her

 

"As a friend," Christopher repeated her words skeptically. And even though she would never admit it to him, Christopher's host's British accent was music to her ears. "It's been a while since you referred to me as your friend. Last time I checked, love, things between us were not very cordial."

 

That much was true. The last time they'd seen each other was a year ago, and she remembered that they had gotten into a fight because Christopher had tried to make deals with some of her own people. And she was not going to let her own kind sell their souls to a demon, especially when they were lessening. And for a year after their blood-spattered fight, they hadn't spoken to each other. But now she needed his help.

 

"Regardless of that, I need your help," Annabelle told him, trying to put her temper on a tight leash for at least a couple of minutes. "I'm willing to put our dispute behind if you're willing to help me."

 

Christopher chuckled lightly under his breath. "And what do I win out of that?"

 

Crap, she should have seen that question coming.

 

"Isn't peace between us enough?" she said assertively, cursing herself for not giving this whole situation a second thought. But desperate times called for desperate measures.

 

"To be honest, love," Christopher said in a voice as low as the sea, moving a little closer till they were only inches apart. He took a strand of her long hair and played with it for a few seconds before continuing. "It would be a lie to say I didn't miss you."

 

Annabelle sighed through her nose.

 

He drove her mad. Not in the romantic, poem material kind of way. No, he literally drove her mad. For ten years, although she was thankful for what he had done for her, Annabelle had hated his guts at times. He was the embodiment of immorality, incapable of love. He was a demon and he only brought destruction wherever he went. But on the other hand… Annabelle didn't quite know how to put it, but when she was with him, she didn't feel like apologizing for what she was, for the darkness she had been born with. She was a monster, a wicked one, and she had slaughtered more people than she could count. And she would not hide herself from him like she usually had to with other people, not when they were so much alike. Besides, it would be a lie to say she hadn't missed him, too.

 

Annabelle didn't dare move as they stood like that, with him close enough to feel her scent and with the air fully electrified between them, until Christopher finally took a step back.

 

"What is it that you need, little nymph?"

 

She bit back her retort and gulped before finally speaking. "My people have been feeling rather disobedient lately. A little incident happened last night and I do not wish to repeat it."

 

"Let me guess," Christopher interrupted her, walking a circle around her and leaning to whisper in her ear. "You have a list of names with people you want me to kill. And you know I'll do it gladly, I thought you'd never asked."

 

"No," Annabelle snapped quickly at him, making Christopher's eyebrows jerk up in surprise

 

"Ah, there you go, ruining my fun again," Christopher kept on mocking her, like this was all just a game to him.

 

"If I wanted to shed some blood, I would do it myself. That's not what I'm asking you."

 

"Look at you, already snapping at me. I would mind the tone if I were you, love. After all, you are asking me a favor here."

 

She also had to resist the urge to roll her eyes and snap his neck just so he could shut up for a few minutes

 

"I need you to keep an eye on them, see what they're planning to do next or if they're even planning anything at all."

 

"So you're saying you want me to spy on them and tell you if they're planning to betray you or not." he summed it up for her.

 

She nodded slightly at him. "I'll be gone for a few days, as usual, and knowing what they're up to would be an advantage. So can you do this for me?"

 

"You must trust me a great deal to ask that from me."

 

Annabelle simply shrugged. "Or maybe I just ran out of alternatives."

 

"Fair enough, I'll help you." he smirked in the same devilish way at her, but the nymph only turned on her heels and left with no other reply, and braced herself for another walk outside the woods.

 

***
 

Sebastian Hendricks heard someone knock on his door and with a sigh he got up from his armchair beside the fire place and opened it. Only to come face to face with none other than Kira Atkinson.

 

He didn't have time to even mutter a greeting or demand why she was there, before the huntress slipped past him and entered the house.

 

"Please, do come in!" Sebastian said sarcastically, heaving a sigh before closing the door and turning to face his new trainer, whose gaze traveled around the room, expecting every corner and every possible exit, her hunter instincts already kicking in. Gods above, what was wrong with this woman? Why couldn't she just let him be?

 

"I thought you said I have five days to recover before we start training," Sebastian remarked. "There've only been four days."

 

Kira finally casted a look in his direction and shrugged casually. "I changed my mind."

 

"But –" he tried again, but she snapped abruptly at him.

 

"I said I changed my mind and we're gonna start training now. In case you have forgotten, I have a short amount of time to coach you for this test. And considering you couldn't even pass your first test, I have no idea how you can think you will be able to get out alive from the second one without my help."

 

Sebastian was too tired to ask her again why she was being so eager to help him, so he just kept his mouth shut. Didn't she have anything better to do or get on someone else's nerves? He just wished to stay home for a few more days, to curl up under a blanket and forget about everything that'd happened. He would not be able to walk around in the city without people pointing fingers at him or calling his things such as 'traitor'. And above all of those things, he still had to face his father. God, he was 21 years old and still afraid of his father. He was a prestigious hunter, with a reputation, and he was most likely to beat his son to death for daring to do such a calamity. It didn't matter; he would handle it. Eventually. For now, he had a nerve-wracking lady kraken to deal with.

 

With a roll of his eyes, he dropped the blanket thrown over his shoulders, observing that he wore no shirt underneath only when the huntress' green eyes lingered a fraction of a second longer on his bare chest, barely noticeable.

 

She cleared her throat before speaking. "So, shall we?"

 

"Can I at least get dressed?" Sebastian retorted, and it was now Kira's turn to roll her eyes. Without waiting for a reply, the young male hunter turned on his heels and went in another room to grab his tunic and cloak.

 

His wounds still hurt, and even though he'd gone to a healer and now he had stitches all over his back, it didn't keep him from wincing in pain at every rapid movement. And whatever that Lady Kraken had in mind for their first session, he prayed the Gods he would get through today.

 

Sebastian didn't know what he expected, but it was certainly not what he found. He thought that maybe Kira would take him to the hunters' training fields considering that it was where he and his father had practiced before. But instead, the huntress took him near the exit of the town, right at the edge of the 'Wicked Woods', as many liked to call it. His heart skipped a beat at the thought of him entering that forest, even if it was with Kira. Sebastian had heard the stories, he knew what creatures walked around in that forest and that not many were reckless enough to venture in there. Apart from Kira, no hunter had entered those woods alone and made it out alive. To be honest, it was a miracle that she had even made it out the first time, let alone any other time. One day, he would have to ask her how she could kill so many all by herself and what exactly lurked in those woods.

 

He thanked all the Gods he could think of when they stopped a few meters away from the fence that separated the Wicked Woods from the rest of the town.

 

"Why did you bring me here?"

 

Kira took a few seconds to answer that, considering she was too busy putting on a pair of black gloves.

 

"First of all, you ask too many questions. And second of all, you'll thank me later for not having this first lesson somewhere in public, trust me."

 

He would have asked what that was supposed to mean, but he stopped himself right on time, remembering that if he started asking too many questions again, it would only piss her off and he would still not get any answers. For that reason, Sebastian only shrugged and waited to see what his new trainer had in mind for his first lesson. He expected her to start instructing him on how to kill a werewolf or a vampire or anything like that, but instead, after the huntress had finished putting her gloves on, she punched him square in the nose. Sebastian stumbled on his feet, but didn't lose his balance completely, and cried in pain, letting a swear word escape his lips.

 

"What the hell was that for?" he demanded angrily, wiping at his bloody nose. Damn, she had him good considering she had sent blood spurting everywhere with only one blow.

 

"Lesson number one, always be prepared." she said flatly, cracking her knuckles.

 

"What does that have to do with –" but before he could finish his sentence, she struck again, and this time, he did try to block the hit, grabbing her arm, but he didn't consider that she still had one free hand, that she used to throw another punch in his face again. This time, she did knock him off his feet.

 

"What did you expect?" Sebastian heard her say, sensing the smile in the tone of her voice. "Kira Atkinson wasn't about to go gentle."

 

Holy Gods, she was way stronger than he had thought. It might have been because the wounds on his back still hurt and he was not at his full strength, but he was overpowered.

 

"Fight back," Kira spat, kicking his stomach with her left boot before he could stagger on his feet. "What are you going to do if your opponent overpowers you? Are you going to just stand there, bathing in your own filthy blood and take all the blows without fighting back?" He saw her foot swing forward and hit him in the stomach again. "No, you have to outsmart your adversary, "Another hit, and another growl of pain. "You. Fight. Back!" With every blow, Sebastian felt the wounds on his back hurt more and more. She yanked his head back, forcing him to look her in the eyes as she spoke, growing more furious with every word. "If they beat you, you fight. Even if you know it's a lost cause and that you can't win. If you're attacked from everywhere, with infinite forces stronger than yours you get up. If you're lost, you fight, no matter what."

 

She finally stopped hitting him and let go of her tight grip on him. And just when the huntress took a step back, taking off her now bloodied gloves, Sebastian got up and tried to lunch for her. But, of course, she anticipated his move, since he lacked the element of surprise, and right when he was about to try to connect his fist with her jaw, she grabbed his hand and twisted it, squeezing hard enough to break a few bones. His whimper of pain ringed across the open field.

 

Kira grinned down at him, watching the trickle of blood leaking from his nose down his neck and onto his tunic with nothing but boredom in her eyes. "Sorry to break it to you, kid, but you're not gonna make it out of that test alive."

 

But Sebastian kept her gaze, a fire burning in his turquoise eyes. "I'd rather die than live in a world like this. I'd rather die than kill hundreds at the command of a cruel bastard that calls himself king in this hell-realm. You think you are being forged into warriors, when in fact, you are just murderers. Assassins," he spat the last two words, not taking his eyes off the huntress for even a second or stopping to catch his breath. "Maybe you're the real monsters, after all. And for that, I pity you."

 

There. He's said the things he had wanted to spat out since forever. He had never dared to speak his mind, fearing that if he'd said what he truly thought, then he would indeed be a dead man. If he had said it when he had faced the King, then we would have been long gone from this world. Sebastian expected Kira to punch him again, but she just stared at him for a few more seconds with the same unreadable face expression before letting go of her grip on his collar and hand.

 

"Save the pity for yourself." she replied eventually, as calm as ever, turning on her heels and leaving him there.

 

As her silhouette faded in the distance, Sebastian thought to himself that if she hadn't already give up on him, then training with Kira Atkinson would prove to be a living hell.

 

***

 

Annabelle heard the whistle of a song ringing in the night air before she could smell the blood. She landed on the ground, metamorphosing back into her human shape and looked around. Only to see one of the most sinister things she had ever seen in her entire life.

 

Her heart had never beaten faster.

 

There, spread on the ground, laid 10 dead bodies. The bodies of her people. She recognized their faces. She knew them all. Kayla, Jackson, Malia, Harmony, and six more other people. Some had their intestines cut out, some just had their hearts ripped out or their heads removed from their bodies.

 

Ten people. Ten of her own kind.

 

Ten

 

Ten dead bodies

 

Dead. They were all dead.

 

Witches, wizards, vampires, werewolves. Dead.

 

She was still frozen in place, still unable to believe what lay right before her eyes. This couldn't be happening.

 

Her shock was soon replaced with anger as she saw none other than Christopher Demarco, demon Beelzebub, leaning casually on a tree and whistling, whipping the blood from his hands with his shirt. His spine-chilling whistle stopped when he finally saw her.

 

"Oh good, you're back," he said cheerfully, his baleful smile sending chills down Annabelle's spine. "What's with the long face, love? I've done what you asked me to. I kept an eye on your people, and apparently, you had a few traitorous 'friends' among them." Well said. Had.

 

Seeing as Annabelle still stood frozen in place, Christopher's smile faded and he took a few steps forward, almost walking over the dead bodies to reach her.

 

"Do you understand why I had to do this, love?" he spoke softly, dropping both of his hands on her shoulders and titling his head to one side. God, there was blood everywhere. On his clothes, his face, his hands, and now on her shoulders. "They were planning to attack you, I heard them say it myself. They spoke so dreadful of you, and I had to get rid of them. And at least your dear Alexander is still alive, hiding somewhere around here with the others."

 

She still didn't dare speak. She still looked at the dead bodies. Ten. Ten of her people, killed mercifully. By a demon that she herself had summoned.

 

"Say something, little nymph." Christopher tried again.

 

She finally got out of that haze and looked the demon right in the eyes as she grabbed his head between her small hands and snapped his neck.

 

6: Chapter 5 . I'm Meaner Than My Demons

 

Christopher eventually woke up. Bit by bit, he cracked his eyelids opened and slowly became aware of the pain coming from his neck. Someone had snapped his neck. But who? And where was he? And then, it all came back to him.

 

Annabelle. He had killed some of her people. And she had snapped his neck. Of course, that wouldn't kill him since he was, after all, immortal, and she knew it, but it would leave him unconscious for a little while. And a little while was exactly what she needed.

 

Looking around, Christopher found himself in a cold, dark dungeon, the only light in the room coming from the moonlight entering through a small window. The dungeon was something right out of the medieval period, constructed of stone and adorned with manacles and chains. Unfortunately, he didn't recognize the place. He tried to move his arms, and hearing the rattle of the chains, he realized that his hands were chained to the ceiling. He laughed a little to himself, expecting something more coming from Annabelle rather than just a few chains to keep him tied. He could use his demon powers to snap out of those cuffs immediately. But as he tried to and didn't succeed, only then did he see the pentagram drawn on the cuffs. And then it hit him. She had used demonic handcuffs that could bind any supernatural being, especially demons, and make them powerless. Smart, Christopher had to admit. But he expected nothing else coming from her. He could try yanking those chains all he wanted, but it would get him nowhere. He was trapped.

 

He felt her scent before she could enter the small dungeon. Demons could smell other people's emotions, even see their auras, and for Annabelle, her aura and emotions were to be recognized everywhere. She smelled like bloodlust right now, and rage, mostly because of what he'd done, Christopher assumed, but he could still feel the same old emotions on her. Sadness. A terrible, uncontrollable sadness. And she'd been drowning in her own grief, ever since the night he'd met her. The night he'd met her. It was something that would remain so vivid in his memory, even after he'd spent an infinite amount of lifetimes on this earth, times in which all of his reminiscences were sinister and twisted. And as he drowned in the smell of her emotions, the memories of that night came back to him.

 

Christopher had felt the desperate cry of her soul from a mile away. It was impossible not to, since all he had done in his immortal life was to reach out to fraught souls and trick them. He thought that he could trick that crying girl into making a deal. But as he came closer, as her aura revealed before his eyes, blue and black, he felt something else. An immense amount of power. Not physical, of course, but more spiritually. Strength radiated out of her whole being, and he considered himself lucky enough to have found her before someone else could have. Because he could use that power, all for himself, for his selfish reasons. That kind of spiritual power was rare, especially coming from a person with the burden of so much grief. She was clearly in a vulnerable place, which was even better. Therefore, he had to act on it.

 

At a slow pace, he approached her, and the girl wasn't even aware of his presence until he spoke.

 

"Are you here for a walk in the woods, love, or do you just have a dead wish?" he spoke softly, gazing down at her with the most meticulous look he could pull off. He had to catch her in his web first. Slowly, the girl lifted her eyes and looked at him for a few brief moments without saying a thing, before breaking the stare.

 

"What's the matter, love?" Christopher tried again to get her to speak, using a more teasing tone. "Big bad wolf got your tongue?"

 

"If I wished to live," the girl spoke eventually, staring blankly ahead and letting another tear slip from her haunted eyes. "Do you think I would still be standing here?"

 

"What is the cause of this endless pain, may I ask, to make you want to die?"

 

She gave him a sad smile, still seeming to look at something beyond his understanding.

 

"Considering the world we live in, do you really need an answer for your question?"

 

He let a low chuckle escape his lips, and slowly sat down next to her on the ground. "I suppose that's only fair. Then tell me, love, is there anything I can do to spare you of such suffering?"

 

It was the girl's turn to chuckle, only more joylessly. "Am I supposed to open my heart to a stranger from the Wicked Woods?"

 

"That's up to you. But I am offering my help nonetheless." he replied, lacking the patience to charm his way into getting her to accept his help.

 

"And why should I trust you?" she questioned.

 

"Oh no, little nymph, by all means, don't! Never trust anyone."

 

The girl finally looked sideways at him, a curious expression on her face. "How did you know?" she whispered, looking entirely helpless.

 

Christopher kept her gaze, letting a genuine grin tug at the corners of his lips. "Such beauty is too rare for a simple human being."

 

He wiped the next tear that escaped her eyes. Eventually, step by step, he convinced her to accept his help. She must have been desperate, and only the thought that she couldn't die made her come with him. And Christopher told her about the camps of the other supernaturals, others like her, that could help her. So he led her into one of those camps, and left her there. He didn't need the other wicked ones to know there was a demon among them, that's why he took off immediately. Secrecy was essential in his case. But two weeks later, he came back for her, and three weeks after that, he returned, and then again and again until he eventually got her to trust him. At least a little. And somehow, the little nymph had gotten under his skin, too.

 

"Well, well, look who's awake," Annabelle's harsh voice snapped him out of his musing. Standing there like that, with the most wicked smile on her face and bathing in the moonlight, she looked so beautifully evil. Whatever she planned on doing to him, Christopher was sure that she was gonna enjoy every minute of it. He tried yanking on those chains again, hoping that at least he'd splinter them from the ceiling.

 

The nymph clicked her tongue. "You're underestimating me, Christopher. Even if you could break those chains, you still have the devil trap to get rid of."

 

Too preoccupied with those chains, he hadn't noticed the devil trap painted on his ceiling, meant to immobilize him in place.

 

He laughed with little humor. "You took some real precautions, love. You must be really afraid of me to go through so much effort just to keep me in place."

 

Her smirk grew wider. "I do have to keep you in place. Only so I can do this." And before he knew it, she took out a bottle of water from the bag on her shoulders and splashed him with it. He roared in pain, feeling the stir of burning on his bare chest. Holy water.

 

But soon enough, his cry turned into laughter. "You think this is gonna work on me?" he growled at her. "This is not the first time I'm being tortured."

 

Annabelle only shrugged innocently. "Then you won't mind if I do this," she spilled the whole water on him, making his cries grow louder. "What's the matter, Christopher?" she mocked. "I thought you could take my dreary, plain torture."

 

He yanked on those chains with more fervor as a response, roaring again in pain as she splashed another bottle of holy water on him. Smoke came out of his skin and red marks appeared on his face and body. She finally turned her back on him and took a knife out of her boot and a bag of salt from the sack, humming quietly to a song. He'd been right, she really was enjoying every minute of it.

 

"Remember when you taught me how to torture without killing the person? Do you remember how you thought me?"

 

Even with the burning sensation still lingering on his skin and with his chest still bleeding, he gave a low chuckle. "Please, enlighten me. How?" He did remember it all too well, it'd happened only four years ago. He just wanted to torment her.

 

"You kidnapped Alex," she spoke, no trace of pain audible in her voice. "And you tied him to a tree, put a knife in my hand and made me torture him. You said that if I didn't torture him, you'd kill him."

 

"That does ring a bell," he said. "It seems I taught you well."

 

Annabelle chuckled knowingly. "Oh, you're about to see just how well." And with no other exchange of words, she drove the knife right through his stomach. Another cry of pain from him and a pleased grin from her.

 

"You think you can keep me here forever?" Christopher snarled at her as soon as the pain was gone and the knife was pulled out. "You know that later or sooner I'll find my way out of here. And then I'll come after your people again, and hunt them to their end-"

 

"And then what, Christopher? Annabelle cut him off, growing angrier and taking a step ahead till she was standing only a few inches away from him, pressing the knife to his throat. "What will you do after you would have my people killed? You'll come after me? Kill me, too?"

 

"You know I'd never hurt you," It was his turn to interrupt her, yelling. "And you took advantage of that since the very first day."

 

A moment of silence slipped between them, and Annabelle was the first one to snap out of it. "I wish I could say the same," she said, pressing the knife harder. "But you killed my people. And that makes you my worst enemy."

 

"Should I not kill the people that stand in your way?" he said, trying to tone down his anger and not make too sudden movements so the knife pressing on his throat wouldn't cut in his flesh. "Am I not supposed to gut those self-serving pricks that are ungrateful for what you've done for them? Must I not react with violence when they threaten to unseat you?"

 

But she didn't deign a response to his questions. Instead, she said, "The night we met, I was just sitting there, waiting for my time of death to come, even though I knew it was impossible. And to be honest, I wish death would have come instead of you," she grabbed of fist of his blonde hair and yanked his head back, bringing her face closer to his and looking him dead in his gray eyes. "You'll wish for your end to come, too, Christopher. Because it will be a far more better fate than what I got in mind for you."

 

***

 

Christopher couldn't remember how much time had passed before his wounds finally started to heal. He just knew that it lasted more than it should have. Whatever knife Annabelle had used to slice him up, it was not a regular one. It must have been hexed or spell-bound by a witch. And she tortured him for hours with it, till night turned into day and the sun shone through the window. She had cut off his eyeballs, his finger, mutilated his face, and waited till the cuts and gashes had healed, only to start over again. After all, the demon had taught her everything he knew about torture. And even though he had it coming, that didn't mean he wouldn't seek vengeance after getting out of that pit hole. He had had enough time to think his escape through.

 

But instead, he couldn't stop thinking about Annabelle. The way she'd tortured him, with no mercy or compassion in her green eyes, only proved that he had created a monster. Whatever flicker of hope had been in her eyes at first was now gone, and Christopher was not entirely sure he liked that. The night he'd met her, he knew for sure that he only wanted to get rid of that hope and make her focus on her potential. But now, after ten years, he doubted himself. She had been so innocent at first, a soul tripped out of the dream machinery, and had only gotten under his skin, even though he'd never admit it. He cared for her, more than he should have, more than he wanted to. She was his only weakness, his only virtue. He had killed those people for her, to protect her, and he would kill thousands more if they were a threat. But she hated him with so much fervor, and she had a damn good reason to. Christopher remembered the exact moment when he could read that hatred in her eyes. It'd happened five years ago.

 

His visits had become rarer. Partially because he was a demon, prince of hell even, and was in charge of all the deals the others made, of all the souls that entered his kingdom of fire and despair. But also because, lately, he was afraid of the effect Annabelle had started to have on him. She made him feel less depraved than he actually was and because of that he tried to avoid the nymph as much as he could. But still, he had to come and help her train from time to time.

 

After seven months without seeing Annabelle, Christopher had to pay his nymph another visit. He found her somewhere in a meadow in the woods, training all by herself with a fight stick. Even though she saw the demon approach, she didn't put down her stick and kept on fighting with the air.

 

"How nice of you to finally make an appearance." she said sarcastically.

 

He grabbed another stick from nearby and joined her, blocking her next hit. "Sounds like I've been missed." he mocked, blocking every move she tried to make with his stick.

 

Annabelle clicked her tongue, shaking her hand disapprovingly. "Such arrogance for someone who's doing nothing but sit on a throne in hell and let others do the jobs for him."

 

"Such vanity for someone who's getting her ass kicked by this so called arrogant." he teased her right back.

 

They continued their ferocious, yet somehow playful fight, and Christopher had to admit that her skills had indeed improved since the last time he'd seen her. Impressive. She was still not strong enough to even compete with him, but it was impressive nonetheless.

 

"Seven months is a long time, Christopher," she said more seriously, running a hand over her sweaty forehead before engaging in the fight again. "What is keeping you away from me?"

 

It was a good thing that demons were the masters of lies; otherwise he couldn't have lied to her then. "Hell's been pretty hectic lately. Now that people know about the demons' existence, some are in fact eager to make more deals."

 

She launched herself at him in a quick movement, and she would have probably gotten him good and hit his face, had he not parried the hit in time. And if he hadn't stood his ground well enough, they would have both fallen to the ground.

 

"Well, save some time for me, too, will you?" she grinned at him, now standing so awfully close to him, with their breaths meeting halfway. She eventually became aware of the little space between them, separated only by their sticks, but didn't back away. She actually did the exact opposite, and leaned in. And how Christopher wished to do the exact same thing, to close the gap between them. He had felt lust, felt hunger for other humans being, but he had not felt this, and he didn't know what to make of it. Weakness, weakness, weakness, that's what his brain repeated on and on and on. Therefore, he did not give in to his desire, and pushed Annabelle away with her stick, almost making her fall on the ground.

 

"Silly girl," Christopher laughed at her confused expression. "Haven't you learnt by now that caring is a weakness? Stay focused on your purpose, Annabelle, or else this Achilles' heel of yours will get you killed. "

 

The nymph didn't reply to his fake mocking and grabbed her stick.

 

"See you in seven months then," she said before turning away and leaving.

 

But he did not see her in seven months. He saw her one year after that, mostly because they were both avoiding each other. He was spending as much time in hell as he could while Annabelle resigned to some old customs. Nymphs usually liked to kill men, especially unfaithful men, charming them and having their ways with them before killing. Annabelle hadn't done that in years, not since her parents had died and she had learnt to control the bloodlust. But rumor had it, Christopher heard, that she had started walking outside the woods, in the human world. And left a trail of bodies behind. She asked men to follow her bliss, to listen to their lust and give in. And most men fell prey to her charms, to their own misfortune. She was a goddess in fights and trainings, and lust and art by nightfall. Apparently, she was responsible and precocious enough to not get caught. Soon enough, she formed her own army and became leader of the Wicked. As soon as he heard that, Christopher went to congratulate her, but she acted as coldly and frigidly as she could.

 

And that was when Christopher saw how much she had actually grown to hate him. But instead of fixing things or let her be, he made it worse. He threatened her, she threatened back, he made her torture her best friend, they emerged in a ferocious fight that almost got Christopher exorcised and sent back to hell. And so it went on and on and on. For a demon, a creature of chaos, he had a lot of regrets.

 

He looked up at the ceiling, clenched his teeth and yanked on those chains for one last time.

 

Two hours later, when Annabelle came back for another round of torture and screams, she found the dungeon empty and Christopher gone.

 

7: Chapter 6 . Ready Or Not, Here I Come

 

An icy breeze kissed Sebastian's cheek, causing a shiver to run down his spine. He felt the cold gnaw at his bones and drew his brown cloak tighter around him, rubbing his hands together for more warmth. He looked around and saw nothing but snow and naked trees. The bleak grey clouds overhead reflected perfectly his grey mood inside. Those short days, those long nights, the dampness that crept into his weary bones and made them ache for summer again. He looked around one more time. Where was Kira?

 

A week ago, she had sent word to him to come to the same place where they had been the last time, and Sebastian was finally able to make peace with the fact that she would not leave him alone and insist on continuing their training. Whatever her reasons were, Sebastian no longer cared, he just wanted to let time slip by and make the next six months pass more quickly, so he could deal with whatever confrontation the King would plan for him. It was of little importance whether he would make it out dead or alive.

 

He scanned the horizon one more time and finally saw the imposing figure of Kira Atkinson approaching him, her face hidden under a red cloak, as usual.

 

"You're late." Sebastian acknowledged, not bothering to hide the irritation from his tone.

 

"No, you're just early." she razzed him, with the same serious look on her face. She could tell a joke and threaten to gut him with the same neutral and cold expression, Sebastian remarked. Was that what being a hunter meant? To dedicate the rest of your life to killing and doing whatever an old man on a throne told you to, living a solitary life and carrying the burden of so many deaths, without even as much as allowing yourself a smile from time to time? No wonder he didn't give a rat's ass about his life anymore.

 

Sebastian would have pointed out that she'd told him to meet her here at 7 o'clock in the morning, and now it was 8 o'clock, but he knew that arguing would get him nowhere, so he kept his mouth shut. Something was a little off about her, Sebastian remarked. She seemed to be crankier than usual and she had let a week pass without showing up at his house or forcing him to come to practice. But he didn't feel like paying too much attention to it, since she was a hunter after all, with duties to fulfill, and training a clumsy hunter wanna-be was probably not on her list of priorities. Thus, he decided to stay focus on his task and get through another session with Kira.

 

"Take off your cloak and start running." Kira ordered, making Sebastian arch an eyebrow at her words.

 

"W-what?" he stammered, hoping he'd heard wrong.

 

"You heard me. Start running. Two miles."

 

"But…there's ice on the ground."

 

"So?" she prompted.

 

"I could slip and break a leg or an arm or even worse."

 

Kira only shrugged indifferently, sitting down on a rock and taking a book out of her cloak.

 

"So you are just going to sit here and watch me run two miles, possibly endangering my life and to risk getting hypothermia, while you'll just read?

 

Kira sighed, putting her book aside to look at him. "Yes, yes I am. And now that you pissed me off even more, you have 15 minutes to run those miles, and if you don't make it back in time, I'll make you run another three more miles."

 

For a few seconds, he could only blink in surprise and stare at her wordlessly, hoping she might change her mind and tell him it was just a joke. But Kira didn't even raise her eyes from the book as she said, "14 minutes. I'd start running if I were you."

 

So, with a dramatic sigh, he stripped out of his cloak and tunic and set a steady pace. He ran around the fence that separated the woods from the rest of the city, picking up a faster pace and already feeling his heart boom in his chest after only three minutes of running. It wasn't the physical effort that made it difficult, but trying not to slip on ice was the real deal. Occasionally, his foot would slip a little bit, but not enough to make him fall. The injuries from that whip still hurt like hell, but he would not let that lady Kraken see how truly exhausted and dog-tired he was. He still had some pride left. Ten minutes later, he almost made it back to Kira, who was still reading from her book.

 

"I made it. I –" but he didn't get to finish his next sentence before he hit the ground like a bag of potatoes because of the slippery snow. Great, he thought, there went his pride.

 

Hearing the loud thump, Kira put her book down and found a very humiliated Sebastian struggling to get up from the ground, but slipping on the ice and losing his balance again. At that picture, she couldn't help but crack a smile. She got up from her place and rushed to his side, helping him get up.

 

"At least you didn't break your neck." she said, trying hard to hide her laughter and putting a hand over her mouth to cover her smile.

 

But he only glared at her. "It's not funny," he mumbled grumpily, shaking the snow off his shoulder. "I told you it was slippery."

 

"Yes, but you still didn't make it in time. So, come on, princess, give me another 3 miles."

 

"What?" he shrieked. "You've got to be kidding me. I'm pretty sure I sprained my ankle."

 

She gave him that nonchalant shrug again, "Tough shit. Run three more miles and then you can go home."

 

He didn't argue further, since a plan was already forming in his head. It wasn't the most brilliant idea he'd ever had, but he would take his chances. Therefore, he started jogging again, and when he was out of Kira's range, he changed the route and took the way back home instead, ditching the huntress. He didn't care about the aftermath of his actions, he only wanted to go back to his house, take care of that sprained ankle and eventually drown himself in whiskey. But he knew that, surely enough, Kira was going to make him pay for it afterwards.

 

***
 

"So, let's rewind," Alexander said again, making Annabelle roll her eyes playfully at him. They were both sitting in Alexander's tent, catching up on the past few days, and she had just finished telling him about Christopher.

 

"You summoned him," he spoke carefully, as if to ask for confirmation, and she nodded. "And in less than 24 hours, he killed 10 people, you snapped his neck, then tortured him, then planned on killing him, but when you came back he was gone. Did I get it right?" Another half-hearted nod from Annabelle, and a sigh from Alex. "Man, this is fucked up."

 

"Tell me about it," she agreed, snatching the bottle of whiskey from his hands and taking a big gulp. At times like this, she hated that she couldn't get drunk. "And as if I didn't already have a handful of problems, it seems like my own kind are turning their backs on me."

 

"I wish I could disagree," Alex heaved a sigh, running a hand through his messy and curly brown hair. "But you have to start acting, Bell, and you have to do it now. People are getting impatient, and you cannot kill everyone who stands in your way."

 

"I know. That's why I'm planning a meeting tonight. Tell them all to be there."

 

"And what are you going to do about Christopher?" Alex inquired.

 

The thought of him made her stomach turn. "I don't know," she admitted. "It's been a week since he escaped and he hadn't made his move. I've known him for ten years and if I've learnt anything, it's that he will not wait around if he seeks vengeance. I can only hope that if he is indeed to unleash his fury, he will unleash it on me, not on you."

 

He sat in uncharacteristic silence for a couple of moments, yet Annabelle had come to understand his silences as he understood hers. He wanted to ask her something.

 

"Just spill the beans, Alex." she prompted him, even though she had already anticipated his question.

 

His inquiring auburn eyes bored into hers. "Why didn't you kill him when you had the chance?"

 

She could have gotten away with it so easily. She could have said that she wanted to make him suffer, to make him feel true pain and see the torment and betrayal in his eyes as she made him scream in pain. But that was not the reason she had not killed, nor exorcized him. "I couldn't," she murmured back, closing her eyes for a second. "I wish I could bring myself to, but it's not that simple. Even if I had all the weapons that could kill him laid before me, I would always lack the means."

 

"It's not the means that you lack, Annabelle, it's the will." Alex told her harshly. "You can't possibly still have feelings for him. He is a demon, Bell, a monster. He made you torture me, for Heaven's sake."

 

"I am not defending him, Alex," Annabelle snapped back. "But I've got blood on my hands, too. We all do. As much of a monster as he is, or as much of a threat, I cannot throw the first rock when I am not without sin, either."

 

Maybe a monster was no longer a monster when you loved it.

 

Alex ran a hand through his hair again and loosed a breath. "You know best, Bell. But I hope that this tendency of yours, to see the good even when it isn't there, won't get you killed."

 

"He wouldn't hurt me." Annabelle found herself saying. For some reason, she had believed Christopher when he'd said that.

 

"I wish I could say the same for us." Alex laughed with little humor, and when he saw the nymph biting her lower lip and the concern growing on her face, he put an arm over her shoulder. "Don't worry, Bell, we'll get through this. We always do."

 

"What would I do without you, Alexander Baldon?" she smiled at him, resting her head on his shoulder.

 

"Crash and burn." he joked and laughter shook the shape of her body.

 

After five minutes of comfortable silence and occasional shared jokes, they eventually had to snap out of it.

 

"Now," Annabelle said, getting out of Alex's tent and looking over her shoulder at her best friend. "Let's get this party started, shall we?"

 

***
 

 

Annabelle withdrew her gun from inside her waistband and fired a few shots in the air to get the crowd's attention. Two hundred people, give or take, were now staring at her, some with curiosity, some with fear and some with nothing but fury burning in their animalistic eyes.

 

"Now that I have your attention," she trailed off, her voice booming across the forest, louder than a thunder. "We can go back to business." she swallowed, bracing herself for the speech she had to give. "I understand your rage and your blame, it's very well justified. But it's misplaced," she paused, letting her words sink in. "I was not the one to kill ten of our people. As much as I loathe traitors and conspirators, I would never start killing so many of you for it. It's true that I killed Axton, but only because he had acted without my consent. Now, the culprit of this terrible act is a demon named Beelzebub, also known as Christopher DeMarco on earth." The murmurs and whispers started again, and Annabelle hurried to continue. "There is no need for you to worry since I've already taken care of it." It may have been a lie, but the nymph couldn't afford having them panicked or blaming her again. She would have said something else, had it not been for the sound of a laughter echoing in the crowd. She looked at the source of that mirth and said, "Did my words amuse you, Emmett?"

 

Emmett Clarke was the typical vampire troublemaker. Attention seeking, outspoken, both fearless and careless and a one-upmanship digger. He had put himself in danger more times than Annabelle could count, and she had gotten him out of it every single time. Even when he had stole all the blood bags that she had brought for the vampires and drank them all by himself in just one night, or when he had made it out of the woods and had sucked the blood of a few citizens and compelled information out of them. A part of her liked that wildness of his, mostly because she had unruliness in her, too, and if you'd put all that recklessness aside, he would have made an excellent leader.

 

Emmett blew another smoke of his cigarette before speaking. "How convenient that the only ten people who conspired against you are now dead, isn't it?" he spoke with no accusation in his tone, but with amusement.

 

Annabelle didn't even as much as blink at his remark. "I doubt they were the only ones conspiring against me. Need I remind you that you were the ones to choose me as your leader?" she let her voice grow louder with every word. "Need I remind you that we must fight against our common enemy, the King and his army, not against each other?"

 

"Then why are we not fighting against the King?" she heard a voice from the crowd say, unable to identify it.

 

"Yes, Annabelle, why aren't we?" Emmett agreed, narrowing his blue eyes at the nymph.

 

"If you could stop your protests and hear me out for a couple of seconds then I could clear that out for you." Annabelle silenced their objections. "You are right. We have waited around for far too long and watched as many of us have been slaughtered by those so called soldiers. I have not become your leader because I wanted to hold you on a tight leash. I've become your leader because I want to lead you to our victory, because I want to see us rise and their Kingdom crumble to dust. I want to paint their castle red. And I want you to stand by my side as I do so." Two hundred people watched her, and now, none of them dared to move. "Brace yourselves, darlings," A wolfish grin crossed their leader's beautiful features as she spoke the finale, culminate words. "We're going to war."
 

8: Chapter 7 . I'll Be Home For Christmas

 

Sebastian had braced himself for a blind rage. He was sure that Kira was going to make him pay for ditching her at the fence, and he was ready to have a few punches thrown at him. But none of that happened, to his complete and utter surprise. He met her at the same place, near the fence, and just like the last time, she was late. He expected her to scold him right away, but instead, he was a little taken aback when he saw that Kira Atkinson was wearing the biggest smile plastered on her face. Now that was a first.

 

“Someone’s in a good mood,” he acknowledged, not sure if she was in a good mood because she was going to ruin his day or because of something else.

 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she grinned at him, surprising the young hunter even more. “Christmas is coming.”

 

Christmas. He had completely forgotten about it. For Sebastian, Christmas was no cause of joy. It meant he had to stay in the same room with his father and his brothers for at least three hours and pretend they were a picture-perfect family for the sake of his mother and little sister. But every year, they failed. As much as he tried to ignore his father’s remarks or his brothers’ mean mocking, he couldn’t. And every Christmas meal ended with a fight, with Eva, Sebastian’s little sister, hiding in her room, and his mother crying into her pillow at night. Before he had moved out of his parents’ house, every day had been like a Christmas meal to them. Sebastian didn’t even want to think about what his father was going to say when he’d tell him that he had six months to train and pass his test, or else the King would sentence him to death.

 

“Judging from the look on your face, I take it you’re no fan of holidays.” Kira remarked, taking off her cloak.

 

“And you are?” Sebastian questioned skeptically.

 

She shrugged, like that was already an understatement. “I’ve always been.”

 

That was odd. The woman who had beaten him up, snapped and yelled at him, made him run 2 miles in 15 minutes, was a jolly holly. Sebastian waited in case Kira was going to elaborate more about how Christmas was a celebration of joy and happiness, and all the things he had already heard before, but instead, she remained silent and casually stripped out of her cloak and vest, tying her raven hair in a messy ponytail.

 

“Come on, let’s go,” Kira prompted him, clasping her palms together, but when she saw the inquiring expression on his face, she sighed, explaining, “If I start running with you, maybe you’ll stop complaining and not ditch me this time.”

 

Maybe she loved Christmas, but not enough to make her forget about that retail. Not wanting to push his luck, he followed her, also taking off his tunic. They ran side by side in a heavy silence, and Sebastian had to bite his lip against his snickering when he saw Kira so focused. She kept her gaze straight ahead, not even once glancing in his direction, and slowly picked up a faster pace while Sebastian’s heart was already speeding and his breath growing more and more erratic. But he’d be damned if he stopped to catch his breath before she –

 

Sebastian’s train of thought was broken when he hit the ground hard, with a loud thump. Only this time, it wasn’t because of the slippery ice. He fell because Kira had tripped him.

 

“Come on, keep up!” she told him cheerfully, running in place.

 

“What the hell was that?” he spat angrily, getting up from the ground.

 

“What was what?” Kira returned the question innocently.

 

“You tripped me. Why did you trip me?”

 

But instead of answering, the huntress kept jogging and beckoned for him to follow, without looking back. With a sigh and a mental observation about where she could stick that jogging of hers, he ran after his trainer. Another few minutes passed, when none of them spoke, but kept on moving, and they had almost run two miles already when he fell face first into the ground again, because of Kira.

 

“You seriously have to pull yourself together, comrade, the ground is not that slippery.” she said sarcastically, trying hard to hide her grin.

 

“You tripped me again.” he yelled exasperated, trying to get up without falling again.

 

“No, I didn’t,” she simply stated. “Come on, another mile. And try not to slip this time.”

 

Sebastian groaned, biting back the colorful words that he wanted so badly to spill out, and made sure to keep a decent distance between the two of them this time. They ran the mile with no other incident, and just when they had reached their initial point, Kira bumped his shoulder hard enough to make him fall into a pile of snow. And this time, when he fell again face first into the snow, she couldn’t hold back her laughter anymore.

 

“So I suppose this is payback for ditching you yesterday,” he sighed, getting up shaking the snow off his clothes and brown hair.

 

“Be thankful. The last person who ditched me is not alive to tell the story anymore,” she said, smiling bitterly and he laughed humorlessly, hoping that was indeed only a joke. “Now, come on, Hendricks, give me two more miles, all by yourself.”

 

For what seemed to be the hundredth time, Sebastian sighed and bit back his retort, which he seemed to be doing a lot around her, and started running. The full half of the glass was that his wounds didn’t hurt as much as before, and jogging was an easy task compared to what his father had made him do during their practices, but the empty half was that now his feet and back hurt from the trips. Maybe the test, the real challenge, was to just train with Kira Atkinson.

 

Silence was not at all comforting to Sebastian. Because silence meant thoughts popping into his head, thoughts that he had no control over. And the only thing he could think of right now was his family. If he told his father about the whipping and the test, then Sebastian was sure he would never want to hear from his ‘prodigal’ son again. And that meant he would never hear from his mother again, either. Sebastian’s Christmas seemed to be anything but merry, apparently.

 

He finally ran those two miles and returned to his initial point, only to find his clothes lying on the snow, but with no sign of Kira. He looked around and, in spite of himself, chuckled slightly. It seemed like it was now the huntress’s turn to ditch him.

 

***
 

“Santa’s here,” Annabelle’s voice boomed across the forest, announcing her arrival. Everyone’s heads turned to look at their leader, only to find her with a Christmas hat on her head, a bag slung over her shoulder and with a blithe smile curving her lips.

 

Kids ran out of their parents’ arms to her, cheering and smiling from ear to ear, and that was the exact moment Annabelle knew she had made the right decision to come here for Christmas.

 

“Now, kids, I’d suggest you calm yourselves if you really want those gifts.” Annabelle teased them, making her way out of the crowd of the mini-wicked ones and coming to sit down on a stump next to the fire. The children followed her right away, making a circle around their leader, and Annabelle was just about to get the little presents she had managed to steal from the humans’ shops out of the bag, when she heard her best friend’s voice, making his way through the crowd.

 

“Get out of my way, you dorky creatures. My gift is more important.”

 

The children starting booing him, but the sorcerer ignored them all and sat down crossed-legged in front of his best friend.

 

“Did you bring my gift?” Alex asked childishly, giving Annabelle his best innocent smile, who just rolled her eyes at him and reached for a small bag of oranges. Getting those oranges from a store was the easiest gift, but Annabelle knew that that was the only thing Alex wanted for Christmas.

 

“I’ll never understand why you like oranges so much.” Annabelle said, handing him the small bag.

 

“And you’ll never know.” he replied, already starting to peel one. With another roll of her eyes, Annabelle just let him stick to his oranges while she handed the little gifts to the children. They were nothing pretentious or pompous, just a couple of toys that she had managed to steal or buy from a few stores. But there were too many children to please, and not enough toys. After she had finished and almost emptied the bag, she explained as best as she could to some children why they should share their toys with the others, too, and made her way out of the crowd. Along with those gifts, she had also brought more extra blankets and food supplies for the others. It was sad how what was perceived as necessities in the human world was considered luxury to them. But Annabelle promised herself that all of this would change soon. They would no longer have to sleep under the stars in the summertime or freeze in their tents in the winter. They would no longer have to starve themselves, to have people die from starvation. Annabelle promised herself that she would make the humans pay, make the King pay, for everything they had done to her people.

 

“Annabelle,” a male’s voice called out her name, and she looked over her shoulder to see Emmett, also standing on a stump, with the ever-present cigarette between his lips. “How nice of you to join us,” She didn’t deign a response, and he took that as a sign to continue. “I never took you for the kind of person who likes holidays. For all I can remember, you never spent one single Christmas with us since you’ve been having those long 'walks’ outside the woods.”

 

It seemed like the Christmas spirit wasn’t going to soften Emmett the slightest bit.

 

“I can’t say I’ve missed your unnecessary remarks, Emmet.” the nymph retorted, making the vampire’s smirk grow wider. “But seeing as it’s Christmas, and I’m feeling rather generous today, I brought you a little something.”

 

Emmett’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and Annabelle threw him a blood bag.

 

“0 negative,” he remarked with a smile, catching the bag. “My favorite.”

 

“Just try to stay out of trouble, Clarke.” The nymph told him, heading to leave the blankets and food to Miscah, the half-fairy that was in charge of all the supplies and made sure they were all shared equally.

 

“No promises, Maxwell.” Emmett called after her, making a smile tug at the corners of Annabelle’s lips, in spite of herself.

 

An hour later, after she had settled everything with Miscah, Annabelle returned to the fire and sat down next to Alex and a couple of other sorcerers and vampires, who were telling stories and tales to the kids. She came right in time to hear a question addressed to one of the oldest vampire, Simian Blackwood, who was 435 years old.

 

“Has Santa ever been real?” a little girl asked, and nor the eldest or anyone else knew how to reply. Therefore, Annabelle answered for them.

 

“Legend has it he’d been a sorcerer.”

 

Actually, Annabelle knew that for sure since her source was a secure one. Christopher used to tell her stories of people he’d met or heard about, and one day, he’d told her the story of how he’d met Santa Claus.

 

“An old friend of mine assured me of it,” the nymph continued, already getting the kids’ attention. “He told me he had even met him. His actual name was Nicholas and some legends say that his parents died when he was just a teenager and left him loads of money, making him rich over night. But that’s not true. He was as poor as a church mouse, but as kind-hearted as an angel. That’s why he used his magic to create all sorts of gifts for kids, and to make them appear in their homes over night.”

 

“Why isn’t he making gifts anymore?” another kid from the crowd that had gathered around to hear her story asked.

 

“He may have been a wizard, but he was not immortal, unfortunately,” Annabelle smiled sadly. “But after his death, people proclaimed him a saint and told storied about him, until the stories became legends and the legends became myths.”

 

An overwhelming silence settled in, making the elders’ nostalgia grow. Gone were the times when they could celebrate holidays like that in a proper way. Now that the hunters and the first King, King Allymius had refused to associate Christmas with Santa Claus since, at he had said in many of his speeches, Santa Claus was associated with magic, and whatever meant magic had to be banished. Now, on Christmas, the parents didn’t tell their children that Santa was bringing them gifts anymore, and most of them were not even aware of the story of Santa Claus. Now, Christmas was a truly cheerless celebration.

 

Soon enough, they shook the sadness off for the sake of the children and told stories after stories of dragons and battles and festivals, to which the kids’ eyes were sparkling with curiosity and content.

 

And Annabelle felt it again. Felt that sensation, the new awareness that was starting to built up in her, and she didn’t know what to make of it. She had never felt it before. But looking around, looking at all those people and children, gathered around a fire to tell stories and laugh like their lives weren’t about to be at stake in only a matter of weeks, she stopped envying the humans. Because now, she knew for sure, without a doubt, that she belonged with them, with her people. She was home. And she understood what that strange sensation was.

 

It was hope.

9: Chapter 8 . Bury Your Flames

 

A disgrace.

 

That's what he was.

 

Infamy.

 

That's what his father thought him to be.

 

Insurgent.

 

That's what everyone thought him to be.

 

And they had the right to. He had stayed locked up in his small cottage house for far too long, had isolated himself, and now when he had set foot outside, reality hit him hard.

 

Hated. That's what he was. Hated by his father, his family and judged by the entire population of Iskar. Maybe the entire population of Allymea, considering how fast word spread.

 

He knew people would talk. He knew his father would give him hell for 'disgracing' his family name. But why did it have such an impact on him when he had to face all that judgment?

 

It is needless to say that since that Christmas dinner with his family, Sebastian's life had gone from bad to worse.

 

Sebastian wished now more than ever to have someone to talk to. He wanted so desperately to articulate his exasperation, to have someone to understand his frustration towards his father. How could he have thrown him out of his house? But he had no one. Whatever attempt at friendship he had made before, was now gone thanks to his current reputation. How could someone even think about talking to him when he was perceived as an unlawful walking freely among them?

 

Therefore, because of his complete and utter solitude, he focused on something else. On his training with Kira. He stopped complaining every time she made him run mile after mile, stopped ditching her and brought himself to exhaustion. Oddly enough, two weeks had passed since they had started their training, and all he did was run. He had no idea how jogging around for hours was going to help him, but he didn't ask, either. Not that he would've had the chance, since he now ran all by himself, while Kira sat idly by, reading. They barely spoke to each other, only when she told him to run one more mile. There were days when she would send word to him that she couldn't come, but that he still had to stick to his running practice. Not that it made any difference if she were there or not.

 

After their last training session before Christmas, when she had ditched him, Sebastian thought maybe there was a small chance, a tiny bit of hope, that they could get along after all. Not in a bonding kind of way, but in a tolerate kind, at least. That, maybe, the neutral mask of hers could melt with time and that she could tell him the real reason of why she was training him.

 

A fool's hope.

 

Kira had gone back to not talking to him, and after the incident with his family he didn't feel like talking, either. And they both stuck to their thoughts and let the words blur. For a while, at least.

 

One day, after he ran until his feet couldn't function anymore, Sebastian was just about to head back home with no other exchange of words between him and Kira, when she stopped him, speaking.

 

"Meet me here tonight. At eight." she said matter-of-factly.

 

"What for?" Sebastian questioned, narrowing his eyes. "Please tell me it's not for more running. I still don't understand what –"

 

"No," she cut him off harshly. "Tonight, at eight. Don't be late."

 

Said the one who's always late, Sebastian thought.

 

"Isn't it a little too late?"

 

She sighed, but explained even so. "In case you have forgotten, I am not supposed to train you. That's why we meet here and not in plain sight, where one of the King's guards might notice us and report it to the King."

 

Oh. He had indeed forgotten about that. Too exhausted to even care anymore, Sebastian didn't ask any other questions that he knew Kira wouldn't answer to, and parted ways with his trainer. Only to come back a few hours later, at the same place. And meeting up with Kira Atkinson twice a day was not a pleasure. But he couldn't deny that he was a little curious about what else she might make him do, besides running. Curious, and slightly anxious.

 

But both of his curiosity and apprehension faded quickly as she saw the huntress waiting for him, with two fight sticks in her hand. Well, Sebastian thought, he might not get his ass kicked after all. Again.

 

As soon as he came near her, she threw one of the sticks at him, and he caught it with one of his hands with ease. If there was a thing he was good at, it was stick-fighting.

 

"As fun as this is going to be, I doubt any creature I might face at that test would use a fight stick." he said with a smile, only to have Kira return his grin.

 

"It's cute that you actually think that this is going to be fun."

 

Before he even had the chance to reply, she made her first move, swinging her stick through the air. Sebastian may not have been as fast as her, but he was quick to block the first kick with his stick.

 

"I should warn you, I'm pretty good at this." Sebastian smiled in a devious manner, to which Kira actually let a soft 'aw' escape her lips.

 

He took a step back and immediately stormed towards her, but without success since Kira dodged his move, before whacking his stick into his belly and causing him to groan in pain, and she would have taken another swipe if he hadn't been fast enough to anticipate and block it.

 

"Not bad," Kira stated, and then whispered, but still loud enough for him to hear, "For a wuss."

 

But Sebastian was quick to prove her wrong and attacked again, surprising even himself when he got a blow past her defense and hit her leg, hard enough for her to cringe a little.

 

"See? Fun." he said proudly, and then went into fight position again, before saying with a smile, "Bring it on."

 

With a battle cry and a wolfish smirk, Kira launched at him with no hesitation and fought for real this time, without holding back. Of course, since her pride was at stake.

 

On and on they went, attacking and ducking and blocking and hitting, until no one could've said who was losing and who was winning. Kira was indeed a force of nature, swift, but still graceful in all of her moves, but Sebastian struck back. It was indeed hard to keep up with her, since she moved like the flames of an inferno, but he had trained with his older brothers for years, and they usually used fight sticks as weapons. He was skilled, too.

 

Minutes passed, when none of them showed any sign of tiredness, when Kira spoke.

 

"You're usually such an earful. Why so quiet?"

 

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm a little busy right now." Sebastian said sarcastically, blocking yet another move.

 

"In a fight, your opponent will try to distract you, mostly by talking, but you still have to keep your head in the game, no matter what."

 

That was a lesson that nor his father or brothers had taught him. Usually, they hadn't talked at all during their training. He tried his best to ignore her, but there she was, finally asking him something about himself, and because he couldn't resist the urge, he found himself saying "Do you believe that things will go back to how they were if I pass the test?"

 

Kira sighed loudly, blocking his next move easily. He was already getting distracted, she thought.

 

"I never should've asked, should I?" she muttered under her breath, but he ignored her.

 

"Maybe not entirely the same, since the situation with my father is already compromised, but maybe with the others. Will they stop looking at me like I am the biggest traitorous bastard?"

 

She sighed again, not really knowing what to answer to that. Why was he even telling her those things? She had only asked why he was so quiet, and only because she'd wanted to distract him, not because she wanted to know the answer. And now, he was distracting her. Why would she even care if he had problems in his rainbow and unicorns world? He would eat a flower or something and everything would be okay again.

 

"And as if that was not enough, now my father forbade me to come back home," Sebastian continued. "After, of course, he told me how much of a disgrace I am."

 

Was he for real? It was as if she had unleashed a monster.

 

"I can't believe that not killing is actually perceived as a crime."

 

She tried to ignored him, but couldn't. It was getting harder for Kira to block his hits, but he seemed to have no such difficulty and fought back almost effortlessly while speaking. She had to admit, that was impressive. Without her even realizing, he put his whole weight into the next blow and actually managed to knock Kira off her feet, to both of their complete surprise.

 

Sebastian's soft laugh ringed across the open field, making Kira even more enraged.

 

"I was right," he said, still chuckling. "This really was fun."

 

That bastard. He had been distracting her, and she actually listened to his family drama. Hastily, she got up and grabbed her stick again, fast enough that she had time to hit Sebastian hard across his face with it.

 

"Son of a- " he cried in pain, grabbing his face.

 

There. She felt better now.

 

"Remember what I told you, comrade," Kira said, amused. "Never let your guard down."

 

Considering how toughly she'd kicked him, she was sure that was going to leave a mark. And that made her feel even better. Without knowing what came over her, she extended her hand to help him get back on his feet, but he refused it, out of vanity, of course, and got up himself. She couldn't blame him. That was probably something she would've done, too.

 

"I think that's enough training for today," Kira declared, grabbing both of their stick from the ground and whipping the sweat from her forehead. She had to admit, this whole fight with him had been pretty concentrated. "Go home, princess."

 

She was just about to turn around and walk away, with no other exchange of words, but then decided against it.

 

"For what's worth," she told him as softly as she could, while still keeping her expression neutral, and surprised both of them by saying, "Your father sounds like a douche."

 

Sebastian looked at her for a couple of seconds, opening and closing his mouth a few times, but still unable to come up with something to say after that. Not that he could have, since as soon as the words left her mouth, Kira turned on her heels and walked away, leaving him there, to watch as her figure faded in the distance.

 

For Kira, that was the closest she could come to showing a tiny bit of sympathy. But it was exactly what Sebastian needed right then. To know that, maybe, not everyone hated him after all.

 

 

***

 

"I don't understand."

 

That was the first reaction. And a few murmurs of agreement followed after that.

 

Annabelle sighed through her nose, exasperated and tired of explaining her plan over and over again. The nymph didn't understand what they didn't understand. It was a good plan. A brilliant one, actually. It was smooth and simple, yet surely efficient and well-organized.

 

"What exactly don't you understand?" she said indolently, loosening another breath.

 

"I think what they mean, Bell," Alex stepped up and spoke for them all, knowing that he could explain it better to his best friend than the others. "Is that you should explain it more unambiguously."

 

"What is so beyond your understanding, more precisely?" she raised her tone a little, growing impatient.

 

"Why don't we just go to war directly?" one of the fairies, Isla, asked. "Why complicate ourselves in that way, with numerous attacks?"

 

"They deserve far worse than that." Annabelle spat. "If we go to war directly, we'll just end them too quickly. Yet, if we do as I told you to, we can make them suffer slowly. After our first attack, which will be paradise compared to the hell that we'll unleash later, they will live in constant panic, wondering what we'll do next. They'll fear us. And when the time comes, we'll strike our final blow. And I assure you, it will lead us to our victory."

 

She spoke so confidently, so boldly, that she didn't know how they could still question her.

 

"How can we win if they are thousands and we are hundreds?" Angela, a fresh witch, daughter of Amelia, said, to which Annabelle gave a harsh laugh.

 

"I can't believe you right now. Look at you!" she yelled exasperatedly, her hand gestures becoming more and more erratic. "I finally tell you I'm ready to go to battle with you, and now you act like you don't want to fight. You look pathetic and scared. Do I have to remind you who, what we are? They call us monsters, wicked, and they have all the rights to. We are ferocious and violent and cruel. We. Don't. Back. Down." she paused, turning her head to look at one of the oldest vampires, Simian, and continued. "Simian, how many people have you killed in the night of 25 April 1999, when you traveled on that boat to London?"

 

"The entire damn crew," Simian said with an arrogant smile. "Sixty five bastards."

 

"Amelia," Annabelle called again, making all of the heads turn in the witch's direction. "How many hexes have you learnt to cast?"

 

Another wicked smile came with the response. "145. And I'm still learning."

 

"And the list goes on. Each and every one of us is powerful. We're the impious. We're the powerful ones, not them. I will not stand by and watch you hide in shadows and mist," their leader paused again, letting another heavy seconds of silence pass by before continuing. "The question is: are you with me, or not?"

 

They were.

 

***

 

They plotted each and every one of their moves.

 

The fairies handled the manufacture of their weapons.

 

The sorcerers channeled all of their magic to create necklaces or rings or any accessory of some sort that would provide every fighter a magic shield of protection.

 

The vampire and the werewolves would be the main and primary soldiers. Sure, fairies and sorcerers would fight, too, but vampires and werewolves were the most dominant. They focused on their strength.

 

As for Annabelle, she did what a leader does. She handled the planning and the development. She was the choreographer.

 

But still, it seemed like there weren't enough soldiers, like her plan was not as well settled and designed as she hoped it would be. She needed something more brilliant, a much more twisted mind to work its magic and make her idea catch a better shape. And she knew exactly where to find it.

 

Thus, one day, she went to Alex, brought Emmett and the witch Amelia along, and told them what they needed.

 

"We need the Mad Hatter."

 

10: Chapter 9 . Knock Down These Walls

 

"Are you insane?"

 

She probably was.

 

"There's no other solution, Alex," Annabelle replied. "All of you agreed with me when I said that our plan needs more adjustments, and I've spent days and nights trying to think of ways to improve it, to come up with the last puzzle piece. But I haven't. We need him."

 

Alex ran a hand through his messy hair and clenched his jaw. "You don't understand what you're getting yourself into."

 

"I have to agree with Poodlehead on this one," Emmett butted in, crossing his arms over his chest and casually leaning on a tree, as if it wasn't a matter of war here. "The Mad Hatter is…well, mad. Too mad, even for us."

 

Annabelle had to resist the urge to roll her eyes at those two weaklings.

 

''I know very well who the Mad Hatter is." she snapped impatiently, already considering going there all by herself. "Everyone knows who he is."

 

The Mad Hatter. They knew who he was, but not what he was. He was living in the darkest part of the woods, where not even Annabelle dared to venture. In that part of the forest lived the creatures that were left with no trace of humanity in them, no trace of compassion of any sorts, not even for their own kind. Those creatures belonged to the night and shadows. It was odd how there could indeed be something more wicked than the Wicked.

 

Sometimes, Annabelle wondered what really lurked in that part of the woods, but she did not have a death wish, therefore her curiosity had faded with time. Even Christopher, prince of the underworld, warned her to never go there.

 

He liked to call himself the Mad Hatter, but no one knew his real name. He had been in the Wicked Woods for as long as everyone could remember, and he lived in complete isolation. He was also called 'the bombardier', due to his 'hobby' of bombarding and blowing up everything that stood in his way. Well, that had been before, before the discovering of the monsters. Stories were told about him, terrifying stories, of how he had bombarded the castle once, back in 2055, and had killed 105 people, including the former King, the grandfather of King Gabryell. After that, he was arrested, but stayed in prison for only two days before escaping. Then he'd decided to hide in the Wicked Woods, and had been hiding there for as long as anyone could remember. No one bothered him, fearing for their lives, and he didn't bother them. No one was crazy enough to approach him. No one, but Annabelle.

 

But, according to the stories, his work was flawless and unusual, and that's exactly what she wanted and needed.

 

"He's our only shot," Annabelle continued, sticking to her guns. "You can agree with me or not, but I'm still going."

 

She turned on her heels, ready to go to the Mad Hatter's place all by herself if she had to, when she heard Alex, Emmett and Amelia sigh almost in unison, and soon enough, they followed her.

 

It took them almost the entire day to get to the small and timeworn cottage, and they flinched every time they heard as much of the rustle of a leaf, which was silly considering that all four of them were some of the most powerful creatures to have ever existed. Emmett was as old as the monarchy in Allymea, Alexander and Amelia were of a power to be feared, and Annabelle had nothing to be afraid of since there wasn't anything that could kill her. But they were still scared, mostly because they had no idea what might come and attack them from the shadows.

 

They eventually arrived by nightfall, which only made it more terrifying. It was just a decrepit, dark cabin, sitting deep in a dark hollow with grey, creaking trees crowded up against the crumbling walls, but a strange feeling of fear crept over them.

 

"Should we…knock?" Amelia asked hesitantly, to which both the vampire and the sorcerer shrugged. Only the nymph had the courage to take a step forward.

 

Nothing to be afraid of, Annabelle told herself. You've faced worse. He's just a man. Just a man. Act like he's the one who should be afraid.

 

But he was not just a man. He was the one everyone was afraid of. He was the Mad Hatter.

 

She would've opened the door herself, but before she even had the chance to lay a hand on the doorknob, it opened itself slowly, with a creak. They looked at each other, startled, as if it was all a scene from an old, crappy old horror movie, but still reluctant to take another step forward.

 

"Come on in, don't be shy," a disembodied and grating voice told them, making the whole picture look even more eerie.

 

This time, Alex was the first one to step up, putting a hand on Annabelle's shoulder and pushing her behind him instinctively in a protective gesture, to which she could only roll her eyes. She could handle this. So, she shrugged her best friend's hand off and entered the house, already scanning the whole place for any possible weapons she could use in case anything went wrong, and for any possible exits. But the only thing she saw was a bed in the middle of the room, a small table displaced in a corner and a closet locked with a padlock. No weapons.

 

And on the bed, reading a book sat the Mad Hatter. And his sinister smile made chills run down Annabelle's spine.

 

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" his shrill voice was even more spine-chilling.

 

He obviously loved to pretend he was a character taken straight from 'Alice in Wonderland'. And he made an odd sight in his white gloves, stiff suit and silk top hat. At least he didn't have red hair and a monocle, Annabelle thought. His physical looks were rather normal, actually. Ginger hair, blue, yet devilish eyes and he was young enough to pass for 25 or 26 years. Whatever he was, he was definitely not human.

 

He put down his book, which Annabelle recognized as 'Alice in Wonderland', of course, and got up from his bed abruptly.

 

"Let me guess," he said cheerfully, his smile being the most sinister thing Annabelle had even seen in her entire 78 years of living, and pointed with a finger at Emmett. "Vampire," then at Alex. "Wizard," then at Amelia. "Witch," but when he finally looked at Annabelle, he paused for a few seconds and narrowed his navy eyes at the nymph, only to widen them in a matter of seconds, and clap his hands together.

 

"Oh my, my," he whispered, taking another two footsteps forward, until he was standing closer than she would've liked him to. "But you are exquisite."

 

He took another step closer, cocking his head to one side and studying the nymph more carefully.

 

"You look just like a doll." he beamed, reaching for her face, and that's when Annabelle couldn't take it anymore and stepped back, but the Mad Hatter seemed to take no offense in that.

 

"Oh, but where are my manners? May I offer you some tea?" he asked in a honeyed voice, still holding Annabelle's gaze, and hers only, pointing at the tea cups from the miniature table. "Oh, don't be so uptight," he said when he saw that they were still not moving an inch. "What's the matter, dear? Don't you care for tea?"

 

It was as if the other people in the room didn't even exist. Only Annabelle.

 

"We don't have time for this nonsense," Emmett spoke for the first time since they had gotten here, gaining a harsh look from the Mad Hatter.

 

"Mind your head," the Hatter said harshly, then fixed his attention back on the nymph. "I was talking to my Alice."

 

Alice?

 

The man was entirely bonkers. Not only did he speak only in quotes from Alice in Wonderland, which Annabelle knew because it had been one of the stories her mother used to read to her, but now he thought she was a character from that book, too. But to get something out of him, she could play along.

 

"I think what my companion is trying to say, Mr. Hatter, is that our and your time is very precious, and we do not wish to waste it. We come here in need for help."

 

"Time…" he whispered absent-mindedly, looking at a non-existent watch on his hand. "Nonsense, it's always tea time."

 

With resignation, and knowing there was no other way to talk to him, Annabelle sat down at the table, facing the Hatter, who had already started to pour her a cup of tea.

 

"You must be mad." he told the nymph after a few seconds of heavy silence, without lifting his eyes from the tea cups.

 

"Why is that?"

 

"You must be. Or else, you wouldn't have come here. But don't worry, my Alice. We're all mad here," he said, winking at her as he handed her a tea cup. "But to be honest, it's a wonder you got through my traps."

 

"Traps?" Alex exclaimed, looking around panicked. "What traps?"

 

"My bombs, of course," the Mad Hatter said matter-of-factly. "You wouldn't think I would sit in complete solitude, defenseless."

 

"Of course not," Annabelle agreed, wanting to rush things and reluctantly taking a sip of her tea. "Now, if it's not too much to ask, Mr. Hatter, can we get down to business?"

 

"Oh, I apologize, my dear, I got carried away by your beauty." To that, Annabelle had to pretend to be flattered. "What is it that you need from this old and retired Hatter?"

 

So they told him. They told the Mad Hatter everything they had in mind for their attacks, everything on how they planned to ruin the royal family and his soldiers. Also, they told him what they wanted from him. And at the end, the Mad Hatter burst into laughter.

 

"Finally," he said in between snickers and placed a hand over his heart. "Finally, I can't believe this day has come. The day someone decided to stand up and defeat the Queen of Hearts."

 

Another one of his twisted links with that book. Apparently he thought everyone was a character from Alice in Wonderland. It both terrified and intrigued Annabelle that she was referred to as the main character.

 

"I've tried, my Alice," he continued, his tone changing suddenly from excited to nostalgic. "I've tried so hard to make justice. I am sick of her commanding up and down. 'Off with their heads, off with their heads' she says. But it's her who should be decapitated, not us. What have we done wrong?" All of a sudden, he grabbed her hands in his and spoke more and more hysterical. "She deserves to rot in hell. All of them do. I will help you, my dear. I will help you with whatever you need."

 

Trying hard not to cringe and free her hands from his grip, Annabelle forced a fake, kind smile in his direction. "Thank you."

 

"But," the Mad Hatter added. "I need something in return."

 

Of course he did, Annabelle thought. His ways were mischievous.

 

"What do you want?" she asked carefully, her forced smile fading from her lips.

 

"What I want, what I need," he rubbed his chin as he thought. "Hmm… let's see. I want…" he trailed off, casting a look in the nymph's direction, and she could almost see the idea forming in his head as he smiled viciously at her. "I want your tears."

 

And Alex couldn't take it anymore.

 

"Absolutely not!" he and Amelia chorused, instinctively stepping closer to Annabelle.

 

"Hell no!" Emmett chimed in, too.

 

But she stayed calmed and asked, "What for?"

 

"The power of a tear is magical, my dear. And everyone wants a magical solution for their problem. As do I. But you tears have to be real, my Alice, or else the deal is off."

 

"Annabelle, don't," Amelia spoke, shaking her head. "A tear can be a dangerous weapon in spells. We don't know what he'll use it for."

 

"How do I know it won't be in vain?" Annabelle asked the Mad Hatter, ignoring her friends. "Why should I give you my tears if I don't know yet whether our attacks will prove to be flourishing or not?"

 

He shot her another playful smile, that smile that seemed to say he already knew the end of the story. "There is a place, like no place on earth, a hand full of wonder, mystery and danger. It's Wonderland, my dear. And you are in it. You're the Alice in Wonderland. Haven't you read the book? Don't you know the ending to your own story? You get to go home."

 

Again with the quotes. It seemed like this man talked only in riddles. But even if she didn't know why, Annabelle did the most irrational and unreasonable thing. She decided to trust him.

 

"You got yourself a deal, Mr. Hatter."

 

He started laughing again, that laugh that pierced their ears and sent chills down their spines, and clasped his hand together, before shouting, "Down with the bloody red Queen!"

 

***
 

Sebastian's eyebrows shot up in amusement. He glanced down at the extended sword in Kira's hand, then up at her face again.

 

"From fight sticks to swords. That escalated quickly." he stated, still smiling.

 

"Are you going to stand there all day or fight like a man?" Kira mocked him, wiggling the sword in her hand. Eventually, he took it with no restraints and stepped closer to the huntress.

 

"I'm better with swords than I am with sticks, you know," Sebastian teased her right back, though still speaking the truth. He was pretty confident in this area.

 

Kira scoffed. "Oh, please. You said that the last time, and now you have a black eye."

 

"You just caught me off guard. I had you on the ground."

 

"Keep telling yourself that, comrade."

 

"Fine," Sebastian grinned again. "I have no other choice than to prove you wrong."

 

"By all means, do." Kira replied.

 

Now this was Sebastian's chance. The huntress clearly underestimated him, and she obviously had every right to, since he'd acted like a complete wuss, a softy, but that had been mostly because of his wounds, and also because his head had not been in the game. But now he was settled on proving Kira wrong, showing her what those years of training had done for him. And if she chose to fight him, then so be it.

 

He stared at the blade for a moment, deep in thought about –

 

- striking at her, which he did, without warning, driving his sword forward.

 

She easily knocked it aside. "If that's the best you can do, this will be a sadly easy defeat."

 

"I've already knocked you off your feet once. I can do it again."

 

Then it was her turn to launch at him, but he deflected his attack fast enough. They swung their blades for a few solid minutes, blocking and attacking again and again, both of them too caught up in the fight to speak.

 

"What's the key to winning a sword fight?" Kira asked him out of the blue, evidently a tricky question, meant to test him.

 

"Situational awareness." Sebastian answered confidently, still trying to not get distracted and watch her every move.

 

"Exactly. Always be aware of your melee scenario. Your mind needs to not only be aware that you need to prepare to fight, but also to quickly take in your surroundings and calculate how to turn the environment to your advantage. If you are taken by surprise, you may be beaten before you had a chance to draw your sword."

 

Finally she was doing some teaching.

 

"Trust your uh-oh gut feeling," Kira went on, stopping her attacks to speak. "If you have a feeling that something is just not right, honor your intuition. It may save your life. Also, awareness of where you are can help access possible disadvantages, and be able to turn the physical environment to your advantage. Dark environments can conceal either you or your opponent. Forcing your opponent to have the sun in his or her eyes may make it much harder to see you. Got it?" Sebastian nodded once, letting her know he understood. "Now," continued, coming to stand behind him and guide his hands and body in the right position. He couldn't help but flinch a little at the sudden touch. "Maintain your sword in a position that runs from the bottom of your torso to the top of your head. This is a middle position, suitable for any skill level that will enable you to respond to an attack with reasonable speed, and also gives you many angles for your own strikes."

 

"I knew that." Sebastian responded, looking at her over his shoulder.

 

"Sure you did," Kira laughed, removing her hands from his elbows. "Then what's another important step?"

 

He sighed, taking a few seconds to think about it. "Make the first strike count." he said, even though it'd come off as more of a question that an answer.

 

"No, you idiot," Kira snapped, smacking the back of his head. "Memorize your enemy's movements. Find his weak points, which hand he uses, everything you can think of. Now, are you ready to try again?"

 

"Ready as I'll ever be." he replied, moving into fight position for a second time.

 

And their swords came to life once again, engaging into an aggressive dance. He thought about everything he told her, how he could use the surroundings to his advantage, but unfortunately, there was nothing to take advantage of. So he moved to the next step: finding Kira's weak point. To distract him, she moved her sword from one hand to another, but to his luck, he noticed she didn't swing as good with her right hand as she did with her left one. This meant he had to strike when she fought with that hand.

 

After a few minutes of blocking her attacks and making her think he wasn't strong enough to fight back, Sebastian caught her swing and, with a twist of his wrist, Kira's sword spun into the air then landed on the ground, two feet away from her. Sebastian stood for a moment with his sword tip to her neck.

 

Shock paralyzed Kira, before she masked it with a forced grin. "Now that's more like it."

 

"I'm sorry, but I think what you mean to say is, 'I apologize for underestimating you'."

 

"Would you have been able to do that if it weren't for my advice?"

 

"True that," he replied, withdrawing his sword from her neck.

 

"That was just beginner's luck, anyway. You still need more practice."

 

Sebastian couldn't help but give a soft laugh. Was it impossible for this woman to admit that he had won, fair and square? Even though it was infuriating, he couldn't help but be a little bit intrigued. Kira couldn't have been older than 25. Who had taught her to fight like that? When did she have time to learn it all?

 

"I'll see you tomorrow, Hendricks." Kira spoke, snapping him back to reality. But instead of going his own way, he followed her.

 

"What are you doing?" Kira questioned him, arching an eyebrow.

 

"I'm just, umm…" he stammered, trying to come up with a good enough explanation. "I'm heading the same way you're walking. I have to go and, um, do something. That way."

 

Sure, that sounded plausible, Sebastian chastised himself. But for some reason, he wanted to talk to her more. She was like a big question mark, a mystery that he wanted to solve so badly. How could he still not know who she really was, or why she was training him? He hated not knowing.

 

"So," he started lamely. "Who taught you how to fight like that?"

 

"That's none of your business, comrade." Kira answered bluntly, without even as much as looking in his direction as she kept on making her way through the snow.

 

"Oh come on, this isn't fair." Sebastian exclaimed. "I got nothing on you. You refuse to tell me why you're training me, or why you keep teaching me anything but how to kill a supernatural being. At least give me something."

 

She stopped walking, turning to face him abruptly. Now he had an uh-oh gut feeling. "The only thing you need to know about me right now is that I hate interrogations, and if you keep on making up half-assed excuses to question me, I will give you another black eye."

 

Sebastian gulped visibly, but still held his ground. When he opened his mouth to say something else, though, Kira pulled up the hood from her cloak and walked away. Only this time, Sebastian didn't walk after her.

 

After some time, he'd gotten used to her threats and hostility. She could keep her word if that's what she wanted and give him another black eye, but he was not going to back down. Not now. It was obvious she had something to hide, and he wanted to know what it was. He had his heart set on knocking down her walls. No matter how high they were built.

 

11: Chapter 10 . Can't You Hear Me Knocking?

 

January 2134.

 

One month and one week.

 

That's how long it had been since Sebastian and Kira had started training.

 

Two weeks since Sebastian had promised himself to get past Kira's defenses and knock down her walls. But she was still as hostile and cold as ever, just as reticent. It seemed like there was no chance for him to get his sought answers too soon. That didn't mean he was going to give up. No, he would just find new ways to proceed. On the bright side, she did not give him another black eye.

 

Kira still made him jog around the fence every morning, five miles each day, and at night, they trained with fight sticks or swords. For two weeks, that's all they'd done. But Sebastian wasn't complaining, since it seemed like there was always something new to learn from Kira and his fight skills with sticks and swords had really improved. She wasn't one of the most famous hunters for nothing. He couldn't understand, though, how all of that training would help him. Wasn't he supposed to learn how to kill monsters with stakes and silver bullets, or anything else? So he asked her that.

 

"Do you think the King will make you kill just a vampire or a werewolf for your test? You heard him yourself; the second test would be more difficult than the initial one. You have to be prepared for everything."

 

And that was the closest thing to an explanation that Kira would offer. Still, better than nothing.

 

No matter how much he tried, Sebastian still couldn't get Kira to open up a little. Therefore, he moved to plan B. Stop asking questions and knock down the walls brick by brick, unhurriedly. After all, he still had five more months to spend with the huntress. And now, after two weeks, without even realizing, he didn't go to his training with Kira with as much reticence as before. No, he was actually quite…willing. If that wasn't improvement, then Sebastian didn't know what was.

 

Another problem was that the huntress didn't always show up at their training sessions, and there were days when he had to practice all by himself. He often wondered what she could be doing in those days, but a voice in his head, that sounded disturbingly a lot like Kira's, reminded him that it was none of his business. But it was hard to stop himself from wondering who she really was when he had nothing better to focus his attention on, but that.

 

Sometimes, he tried to guess things about her. He would make up a story in his head about her, and wonder if he'd gotten it right or not. From time to time, he told the huntress the made up stories only to see her reactions, but mostly, Kira would just shake her head in disapproval and keep that neutral expression plastered on her face to make him think he was not even close. Still, Sebastian didn't give up.

 

Until one day.

 

It started off normal. He ran those five miles in the morning, while she sat by and read another book. And when he was done, Sebastian was just about to gather his things and head back home when his trainer called after him.

 

"We're not meeting here tonight."

 

"Are you not coming? Again?" Sebastian inquired, hoping she would not vanish mysteriously once more. He hated training alone.

 

"I am. We're just not going to train here. Meet me at the Field House, same hour."

 

The Field House was the specially arranged building for the hunter's training. It had rooms for any kinds of trainings. Firearm training, sword training, hand to hand combat training, it even had a gym. But the hunters came there for one thing in particular: the Ames room. The Ames room was a distorted room that created optical illusions. It had been invented in the 21 century initially, but with time, the hunters had improved it. Now, they could create virtual images that gave the person who was standing in that room the impression that he or she was somewhere else, in a whole different place. The hunters usually used it to create the illusion of attacks from monsters. That was the place where he and his father had trained the most.

 

"I take it we're done with the jogging and the swords." Sebastian told her, without managing to hide the relief from his voice.

 

"Oh, we're not done with the jogging. We're just advancing with the real teaching. I'll see you tonight."

 

And surely enough, he saw her that night. At the usual hour, he stood outside the Field House, gripping his tunic tighter around himself and waiting for Kira. He wasn't sure whether he was supposed to go there and start looking for her inside or just wait around. After all, they still weren't supposed to be seen together in public. But eventually, Kira showed up and looked around to see if there was anyone who could be eavesdropping. Fortunately, there wasn't.

 

"Follow me. Keep the distance. Act like you don't know me." she whispered slowly, and with no other exchange of words, she went inside. Sebastian waited a few seconds before following the huntress.

 

He listened to her command and maintained a decent distance between them, enough to make it look like he wasn't following her, and finally got his answer about where Kira was taking him when she stopped into the far corner of the main room, next to a metal door. Sebastian had always wondered what was behind that door. Kira hit the button on the wall and the doors slid open. An elevator.

 

Sebastian hurried to walk in with the huntress, still acting like they were mere acquaintances, and she hit the button for the ground door. The door closed and they started moving

 

Sebastian glanced down at Kira, and was just about to ask her what was down there, but stopped himself just in time to see the security camera in the corner. No talking, then.

 

Eventually, the elevator stopped and the doors slid open. He held them open for Kira to pass and they stepped together into a bright and long hallway, with many doors on both the right and the left side.

 

Before he could even ask, Kira answered for him. "They're private training facilities."

 

"Private?" Sebastian inquired. "As in, only for the V.I.H.?"

 

It was Kira's turn to inquire. "V.I.H.?"

 

"Very important hunters." he answered commonly and the huntress couldn't help but huff out a laugh. She finally stopped at the end of one door and took a key out of her cloak to open it.

 

They finally stepped in and Sebastian finally understood what a private training facility was.

 

He had never seen so many machines in his life.

 

Running machines, leg machines, a bench press and racks of dumbbells, in different sizes. There were also bars attached to the ceiling in some place, but Sebastian couldn't imagine what those were for.

 

And every wall was used for something different.

 

A whole wall was covered in guns, loads of them, resting on pegs that kept them in place. They were pristine, gleaming as if they had just been cleaned. There was also a door on that same wall. He wondered what that was for. On another wall were swords, only five of them, but just as immaculate as the guns.

 

The dimensions were enormous. This place was at least twice the size of Sebastian's small house. All of this couldn't have been for only one person, he thought.

 

"Is this…all for you?" Sebastian asked mesmerized, still looking around.

 

"Most of it, yes." she answered, starting to move around and stripping off her cloak. "But I chose to share it with a friend."

 

Before Sebastian could ask who that friend was, he heard Kira give a sharp whistle and yell something in what seemed to be Russian. And suddenly, a muscular and tall man, full of tattoos in his arms, came out from the other door, the one next to the guns' wall, and the hard lines of his wrinkled face softened at the sight of her.

 

Sebastian didn't even realize what was happening when Kira threw her arms over the man's shoulders and he swiped her off her feet in a tight embrace. The two of them started to talk quickly in Russian after that, and Sebastian was finally grateful that his father had wanted so badly to teach him that language. Because now he could understand everything the two of them were talking. After several minutes of small talk questions, the massive man turned to look at Sebastian.

 

"Who is that little princess over there?" the man asked in Russian, gesturing with his chin at Sebastian, and Kira gave a soft laugh. Great, like she didn't call him a princess enough already.

 

"Sebastian. I told you about him." she answered.

 

"Oh. The wuss."

 

Kira laughed again. "Eh, he's tougher than he looks, actually."

 

For a second, Sebastian thought he'd heard wrong. Was that….a compliment? Coming from Kira? He must've misunderstood. But given that she didn't know he could understand and speak Russian was probably the reason why she'd said it.

 

The man, whose name Sebastian understood was Gavril, ended his conversation with the huntress and stepped forward, extending his hand to the young hunter.

 

"I've heard much about you, Hendricks." Gavril said in his broken English, shaking Sebastian's hand firmly, and the young hunter tried hard not to wince in pain and squeezed the Russian's hand back as tightly as he could.

 

"Only good things, I hope." Sebastian replied, surprising both Gavril and Kira by speaking in Russian. He felt a moment of pleasure as he saw the look of surprise on her face.

 

"Now if you'll excuse us, Gavril," Kira spoke, this time in English, but still held Sebastian's gaze. "We have to get back to our training."

 

"Of course, of course," the Russian said, finally letting go of Sebastian's hand, but not before saying "Firm handshake you got there."

 

But once Gavril turned his back on them and left the room, Sebastian couldn't hold back the wince anymore and shook his hand, trying to dissipate the pain. As soon as he was sure he could use his hand properly again, he turned to look at the hunter, who was moving toward the gun wall.

 

"So," Sebastian began, feeling a smile lifting the corners of his lips. "I'm tougher than I look, huh?"

 

"I have no idea what you're talking about, comrade." Kira answered rigidly, tying her long, raven hair back in a high ponytail.

 

"That's what you told your friend. That I'm tougher than I look."

 

"I said no such thing." she retorted, and with a small chuckle, Sebastian let go of the subject, since she would never admit anything, and turned his back on her to unbutton his cloak, throwing it aside. Only when he turned to face Kira again, she had a gun pointed at him. Sebastian felt his eyebrows shot up in surprise and instinctively, he took a step back.

 

But Kira eventually lowered her handgun and threw it at him. She beckoned for him to follow her next to a shooting target.

 

"Shoot." she simply told him, crossing her arms over her chest and waiting. With a sigh, Sebastian carefully pointed the gun at the target and held the weapon in the firing-ready position. He did a quick recap in his mind, of all the things his father had taught him about guns and shooting, and applied it. After making sure he held the gun right, he stood in the proper firing stance, and shot. Except nothing happened.

 

"It's not loaded." Sebastian remarked, looking at Kira, who had a knowing smirk on her face. He had gotten to know that smile. It was that kind of smile that seemed to say 'you're an idiot'.

 

"First lesson, always check if the gun is loaded."

 

She took the gun from his hand and loaded it herself before pointing at the target and shooting, holding the gun with only one hand and hitting the target dead center, almost effortlessly.

 

"Not my first rodeo, cowboy," she said, grinning again at his gaping expression and handed the gun to him. "Your turn."

 

Except he only hit the target from his second shot.

 

"If you had been smart enough, you would've hit it from your first try." Kira scolded him, coming to stand behind him and grabbing his elbows. "First of all, you're not standing in the right position. Your elbows are too high."

 

Again, just like the last time, he couldn't help but shy away a little at her touch. Those hands had killed people, he reminded himself. Yet, they were so small and delicate, and her touch so soft, that it was impossible to believe that. Only her voice made him snap back to reality.

 

"- aim it sideways or…Have you heard a word I said?" Kira asked him, narrowing her eyes at him. He nodded once to let her know he understood, and tried shooting again. This time, he hit the target from his first try.

 

"Not my first rodeo." Sebastian repeated her previous words, also smirking in the same overconfident way she had.

 

"Learn how to do that with only one hand and then I'll be impressed."

 

But it didn't took him long enough to learn how to do that, just about an hour, and he could shoot just as efficient with one hand. Only Kira didn't let him go after that. Instead of target practice, she resumed to a little game that she liked to call 'name the gun'. She claimed you had to know what gun you were holding in your hand before using it. And yet again, Sebastian didn't fail to impress her. He named every single gun that she pointed at, until there were no weapons left. He disliked the fact that she underestimated him like that, yet liked that he had numerous chances to prove her wrong.

 

After another hour, Kira finally told him he could go home, while she'd stay there for a while and clean her guns. Knowing that this was a chance to talk to her more and get some answers, Sebastian offered to help her.

 

Kira sighed, but didn't refuse his help. She knew all too well that it was time for one of his 'questions and guesses' game. Yet, she couldn't say that his made up stories didn't amuse her. She was eager to hear the crazy things he'd made up in his head that were so far from reality. He didn't fail to amuse her this time, either.

 

"Pirate."

 

Kira couldn't help but roll her eyes at that. "Really? Is that your theory?"

 

"Why not? It would explain a few things. Like your mysterious disappearances. Or why you always head in the sea's direction when you go 'home'."

 

"Hate to break it to you, princess, but pirates are not real."

 

"Of course they are." Sebastian retorted, putting down one of the cleaned guns and looking at Kira from the corner of his eye. She still wore the same flat expression. "You do seem to have the spirit of a leader. Maybe you're the leader of a secret society of pirates."

 

That earned a smile from her. "That's better than the Sheppard's daughter who seeks revenge for the murder of her beloved." she said, and Sebastian huffed out a laugh at that. Yeah, that hadn't been one of his brightest guesses.

 

He stayed silent after that, hoping that she might want to fill the quietness and speak, but she did no such thing and resumed to cleaning her guns, so he had to be the one to speak first again.

 

"If the King didn't make us enroll in his army and become hunters, what would you be doing instead?"

 

He had asked himself that a couple of times before. What if he'd had a choice? What if it wasn't mandatory for him to become a hunter? How would his life look like? What would his freedom taste like?

 

Kira looked taken aback for a second, clearly not having expected that question, before shrugging, just like she always did when he asked her a personal question.

 

"I'd suppose I would become the leader of a secret pirates' society." she responded with a teasing smile. At least this time she didn't tell him it was none of his business.

 

"I'm serious," Sebastian insisted. "What would you do?"

 

His questions were becoming more private, Kira thought. She saw how badly he wanted to figure her out, and, if she had to be honest with herself, a small part of her wanted to be figured out. Yet, she knew it was wrong to want that. He was asking for more than just her thoughts. He wanted that part of her she fought to keep hidden. That part that held foolish hopes and aching memories. And she could not let that part of her come to the surface.

 

When it was clear that she would not answer that question, Sebastian sighed, as he always did when she refused to tell him something, and surprised the hunter by saying, "I'd be a healer."

 

Kira felt her eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but still waited for him to continue.

 

"My brothers always used to hurt themselves when training in the Field House, and since our father didn't let us see a healer right away and forced us to keep on training, wounded as we were, I had to learn how to stitch them up. And I don't know, I suppose I grew to like it."

 

"It suits you." Kira found herself saying instead, and really meant it. A few moments of silence followed after that.

 

"I should get going." Sebastian smiled tentatively at her and put down the last gun. "I'll see you tomorrow."

 

The young hunter turned his back on her and started walking, yet when he reached the elevator, Kira didn't know why she found herself saying, "I would be a singer."

 

Now it was his turn to be surprised. From all the possibilities, he hadn't been expecting that one. Though, he remembered one morning, only a week ago, when he had run those 5 miles faster than usual, and came to the initial spot earlier. But when he reached her, Kira had her back turned to him, putting on her cloak, and without meaning to, Sebastian heard her murmur quietly to a song. It was odd that she hadn't heard him approach, taking into consideration her hunter instincts, but he didn't want to interrupt her, either. Therefore, for a few brief seconds, he stood there, listening to her whispered song. He couldn't make the song's words out, but her voice was like mournful bells crying on the wind, and he couldn't help but want to hear more of it.

 

That had been the first sign, Sebastian would come to realize later. The first sign that she wasn't the cruel, merciless huntress that everyone thought her to be. She was that and more, so much more.

 

As he saw her there, in the training room, avoiding his gaze and pretending to clean an already gleaming gun, he knew he shouldn't tell her about that day when he'd heard her sing. No, he would keep that stolen moment only to himself.

 

The corners of his lips lifted in a genuine smile, looking at her one last time before leaving, and said, "It suits you."

12: Chapter 11 . Something More

 

February 2134

 

Sebastian had never needed a drink so badly before, not like he did right now. He wasn't the alcoholic type, nor the type to spend every night in a bar, drinking himself to sleep, not when he knew what alcohol had done for his father. Yet right now, he needed to shut his brain down and get some rest, and that, only a few shots of whiskey could do. Hell, maybe a whole bottle.

 

The nightmares had started about a week ago. Sebastian didn't know what'd caused them. After all, he knew there was a clock ticking down on him and that he might not make it out alive from that test. But for some inexplicable reason, his nightmares were all about the King's challenge for him. He would dream of the scariest and ugliest monsters coming to get him, to rip his skin out with their filthy teeth. And in each one of his dreams, a pair of red eyes watched him from a corner, while the King sat on a chair and watched the entire 'show'. In those nightmares, Kira was there, too. And every time the beasts tore his skin, she would give the most sorrowful scream. At first, that had been the weirdest part of his dreams. Kira would never care for him with such intensity; she would never mourn his death or weep for him. Of that, Sebastian was certain. But now, he'd gotten used to those miserable nights, when he would wake up with the sound of Kira's scream still ringing in his ears.

 

That's why the best solution that Sebastian could come up with was alcohol. He walked to the nearest and less crowded tavern that he could find, The Black Swan, and talked himself into ignoring all the people that whispered and pointed fingers in his direction, and all the daring ones that called him traitor right to his face. But that proved to be more difficult than he thought it would be. Even though The Black Swan was not one of the most popular bars in Iskar, it was still mingling with drunken hunters. Sebastian looked around, trying to find a free seat, and he couldn't help but hear everyone whispering as he passed by.

 

'He refused to kill'

 

'Monster lover'

 

'Enemy of the Kingdom'

 

'He's better off death'

 

The last one stuck with him the most.

 

Sebastian was just about to give up and walk back home, since it was clear that he was not welcome there, or anywhere else for that matter, when he heard a voice speak from behind him.

 

"Care to join me for a drink, comrade?"

 

His lips tried to suppress a smile his eyes couldn't hide.

 

Sebastian turned around and saw none other than Kira Atkinson, with a glass in her hand and a playful grin plastered on her face. Even if he'd tried, he couldn't have stopped himself from returning her smile and sitting down at her table.

 

"I thought we were not supposed to be seen together." Sebastian reminded her, but still grateful for not having to go back home without his oh so needed drink.

 

In response, Kira only shrugged. "We both have a lousy reputation. What else do we have to lose?"

 

"Since when being a famous female hunter is perceived as a lousy reputation?"

 

"Since misogyny exists and people consider that a woman shouldn't do the job of a man."

 

She had a point.

 

Instead of diminuating, the whispers increased and Sebastian didn't know how he could still ignore it, with or without Kira by his side.

 

"Is there any chance we might take this elsewhere?" he asked her softly, looking warily around, and slowly, a smile spread on Kira's face again.

 

"I might know just the place."

 

She got up in a second, still grinning at him, and headed towards the bartender. Well, that was odd. Sebastian had never seen the huntress smile for that long. Something was definitely up with her. Unless…

 

"Are you drunk?" he questioned as soon as she came back, a bottle of whiskey in her hand.

 

"Oh, please," Kira rolled her eyes. "It takes more than a few shots to get me drunk."

 

But she was definitely tipsy, Sebastian remarked. Otherwise, she wouldn't have spoken to him in the first place, let alone offer to take him out of here. Yet, Sebastian didn't complain and followed the huntress out of The Black Swan.

 

 

Kira led him between trees, over the ridge of a hill, over the silence into sunlight and the noise of a sea breaking on sand and stone. She took him on a hill in a screen of trees, between the unpopulated fields and the incoming sea. Sebastian had never seen something quite so beautiful before.

 

"How come you were in a filthy bar full of drunks and drinking all alone?" Sebastian inquired as they finally sat down on the grass.

 

"I needed to shut my brain down for a little while." Kira said, a tipsy smile mingling on her lips as she took the first sip from that bottle of whiskey. "What about you, princess? What's a girl like you doing in a place like that?"

 

Sebastian chuckled slightly. At least he had gotten used to her mocking now. "Same as you. I just wanted a good night's sleep, and right now, only alcohol can provide that."

 

"Nightmares?" Kira asked carefully, her voice soft this time, and Sebastian only nodded. "Then you need this more than I do." she laughed, handing him the bottle, which he took without hesitation.

 

"What are you dreaming of?" Kira went on.

 

Maybe it wasn't fair. Why should he tell her anything about him, when she was so reluctant about opening up? Why should he, when she had built her walls even higher every time he tried to tear them down? And he could have refused to tell her, only say it was none of her business, but he needed so badly to talk to someone about it. Even if that someone was Kira.

 

"About the King's trial for me," Sebastian replied eventually, gazing blankly ahead as little bits of those dreams came back to him. "I'm sitting in this blue room, and I can see you and the King behind a glass wall, watching me. And these…creatures come right at me, and their eyes are red and full of bloodlust, their teeth sharp as knifes. At the end…" he paused, gulping visibly. "At the end the King is laughing as the creatures rip me to shreds."

 

He didn't tell her about the last part, when she would scream and wake him up from his nightmares. He saw no reason to. It was nothing.

 

"Did you…" Kira trailed off, flashing her green eyes at him, full of curiosity. "Did you really think this through? The test, I mean. Do you really know that your only two alternatives are either killing or being killed?"

 

"I know." he answered bluntly.

 

"Then which one are you willing to do the most?"

 

"I know that I said I would rather die than be one of the King's pawn. But the truth is…" he paused again, the corners of his lips lifting a little. "I don't want to die. The thought of killing someone makes me sick, yes, but I do want to make it out alive of this whole mess. And once it's over, I don't want to waste my time anymore, I don't want to live in vain. If I do get a second chance, I'll make it count. I want to get out of this town, go somewhere peaceful and quite, in a place where killing is still considered a crime. I know there's something more out there waiting for me."

 

"Something more," Kira repeated, gazing off into the distance, at the Great Wall, and for a second, Sebastian saw something in her green eyes, something that looked like…yearning. But before he could truly decipher it, she blinked once and put her mask back on. "You'll survive this," she spoke finally, looking at him again. "I have no doubts."

 

She winked at him, passing the whiskey bottle once again, and, smiling, he took it and felt the alcohol burn down his throat.

 

"I once thought the same as you," Kira confessed. "That I could escape this world, this system."

 

"What changed?"

 

An eternity of seconds passed by and she still didn't answer. Instead, her hand flew to a pendant locket necklace she wore, squeezing it hard until her knuckles turned white.

 

"Hey," Sebastian snapped her out of that trance, putting his hand over hers without even thinking about it. "You can tell me."

 

Kira nodded once before speaking in a barely audible voice. "My parents died. That's what changed."

 

Rumor had it that her parents had lived a peaceful and quite life before they'd died at the hands of a vampire. No one had heard of any Kira Atkinson before, not until she'd showed up at the King's court, one year after her parents had died, with a vampire's head in her hand. She demanded to be enrolled in the King's army and, considering her skills and her ability to make it out of the Wicked Woods alive, the King agreed to it.

 

Kira took off the pendant from her neck and opened it, only to reveal a small piece of paper inside. She unfolded and handed it to Sebastian, who took it and read.

 

You are my once upon a time.

 

"My dad gave it to mom when they'd gotten married. I've never seen a love greater than theirs. They'd never wronged anyone, and they surely didn't deserve to die. But still, they did. So no, Sebastian, I don't want to run away and find my 'something more', not when I still have to kill as many of those monsters as I possibly can and stop them from killing any more innocents."

 

Sebastian didn't know what else he could've said after that, nothing he would say could've made it better. No wonder she hadn't wanted to talk about herself.

 

She blinked once, hardening her expression again and, before he knew it, she'd gotten up ready to leave.

 

"Kira," Sebastian began, and before he could even think or change his mind, he caught her wrist.

 

She didn't turn around. For a few seconds they just stood there, hyperaware of those inches where skin touched. But it didn't last long, because soon enough, Kira snapped them both out of it.

 

"Don't," she said softly, as if knowing that he was thinking about something to say. And she was right, saying something would've been just wrong.

 

Without any other shared looks or exchange of words, Kira turned on her heels and left, leaving Sebastian wondering if he had been wrong about her all this time.

 

***
 

"That's…that's actually a really good plan." Annabelle said slowly, almost as if she couldn't believe it.

 

"Oh, why, Alice, thank you." the Mad Hatter laughed, taking off his top hat and bowing low.

 

After almost a month, he had finally revealed his ostentatious plan for their first attack, and the nymph had to admit, it was better than anything she could've come up with.

 

"What do you think?" Annabelle turned to ask the others, and Alexander and Amelia both nodded in approval at the same time, while Emmett remained quiet, twisting the small cross from his necklace between his fingers. "Emmett?"

 

He lifted his eyes eventually, looking at the Mad Hatter.

 

"I think we need something more than that." Emmett said eventually, running a hand through his blonde hair.

 

"Oh, I was hoping you would say that, dear, because I have a secret weapon up my sleeve." The mad hatter said, and all four of them looked at him expectantly, waiting to hear the rest. The crazy man widened his eyes and whispered the next words. "A dragon."

 

13: Chapter 12 . Between the Raindrops

 

March 2134

 

It began like a whisper in the air. But soon enough, the heavy raindrops hit the ground more heretically. Rain. It was like God's own poetry. Each drop was a single letter in a song that took eons to sing. It had always been music to Kira's ears, even as she walked now in the cold rain, with only her cloak's hood to cover her face. But when the patter of the drops tumbled from the grey sky, the melody brought serenity no matter the chaos in her life. Rain. Blessed rain.

 

Eventually, she arrived at the Field House and hurriedly made her way towards the private training rooms. She was late again, as usual, and she wasn't in the mood for Sebastian's bickering. Kira walked down the bright hallway and stopped right in front of her door, and surely enough, it was unlocked. Maybe she shouldn't have given Sebastian that spare key after all. The huntress cracked the door open and, as expected, he was there. Only her green eyes widened and her jaw dropped slightly at the view in front of her. He was doing pull-ups at one of the metallic bars in a corner. Without his shirt on. Well, she certainly hadn't expected that.

 

The young hunter didn't notice her right away, continuing his training, his muscles tightening with every pull, and Kira had scold herself against giving a sharp, appreciative whistle.

 

What the hell had gotten into her lately? First she'd been drunk enough to share a drink with him, and then to start pouring all of her dramas to him, which she'd never done before, with anyone, and now her eyes lingered longer on his bare chest, longer than they should have. Like the things between them hadn't been out of their depth enough already for the past month, since he had told her about his nightmares and she about her parents. She felt the change, and she did not like it. But it was a naturally occurring phenomenon. She could sense the tension building, the anticipation dancing along the bridge constructed by their eye contact, something unspoken resting just beneath the surface of their words. Beneath the jokes that lingered in the air just a second longer than they should have, before landing hard and skidding across the ground, unsuccessfully nonchalant. For Kira, it was more practical to seal those feelings up tight, like messages in leaky bottles. Sunken. It was better than to allow them refuge inside her head. But those unarticulated wishes, those moments between the two of them, those significant pauses, the 'accidental' bumps of an arm, a shoulder, those gravitational pulls, they always had a way of coming up for air. And they surfaced when people least expected them to. It was of no use to say that the past month had been torture for her.

 

Shaking off those thoughts and regaining her composure, Kira cleared her throat and got Sebastian's attention. He stopped his training and quickly grabbed his shirt from nearby, using it to wipe his sweat off his forehead.

 

"Sorry, I —" he began, without mentioning her late arrival. "I was getting bored all by myself and –"

 

"Get dressed. We're going outside." Kira cut him off abruptly, refusing to look into his eyes for a reason that he couldn't understand.

 

It would be a lie to say that Sebastian hadn't felt the change, too. She seemed…different to him. After she had told him all those things a month ago, she didn't seem to be the same cold and composed hunter. It was unusual, Sebastian knew, but she had a way of surprising him all the time. The only difference was that Sebastian thought he was the only one for whom things had changed. Little did he know.

 

"Are you okay?" he asked carefully, taking a step forward and trying to catch her stare. For a brief moment, their eyes met, but she averted his gaze again. "You're quieter than usual."

 

But she had a thousand things to say to him, and a thousand reasons not to.

 

"I'm fine, let's go."

 

***
 

They arrived at their usual jogging place near the fence ten minutes later. It was still raining heavily, and Sebastian hoped with all his might that she would not make him train outside, on this thunderstorm. But that was exactly what she did.

 

"Care to tell me why we're training in the pouring rain and not at the Field House?" Sebastian asked once they'd stopped walking.

 

"Remember when I said you could use the environment to your advantage in a combat?" he nodded. "Then you'll have to use this," she pointed up at the grey clouds. "To your advantage."

 

"How the hell am I supposed to do that?"

 

But she only shrugged in response, crossing her arms. "What's the first problem you'll run into when facing a monster?"

 

"They're almost invincible?"

 

"Think of something more basic."

 

He considered for a second then spoke again. "They're stronger."

 

Monsters usually had better reflexes and senses than the hunters, especially werewolves and vampires. That's why hunters had to train so hard to defeat them.

 

Kira nodded. "That makes it difficult, yet not impossible. I know from experience that I can use my own height and weight against them."

 

Speaking of which, she really was at least ten centimeters shorter than him.

 

She turned and demonstrated a few maneuvers, pointing out where to move and how to strike someone. He still couldn't understand why they had to take this particular lesson out in the rain; he could barely see her between the raindrops. Going through the motions with her, Sebastian gained some insight into why he'd used to take such a regular beating in group practice with his brothers. He absorbed her techniques quickly and couldn't wait to actually use them. Near the end of their time, she let him try.

 

"Go ahead," she challenged. "Try to hit me."

 

He didn't need to be told twice. He'd learnt his lesson since the last time she'd kicked his ass in a hand to hand combat. Lunging forward, he tried to land a blow, which really proved to be difficult because of the rain blinding his vision. Surely enough, he didn't hit her and she dodged easily.

 

"Use it to your advantage."

 

He still couldn't see how. The ground was slippery because of the mud. The only benefit was that rain might have blinded her vision, too. Maybe that was it. He had to hit fast enough so she wouldn't see it coming. Doing as he thought, he launched once again but was promptly blocked. Only he didn't stop there, and as soon as she blocked her first move, he used his free hand to land another blow, which hit its target, her face.

 

Kira almost lost her balance, but out of instinct, Sebastian caught her wrist and steadied her. Now that he saw that his punch had sent a little blood spluttering out of her nose, he felt terribly sorry. He'd just hit a girl. But that feeling passed as quickly as it came when he saw the huntress grin proudly at him.

 

"Nice job, comrade." she said, and his guilt was suddenly replaced with proud. Acting again without thinking, Sebastian reached for her and wiped the blood away from her nose with his hand. He didn't notice though how her breath caught in her throat at his sudden movement. And neither did she saw the smile forming on his face. She had to be out of her mind. Since when did she flinch at the simplest contact? He was her trainee, she'd had met him only four months ago. They were mere acquaintances. Mere acquaintances that made each other's hearts skip a beat.

 

Sebastian was taken aback a little when Kira pulled back almost immediately. He'd thought they had broken the ice by now, that maybe they had a shot at being…well, friends. But seeing as she could barely meet his gaze, it was clear that Kira was and would be the same nonchalant and detached trainer.

 

"We're done for the day." Kira spoke over the sound of the rain and walked off ahead of him.

 

Studying her carefully, Sebastian realized he couldn't let this opportunity fly by. He leapt at her back, trying to knock her down with one, simple move, exactly the way she'd taught him. He had the element of surprise. Everything was perfect, and she couldn't have seen it coming. Except she did. Before he could even make contact, Kira spoon around at a ridiculous high speed and in one swift motion, she threw him to the ground, pinning him there.

 

His eyes meeting hers levelly, she looked at the young hunter amused, holding his wrists.

 

"Nice try." she smiled smugly.

 

"What did I do wrong?" he asked, breathing heavily.

 

"Nothing. This time you've actually tried."

 

Sebastian sighed loudly, muttering a 'show-off' under his breath and refusing to let disappointment get him down. There were a few advantages to having such a kick-ass mentor. If he could beat her, he could beat anyone.

 

All of a sudden, it occurred to him that she was still holding him down. The skin of her fingers was warm as she clutched his wrists, and her face hovered inches from his own, making his breath quicken even more. Some of her wet and raven hair that lung around her face tickled his skin, and finally, Kira appeared to be noticing him, too.

 

Indeed she was. And all at once, breathing became difficult, and it had nothing to do with the workout. The smell of him was intoxicating, mixing with the scent of rain.

 

Sebastian would've given everything to read her mind right now. Ever since a month ago, since she'd opened up a little, he couldn't help but notice her or look at her every now and then when she wouldn't notice. He didn't do it during trainings, of course, those were business. But before or after, he would notice her face lighten up a little, relaxing, and if he was really lucky, she would smile at him from time to time, or laugh at one of his jokes. Sebastian would never admit it to anyone, not even to himself, but one of those smiles could make his day better. 'Beautiful' no longer adequately described her.

 

With a visible effort, Kira rose and became the tough-love mentor Sebastian knew all too well.

 

"Come on, we should go."

 

Sebastian scrambled to his own feet and parted ways with the huntress, but couldn't help but look back at her, only to find her looking over her shoulder at him, too. He smiled to himself, barely feeling the cold raindrops touching his skin anymore. Finally, after four months, Sebastian felt like finally, after four months, he was able to sneak a peek over those walls of hers.

 

***

 

"Careful, Alice, my little pet is very indisposed when it comes to strangers."

 

Annabelle narrowed her eyes at the Hatter, but remained silent. Just when she thought things couldn't get weirder, now she was out in the woods, hunting down a dragon because a lunatic with a hat had told her so. He claimed that 'his pet' would listen to him and that 'she' could be used as a weapon for the attack they had planned. She still doubted it. Not only did she think that his little pet wasn't real, but even if it was, no way would the beast listen to the Mad Hatter. Apparently, she was wrong.

 

The Hatter entered the cave he had brought her to, and ten minutes later, just when Annabelle thought he would never come out again, he emerged, smiling victoriously.

 

"It's okay, Alice, you can come in. I talked to her."

 

With reluctant steps, the nymph stepped into the cave, only to be surrounded by darkness.

 

"I was in the darkness, so darkness I became." she heard the Hatter quote, talking more to himself than to her.

 

She flinched when he grabbed her hand, but still let him lead the way. When they finally stopped, Annabelle still couldn't see a damn thing.

 

"My dear Alice," he spoke, his voice still sending chills down her spine. "Meet Zeya Red-Tail, the Fire Breather. Zeya, my love, this is Alice."

 

She was still confused, and was just about to call bullshit and walk out, when, in the darkness of the cave, a pair of enormous, yellow eyes cracked open.

14: Chapter 13 . Scars From Tomorrow

 

"Let's get to work, everyone!" Annabelle yelled as she tossed the last bag of guns on the ground. Now they had everything they needed. They were not short of weapons or warriors and they had the element of surprise, the most important thing. The nymph walked among her people, watching as they got everything set for the big day. The Carnival.

 

"Annabelle, wait." she heard a voice call from behind and turned around, only to find a breathless Alexander heading towards her, with his brown curls bouncing up and down as he ran. "God, you're fast." he gasped out, resting his hands on his knees.

 

"What's up, Poodlehead?" she used Emmett's nickname, smiling at his almost offended expression.

 

"Funny. I told you to come looking for me once you were done with the Mad Hatter."

 

Annabelle sighed as she remembered all she had had to go through with that dragon.

 

"Tell me, tell me everything. Don't miss a single thing." Alex said, pointing a finger warningly at his friend. "Is the dragon real? How is it? No, better start from the beginning."

 

Ever since the Mad Hatter had mentioned his secret weapon, the so called Zeya, Alex had been as excited as a kid who had found out that his favorite fictional creature was pretty much real. Rolling her eyes at his childishness, Annabelle told him everything about her encounter with Zeya, not letting anything out, just as he'd wanted her to.

 

"I can't believe dragons are real." Alex shook his head, still smiling, once she'd finished the story. "Damn, I wish I had been there."

 

Neither could she. She had encountered a lot of strange and eccentric things, things that others could not even fathom, but the dragon was a different kind of bona-fide. The nymph was still trying to wrap her head around everything.

 

"So, are you ready for the big day?" Annabelle asked him after his questions about Zeya had finally diminished. Alexander's role in their well structured scheme was an important one, since he was one of the fewest powerful sorcerers they had left. Nevertheless, even if the others were a little skeptical when it came to relying on him, Annabelle had not once doubted her best friend.

 

"Please," Alex rolled his eyes. "I was born ready. You got your guns and I got my magic."

 

The nymph chewed on her bottom lip, letting herself get distracted for a little while, worry darkening her beautiful features.

 

"Bell," she heard Alex's careful voice whisper, bringing her back to reality. "Are you sure you're okay?"

 

She wasn't.

 

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just wish I could be there with you for the attack."

 

But she couldn't. She had other places to be.

 

"It's not like you're going to stay idly by and watch us fight. You got your own battle to handle."

 

Before Annabelle could open her mouth to speak, Emmett's voice rang from behind.

 

"Hey, Poodlehead, just in case your pixie dust fails you, why won't you come over here and watch the real men handle their guns, huh? Maybe you'll learn something."

 

The vampire came over to their spot, putting a shotgun in Alex's hand and bowing exaggeratedly low in a mocking gallantry to Annabelle, taking off an invisible hat.

 

"You'll have to pardon me, Bell," Alex said with fake calmness. "We'll have to take a rain check since I'll be too busy shooting my same old nemesis between his eyes."

 

"It still wouldn't kill me." Emmett laughed, winking at the sorcerer.

 

Emmett and Alexander were more alike than any of them cared to admit, which surprised Annabelle to no end. They were both a little bit messy, a little bit ruined by life, but oddly optimistic despite of it all. Sure, each of them had their singularities. Alex was the adorable goof, the forever energetic, yet surprisingly smart kind of type. One could not simply spend five minutes with him without at least cracking a smile. While as Emmett, he was the critical thinker. He loved to be in the spotlight, loved to show off, and most importantly, he loved to get himself into dangerous situations. The last trait, Annabelle had realized later, had been born out of his vanity and arrogance. He was careless indeed, but not because he did not care, but because he thought he was untouchable, too strong to be taken down. As different as they thought they were, in the essence, Emmett and Alexander were a little bit too similar than they would have liked. Yet, they had never gotten along. Annabelle had lost count of how many times Alex had threatened to turn the vampire into a frog, or how many times Emmett had threatened to cut his long curls with a scissor while he was sleeping. Frequent, yet inoffensive, their fights did not concern the nymph at all.

 

"And you'll have to excuse me, gentlemen, but I'm in no mood for your lady-like bickering." Annabelle excused herself, starting to walk away from the two of them.

 

"Hey, Big B," Emmett called after her. "Should I tell the others you're spending the night here or –"

 

"Don't," she cut him off. "I have to go, unfortunately, and I won't be back till the night before the Carnival."

 

"But you just came." Alex protested, unsuccessful in hiding his disappointment.

 

"I know, but I still have things left to handle."

 

"Eh, suit yourself." Emmett said indifferently, raising two fingers to his forehead and saluting them before he took off.

 

Annabelle wished she could stay. But leaving quickly was the best thing she could do, otherwise she would be tempted to always stay for a little longer, and then a little longer, till she wouldn't want to leave at all. And she still had to maneuver the puppets from behind the curtains, still had one last thing to do before they could go to war.

 

With her last thoughts of her friends and family, the nymph turned again into a blackbird, opened her wings and flew back to the same old land of wonder.

 

***

 

Kira breathed in the scent of the calm after the storm and kept on walking at a rapid pace towards the Field House. It was still March, and yet the temperature was nowhere near mild, she thought, still shivering even after she'd gripped her black cloak tighter around herself. She would rather have the rain than the company of the fiery wind that kept on blowing her hair into her face, obscuring her vision.

 

She stepped inside eventually and walked on the same path, towards the elevator door, until a voice calling from behind stopped her. She turned around and came face to face with the famous Captain of the Guard, Vladimir Danilovich. Unconsciously, she let a small smile blossom on her lips.

 

"Oh Captain, my captain," she joked once he'd reached her, but she realized afterwards he couldn't have possibly understood the reference, so she hurried to say, "Long time no see, wouldn't you agree?"

 

But the corners of his mouth didn't as much as lift. The Captain was dead serious, and that could mean no good.

 

"Kira," he acknowledged her, nodding once. "I must speak with you."

 

The huntress leaned on a nearby wall, crossing her arms against her chest and watching as Vladimir was still trying to put on his cold mask, but failing since Kira could see right through it. Whatever he wanted to say, she suspected that he would rather not have to.

 

"What's the rush?" she offered him another playful smile, leaning a little bit closer and watching as the captain stiffened uncomfortably. One day she would have to stop toying with him so much, just like a cat toyed with a mouse already caught in her trap.

 

"I like to consider us friends, Kira," he spoke finally, averting her gaze. "And as your friend, it's my duty to warn you."

 

"Warn me of wh-"

 

"I know about Sebastian," Vladimir interrupted her. At the mention of his name, the huntress' smile dropped. "You have to stop training him. The King commanded you not to, or else -"

 

"Are you threatening me, Vladimir?"

 

"I am not –"

 

"Because what you're saying sounds an awfully lot like a threat," she went on. "And you should know by now that I don't react too well under pressure."

 

"I am not threatening you, Kira," he snapped, raising his voice a little, only to lower it back when a few heads shot up in their direction.

 

"Then what are you implying, Captain?" she spat the last word.

 

The playfulness was gone, the flirtations were gone, and her smile was gone, too. Now she was the same ferocious Kira everyone knew and feared, and she would not back down that easily, she would not do as others commanded her to.

 

"I am trying to warn you. The King will find out, sooner or later. But not from me," he took a step forward, with an intensity burning in his now soft brown eyes. "And when he'll find out, he'll kill you. And I cannot let that happen."

 

Now Kira almost felt bad for the way she'd talked to him. Almost.

 

"Let him try," she shrugged with a faked nonchalance, backing away a step. "Thanks for the warning, Vladimir, but it does not change a thing."

 

Without waiting for his response, she backed away completely and started to walk towards the elevator. Only when she cast a look over the Captain's shoulder, she saw none other than Sebastian, heading her way. Good thing he hadn't heard the conversation between Vladimir and her, she did not want him worrying around for what was probably nothing.

 

They got in the elevator together, and only when they entered her training room did he speak.

 

"Are you out of your mind?"

 

Kira felt her eyebrows shot up. "I'd watch the tone if I were you."

 

But Sebastian ignored her warning. "You can't possibly still want to train me after what your boyfriend just told you."

 

She couldn't help but give a whole hearted laugh at that. "Boyfriend?"

 

"Well, I assumed –" Sebastian said awkwardly, but trailed off.

 

"You assumed wrong. Not that it's any of your business anyway. And as for what you heard, or should I say, what you eavesdropped, it's still my decision to make and I will not let the captain's unjustified warnings change my mind. I said I will train you and I will keep my word."

 

Sebastian sighed, his shoulders dropping slightly. He looked again at her and for the first time in two months, she sounded an awfully lot like the old Kira, the neutral and icy huntress that he'd thought he had defeated and knocked her walls. But now, it was like the past few months haven't even existed.

 

"Why?" he whispered softly, taking a step towards her.

 

A long paused followed, when she weighted her next words, held his gaze and also took a step forward.

 

"Because I want to."

 

Because I don't want to see you die and know I hadn't done everything I could to stop it, was what she didn't say.

 

But her eyes seemed to betray her thoughts, because Sebastian's face softened as he took a step backwards, dropping the subject, to Kira's relief.

 

Once more, she chastised herself, but for what, she couldn't tell. She just knew that, was she was doing, the way she was acting around Sebastian, was wrong. It was not her. Yet, it seemed real, and she could not help it. She could not think before speaking, she could not close her eyes, count to ten and play hide and seek. Because this impulsiveness, this numbness to the outside noises, these bittersweet exchanges full of possibility and intrigue, they were natural. And you cannot stop the course of nature.

 

As for Sebastian, he was welcoming it all in. He did not bother with thoughts of wrongness, with reprehension and guilt. What was happening, he could not stop it, yes, and he did not want to. Whatever it was, even if he could not quite put his finger on it, he was welcoming it. The nightmare of what meant Kira Atkinson, he was welcoming it.

 

Sebastian cleared his throat, snapping them both out of that silence. "So, what are we doing today?"

 

Right. The training. She remembered at last what she had in mind for today's practice. And it was not going to be pleasant. She headed towards the large table in the far corner of the room, next to the gun table, and reached for a black box. Smiling, she opened it and stared down at the five, finely sharpened, gleaming blades.

 

"What are those?" she heard Sebastian ask from behind and saw him reach for one of the knives, but she slapped his hand back before he could touch them.

 

"How good are you at knife-throwing?" Kira asked him eventually.

 

"Not that good. "

 

"Then we have a lot of work to do today."

 

So she started her teaching. First, the huntress showed him how to assume a proper stance, how to place his weight, and only after half an hour did she start teaching him how to throw it. To no one's surprise, she hit the target on the wood board perfectly, whereas Sebastian could barely hit the board instead of the wall.

 

But eventually, after another hour, he managed to hit where she'd pointed at. Barely.

 

"Let's say you're good to go for the next exercise." Kira said, handing him three knives. He arched an inquiring eyebrow, but stayed silent and waited for her to continue. Instead, she went over to the wood board and glued her back against it, facing Sebastian.

 

"You're going to throw them right past me." she said casually.

 

For a second, Sebastian didn't know what to say. Should he laugh? Because it clearly must've been a joke. But her expression said otherwise.

 

No.

 

"Hit the target." Kira spoke again, sounding almost bored.

 

He could only shake his head.

 

"Hit the target." she repeated.

 

"No." this time he said it loudly. "No, I won't. I'm not… I haven't practiced enough. I can't."

 

"Hit –"

 

"I can't," he interrupted her, more loudly this time. "I'll hurt you. I don't –"

 

"Sebastian," Kira said fiercely and the use of his name finally stopped his blabbering. "I trust you. You can do this. You won't hurt me." she spoke slowly and carefully. She sounded bored, but Sebastian saw her body tense. "Come on. Hit the target."

 

It sounded so much like a challenge.

 

He couldn't keep on protesting. She would make him do it, one way or another.

 

I trust you.

 

How could she?

 

You can do this.

 

He couldn't.

 

You won't hurt me

 

He would hurt her.

 

But she looked at him so fiercely, so intensely, and her green eyes indeed seemed full of trust. She trusted him. Maybe he should trust himself, too. He wouldn't hurt her.

 

Come on.

 

Sebastian turned the knife in his hand, his fingers moving over the metal edge. He took a deep breath and looked at Kira. She tipped her chin up, still challenging him with her eyes.

 

Come on.

 

He lifted his hand up, pulled his elbow back –

 

Hit the target.

 

- and threw the knife. It was just a flash in the air and Kira heard the thud. The knife was buried in the board, right above her head. She smiled.

 

"Good. You got this. Sebastian, look at me."

 

But he closed his eyes for just a second and took another deep breath. When he finally lifted his gaze, he saw Kira nod at him. She wasn't even flinching. Sebastian let the next knife fly, and it came straight at her, spinning. This time, when it hit the board, blood tickled at her skin. He had nicked her ear.

 

"It's okay." she reassured him, trying to smile encouragingly. "I'm okay, just keep going. One more knife."

 

But Sebastian wasn't sure he could keep going. This was already too much. He saw her flinch, saw the blood, and saw her chest rise and fall back heavily. Maybe she wasn't as composed as she'd made him believe. One more knife, he had only one more knife to throw. This time, Sebastian looked into her eyes as he threw the third and last knife. And it would've landed right between her eyes if she hadn't caught it on time, millimeters away from her face. But when she'd caught him, her hand touched the sharp blade, cutting deep into her flesh. Kira dropped to her knees, with some spiteful expletives coming out of her mouth, and threw the knife full of blood away.

 

Fear prickled inside him, in his chest, in his head and in his hands. He'd hurt Kira. He rushed to her side, dropping to his knees in front of her.

 

"Let me see it," he demanded hoarsely, trying to take her wounded hand in his, but she pulled it back almost immediately.

 

"No, it's okay, it was just a scratch." she tried to reassure him, getting up.

 

"Just a scratch?" Sebastian snapped. "Kira, there's blood coming out of your hand. Let me see."

 

And without waiting for her approval, he took her hand to look at the wound. Except there was no wound to look at. No wound, no cut, only a little blood.

 

"But I –" he tried to form the words. "I saw it. I saw the knife cut through your palm. The blood –"

 

"It was nothing." Kira spoke reassuringly. "Just a scratch."

 

But there was no trace of a scratch either. Sebastian knew what he'd seen.

 

"You should go home." she said, turning her back on him, and even though she couldn't see him, he nodded and turned on his heels.

 

He knew what he'd seen. Yet, it made no sense.

 

Sebastian couldn't sleep that night. Only this time, it wasn't because of his nightmares, it was because of his racing thoughts that refused to fall into place and come up with a completely logical explanation. But his brain refused to be rational at this moment. It was fixated on only one idea, but somehow, that idea was the only thing that fit the circumstances. And once he had the first piece, he was able to assemble the puzzle. He knew what he had to do the next day.

 

At the same hour, Sebastian arrived at the Field House and, surprisingly enough, Kira was already there. She didn't even glance his way once he entered the room. This was going to be harder than Sebastian had hoped it would be.

 

At last, the huntress turned to look at him and frowned at his serious expression.

 

"Is everything okay, com –"

 

But before she could finish her question, Sebastian took a knife out of his cloak and drove it right through Kira's shoulder.

15: Chapter 14 . My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark

 

She was laughing. She hadn't fallen to the ground, wounded, as he had hoped. She was looking directly into his eyes, smiling insidiously.

 

"Well, congratulations, Sebastian. You figured it out." Kira spoke finally, pulling the knife out of her shoulder almost effortlessly, without even cringing in pain.

 

He'd hoped he had been wrong. But this was the only proof he needed. She was one of them. Kira Atkinson was one of the Wicked.

 

"What are you?" he found the whispered words sitting at the edge of his tongue and spoke them. Instinctively, he backed away a step, looking around for something he could use as a weapon. But Kira only smiled indulgently at his attempts. If a knife hadn't even hurt her, then neither could a sword, or a gun. Maybe he should consider his only remaining option: running. And he did try; he looked at the door and was just about to start running when Kira's voice broke his train of thought.

 

"I was actually hoping you would figure it out later."

 

At that, Sebastian finally looked at her, more bemused than ever.

 

"You wanted me to figure it out?"

 

But in response, her grin only grew wider. That's when he realized.

 

"This was your plan all along. That's why you never taught me how to kill monsters, you don't want me to. You want me to –"

 

"Join us," Kira finished for him. "You can join us. It's either that or you fight for them," she paused, finally letting the corners of her mouth fall back into place. "I knew, since the moment I'd saved your life that you were no ordinary hunter. You are not a hunter at all, Sebastian. No one has ever showed any sort of compassion towards creatures like us, no one has even thought twice before killing us. No one except you. I couldn't let you die, not when there's so much potential in you. Not when I know you're not one of them, you're not one of the killers."

 

Millions of seconds passed, when, instead of asking questions after questions and seek answers, Sebastian could only play one thought in his head.

 

Lies. Lies after lies after lies.

 

To his utter astonishment, he was actually calm, as if he hadn't just found out that the person who had been training him for more than four months was one of the monsters he had been taught to hate, to kill. He should've acted. He should've grabbed a gun or any sort of weapon and try to protect himself with, that's what any other hunter would have done. But he couldn't. He had no 'uh-oh' gut feeling, as Kira liked to call it. His mind still perceived her as the same old Kira, the same famous huntress he respected, the same one that had endured to save his life, the same one that had stood up for him when even his whole family had turned their backs on him. He couldn't bring himself to be scared of her. He was more like…vexed. But right now, two battles were taking place in his mind, between the wicked creature, the monster that he was supposed to hate, and his Kira. And he couldn't tell who would win. At least, he was sure of one thing. He wanted some explanations.

 

"Explain," Sebastian whispered eventually, voice broken.

 

And with a sigh, she began. "I'm the last remaining nymph in the entire state. And I also happen to be the leader of the wicked army, as pompous as it sounds."

 

He knew absolutely nothing about nymphs, but didn't admit it. Instead, he said, "Your name isn't Kira Atkinson, is it?"

 

She smiled sadly. "No, it isn't. It's Annabelle Maxwell. And I'm 78 years old, not 25." A pause, in which Sebastian tried to put his thoughts in order. "I know how scared you must be, Sebastian, I can imagine how strange and sudden this whole situation is. But one thing I said was true. I do want my vengeance, I do want to make those who'd killed my parents pay, and I want to free my people as I do so," she paused, before whispering the last words. "We're not all monsters."

 

"B-but how can you be both a hunter and a –" the last words died on his lips. Why couldn't he still think of her as a monster? "People have seen you kill. How –"

 

"Have they?" Kira returned his question. "Has anyone really seen me kill? Think about it. They have only heard the stories, seen me come out of the woods carrying corpses. Corpses of people that I have not killed," she paused, crossing her arms against her chest and sighing. "My people have died of starvation, they still do, and instead of burning their bodies, I use them as proof that I have killed monsters in order to protect my cover."

 

"Why?" he asked in a low voice.

 

"Now you're just playing dumb," she laughed. "Why would a supernatural being pretend to be one of the hunters if not to spy on the enemy? There are more of us out there, walking among you without anyone suspecting it. Yet, the hunters still cling to the thought that if monsters were to walk among them, they would notice, because monsters are evil, unholy creatures, easy to detect because of their wickedness."

 

"What do I have to do with all of this? Why did you offer to train me?"

 

Now he was just growing angry.

 

"I told you before. You've changed everything," her voice softened. "I thought there was no hope for the humans, that they were executors who liked to play God, who deserved to pay for their every murder. And I wanted to make them all pay. But I met you, and suddenly I saw that not all of you are as I'd thought, just as we aren't all as dangerous and unholy as you think. You showed me that people are still capable of compassion, and you made me want to consider twice before bringing you to your end, or else, I am no better than the hunters."

 

She spoke hastily and surely, that it would've been so easy to believe her, to give in to all of his thoughts of compassion towards the monsters.

 

"You just –" she trailed off, getting a little closer, and again, Sebastian thought, he should've backed away and be scared. But he could only listen. "You remind me of what this world can be."

 

So easy.

 

"You lied to me," he whispered, and his voice cut like a knife. "You did not save me out of mercy; you did it out of selfishness, because you now want me to choose a side."

 

And yet, so impossible.

 

"That's not true," Kira snapped. "I did it because I don't want someone like you, who had done nothing wrong, to die. Yes, you can join us, but you don't have to. You only have to decide if you're either with them or with us."

 

"I am with none of you, Kira," he yelled. "Or Annabelle, whatever your name is. Haven't you listened when I told you I don't want to fight any war, that I wish nothing but to complete my test and flee wherever my feet take me?"

 

She nodded once, sighing. He noticed how her mask of composure was now finally gone, and he could see clearly through it. She seemed so tired, a still beautiful mess, but just as ferocious in her beauty as before. "I know. I am not asking anything from you. I'm not asking you to forget that I'm a monster, or to ignore the fact that I have done terrible things, too. I am not asking anything. I am only saying that I am thankful for what you have made me realize, and I truly hope that if you are to choose a side, you will choose ours. But it's your decision to make."

 

But he looked at her with lost words on the tip of his tongue, and she waited for something to come, anything that could reassure her that it wasn't all just a lost cause, that she could still convince him, but the only thing that seemed to come was the tease of storm clouds building up behind his forest green eyes.

 

Sebastian shook his head slowly, and only two words seemed to come out. "I can't."

 

The wind of the truth swept away Kira's last gain of hope, as Sebastian turned on his heels and left.
 

***
 

After what was probably her last talk with Sebastian, Kira knew she had to slap herself out of it and focus on the bigger task. Tomorrow was the carnival.

 

Prince's Antonio birthday was the most important event of the year. The young heir of the United Kingdom of Allymea was turning 21, reaching the age of maturity, as the elders liked to call it. And, as usual, the King had to satisfy his son's every want and threw the biggest festivity that the entire Kingdom had ever seen. And this year, the Prince wanted to have a street party, with enormous tents, clowns, magicians and what not. They were laying out the best attack scenario for the Wicked. Good thing the King was none the wiser.

 

And as if that was not enough, the King had decided that he wouldn't only throw a Carnival in his son's honor, but he would also host a masquerade ball at his palace, inviting the elite of the nobles and hunters to celebrate his son's birthday. It was as if they were asking to be attacked.

 

Kira walked along the streets towards the fence, hoping that Alexander and Emmett were already there, so they could get going and finish the preparations for the big day.. She wished she could be somewhere else, somewhere where she could put her mind to rest and forget about anything that had happened with her and Sebastian. She had never wanted for him to find out like that. She'd imagined that she would tell him, one day, when she could know for sure that he was no longer scared of her. But he was too smart for his own good, and now she could not maneuver the things the way she had wanted to. The ball was in his field.

 

Focus on the bigger aim, Kira told herself. Not on Sebastian. But it was easily said than done.

 

She waited for more than 10 minutes for Alex and Emmett to appear, and eventually, she heard the ruffle of the bushes coming from behind and saw the shape of two, tall men coming towards her.

 

"Are the rings working?" was the first thing she asked them as they came to a halt.

 

They both nodded simultaneously. Amelia and the other witches, in order to help them walk around freely, had created a set of rings that would make them invisible to the humans' eyes, but not to each other.

 

"Then let's get going," she grumbled under her breath, already starting to walk.

 

"Where the fire at?" Emmett asked sarcastically, rolling his eyes but following her anyway.

 

"Is everything okay, Bell?" Alexander asked softly instead, looking warily at his friend.

 

"Sebastian found out." Annabelle blurted out all of a sudden.

 

"Again with that?" Emmett groaned. "Don't tell me you still want him to join us."

 

"I do." she snapped abruptly, glaring at the vampire.

 

He sighed, and Annabelle could tell he was rolling his eyes without even looking in his direction. "You can't raise hell with a saint, Annabelle."

 

"How did he react to it?" Alex asked before the nymph could start arguing with Emmett.

 

"How would you react?" she returned his question. "His reaction was to be expected. He's not on our side, but not on theirs either."

 

"No shit." Emmett mumbled under his breath, gaining another pointed look from Annabelle.

 

"We're here." Alex stopped abruptly, making Annabelle bump into his back. Talking, they'd lost track of time and now they'd finally arrived where they were supposed to meet the Mad Hatter.

 

The nymph looked around at the setups for the carnival from tomorrow, and a huge menacing clown face towered over the entrance to a garishly painted building. The Hall of Mirrors. Where they were supposed to meet the Hatter. But he was nowhere to be seen.

 

Glancing around in the hopes that she would spot him somewhere, Annabelle realized that the carousel, the Ferris wheel and the stalls looked much more sinister at night, with no one walking around. Eventually, she spotted him in front of a carousel, recognizing him by his ostentatious outfit.

 

"There he is." Alex said before she could, and they headed his way.

 

Annabelle looked again, only to see if there could be anyone around who could bust them. Maybe humans couldn't see, but they could hear them. Fortunately, the place was empty.

 

"What are you doing here? You were supposed to meet us elsewhere."

 

But the Mad Hatter ignored her, looking admiringly at the artificial horses of the carousel.

 

"Twinkle twinkle, little bat, how I wonder where you're at. Above the world you fly, like a tea tray in the sky." he sang in a hushed done, his eyes still fixed on the horses and his head cocked to one side. It took him several seconds to notice the presence of the others, but when he did, he shot Annabelle a smile.

 

"Alice, my dear," he shrieked. "I was wondering when you would show up. Come, come, we have a lot of work to do."

 

She decided against mentioning his little performance, since his little 'moments' had already become a regularity, and started walking towards the Hall of Mirrors, following the Hatter. She didn't have time for his craziness now. For tomorrow, she was ready to raise a little hell on those rats.

 

 

A/N: There you go, fellas. Another chapter, and I really hope you like it :3. I do promise, though, that this is the last boring chapter of this story, since what I'd written so far was mostly a filler. But from now, the action begins.

Anyway, don't forget to tell me what you think :)

Until the next chapter, rock on!

16: Chapter 15 . Shall We Begin?

"And I will strike down upon thee, with great vengeance and furious anger, those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers" –Ezekiel 25:17

 

 

 

"King Gabryell Manfred Conway and Prince Antonio Conway

Kindly request the pleasure of your company at a grand Masquerade Ball, for the celebration of the Prince's 21th birthday, to be held at his Palace in the district known as Iskar, on the 3rd of April. Festivities begin at seven in the evening. Masks or costumes are required. "

 

 

Kira stared undecidedly at the invitation on her nightstand and at the already withered rose from the vase. Not more than a week ago, she had found the invitation and the red rose at her doorstep, with a note that said, 'The rose may wilt, Your Grace, but your beauty will not. Allow a poor servant of your will to hope that he might see you again, and join me at the Masquerade.'

 

And she would have been very intrigued and skeptical, had she not seen the Prince's signature at the bottom. The huntress had found it very irritating at that time, still did, since she was most definitely not in the mood for his imperial gallantry that was as well baseless. Yes, she had saved his life, but his sudden interest in her was not to be expected at all. Not that she complained, actually, since she was supposed to find a way into the castle that night anyway, invitation or not. At least she could hope that her mask would make her unrecognizable to others, especially the Prince.

 

But Kira had to stop her mental complaining since her task was far simpler than the others'. She only had to make sure that no one left or entered the palace during her people's attack. And in 18 hours, she had to get ready for the big show.

 

To get her mind away from it, Kira decided to go for a walk around the city, and get to see the arrangements of the Carnival in the daylight. And indeed it looked even more stunning than it had the previous night. Delighted screams pierced the air as carnival rides swirled and swung over her head. She was flooded with sounds and scents; artificial butter and giggles, caramelized apples and swelling shrieks. Too bad that, soon enough, it will all be shattered, Kira thought.

 

A clown walked by, carrying enough balloons to make the nymph wonder how many it would take for him to lift off. She smiled to herself as she passed beneath a row of hanging stuffed animals. She felt like buying herself some cotton candy, considering that she hadn't had some since she was five years old. Kira was just about to turn around and head towards one of the candies booth, when she bumped into a muscular chest. She looked up at the tall figure and would have not so politely told him to watch his step, had she not recognized the man.

 

"Sebastian," she let the words fall from her lips, a mere whisper in the crowd of cheers.

 

What were the chances?

 

Absent-mindedly, he had put a hand on her shoulder, which he withdrew right away as his eyes fixated on her, almost as if he had burnt himself. And all of a sudden, his body tensed.

 

"Kira," Sebastian acknowledged her, voice bitter and his posture still rigid. He was distant. Cold. Just like she had been at the beginning of their training sessions. Disappointment hit Kira like a brick. And he would have ignored her completely and went on his way, had she not stopped him, placing a hand on his shoulder, only to have him shrug it off instantly again.

 

Both of them heard the whispers and the murmurs of the others as they passed by. But Kira couldn't care less.

 

"You don't have to act like nothing has happened." was the only thing that came out.

 

"Then how am I supposed to act, pray tell?" Sebastian retorted sarcastically, doing his best to act coolly. Good thing his eyes betrayed him.

 

"And you shouldn't train alone," she went on. "I can –"

 

Sebastian huffed out a humorless laugh. "Yes, because I will most definitely let you train me after…" but fortunately, he stopped himself and looked around to see if there was anyone eavesdropping. Luckily, there wasn't.

 

"I won't let you train me so you can use me as one of your pawns in this war. I already told you I don't want to be caught in the middle." he whispered eventually.

 

"You're right," Kira nodded, surprising him. "It was unjust of me to make you choose a side, especially after all of the things you'd told me, about wanting to escape," she paused, pursing her lips and stuffing her hands in the back pockets of her pants. Eventually, she lifted her eyes and looked into his. "You most definitely don't have to believe me or choose my side; I wouldn't believe me, either. There's …" she paused again, shaking her head slightly and staring at nothing in particular. "There's this darkness in me, this emptiness and a crashing weight of the past and future pressing on my shoulders. I wouldn't wish this life to anyone, not even to my deadliest enemies," and again, their eyes met as she whispered the last words. "You deserve better than this."

 

And with that, she was the one to turn on her heels and start walking, leaving Sebastian gaping, only to stop midway and look over her shoulder at him.

 

"Just make sure you stay locked in your house tonight, okay?" she whispered, loud enough only for him to hear.

 

"Why?" Sebastian asked, this time dropping his hardhearted mask. "What's tonight?"

 

"Please," she whispered again, this time more pleading, and normally, he would have insisted, had he not seen the softness mingling in her eyes. He had never seen any trace of softness before in her.

 

And so, he asked nothing else and let Kira go on her way.
 

 

***

 

The 3rd of April, 10 PM.

 

"Come on, papa, I wanna see the Hall of Mirrors!" the little girl dragged her father inside the Fun House, following the other kids into the Hall of Mirrors. Their impatient yells made their parents sigh, but follow their children wordlessly nonetheless. And they all entered a suspicious living room that smelled a little too dusty and mucky. But the smell was long forgotten when the kids looked around and were greeted by their distorted reflections.

 

But not long after everyone had entered the room full of mirrors, the doors closed abruptly behind them. A few parents gasped, while their children were completely clueless, and tried to reach for the doorknobs and open them back again, but didn't succeed. They were locked in.

 

"It must be a part of some show," one of the mothers said, more to reassure herself than the others. But the murmurs were cut off immediately when another powerful, masculine voice ringed through the room.

 

"Welcome, welcome, welcome!" the voice shouted, and everyone turned around to face a tall, ginger man, definitely not older than twenty five, dressed in a snobbish outfit, completed by his ridiculous top hat. Part of the show, the others told themselves. "You are probably wondering who I am," the young man smiled at them, and for some reason, the parents had the instinct to hide their children behind them.

 

"Well, my real name is not essential, since none of you know me by it. But, without a doubt, some of you have heard of a certain Mad Hatter."

 

Those last two words triggered the panic. Murmurs and gasps filled the room, as the parents looked for another way out. Unfortunately, there wasn't.

 

"In case you haven't," the man went on. "Let me introduce myself."

 

The Hatter smiled at them, a smile that could've frightened the bravest and purest soul, before he brought his hand up and, only with a snap of his fingers, he made all of the mirrors in the room shatter and fall to the floor, all at once.

 

"Missed me?" the Mad Hatter said over the shrieks of panic, cocking his head to one side.

 

And as the children and parents screamed and the Mad Hatter smiled again, all hell broke loose.

 

Outside, it all started when they heard the sound of glass shattering coming from the Hall of Mirrors. And all of a sudden, out of nowhere, wolves emerged from the circus tents, from carousels, from taverns, from everywhere, and, probably, people would have wondered where they had come from, had they not been too busy screaming. The creatures shattered small bottles on the ground, making reactive powder come out of them, quietly purchased by Kira at the Black Market. And it had been worth every damned silver she'd spent as smoke erupted through the field.

 

The smoke was so thick that people tried to run, but managed only to stumble on each other. Screaming halted the music, and the clowns, that had only sold balloons until now, were withdrawing their hidden daggers and slashing across the throats of the nearest guards. Vampires moved fast around the crowd, using their inhuman speed to bite the guards' necks and let them fall to the ground as they moved to next victim, and then the next, and then the next.

 

The guards could most definitely see absolutely nothing through the smoke, not that it would have made a difference, though, since the wolves and the vampires were shielded by an invisible shelter, all credits going to Alexander and Amelia there for their protection rings. None of the bullets or daggers or swords left a mark on any of the wicked creatures.

 

Clowns yanked their daggers from the guards' bellies and necks, more of them surging from the smoke, unsuccessfully. Wolves ran around, growling and ripping throats out, sending blood spattering everywhere. Yet, they were restrained, the guards observed. Yes, they were killing everyone who was attacking them, but they could've killed far more than that. And they were indeed right. The Wicked were holding back. Not out of mercy, of course, but out of their leader's orders.

 

"I don't want to offer them such an easy death," she had told them before the attack. "Strike as few as you can, and most importantly, don't attack the villagers, only the guards. Remember, this is only our first attack. We only want to send a message."

 

And they had listened to her. They were killing as little as possible.

 

The screaming did not stop at all. People ran in all directions, trying to find places to hide, and if they had thought that the beginning had been terrifying, what came next had them petrified. All of a sudden, the smoke, the wolves, the vampires, the clowns, they were all gone. The only evidence of their presence was the bodies of the guards. It looked like it was over. Except it wasn't.

 

From the speakers, where the music had blasted from not even half an hour ago, a raspy, masculine voice boomed.

 

"You think your world is safe?" People could only stop and listen, looking around and trying to find the person with the microphone, the source of that voice. But he was nowhere to be seen, and the voice continued. "That is just an illusion, a lie meant to keep you in your comfort zone. Enjoy your last moments of peace while you still have it. For our time has come, and we want our vengeance. And we will not stop till we destroy you. So," the voice paused, leaving the gaping crowd waiting, before he continued. "Shall we begin?"

 

That was the last thing they'd heard before they saw the shape of a thin, but tall man, on the top of the Ferris wheel, extending his arms and throwing himself off the wheel. A few screams came from the crowd again as they embraced themselves for the thud of the fall, the one that never came. For before he could hit the ground, the impossible happened. A dragon emerged from the night sky, catching the man on its back.

 

Zeya Red-Tail, the Fire Breather.

 

That's when the screaming intensified. If they were scared before, now they were utterly frightened.

 

Even from the distance, the dragon's scales – a brilliant emerald green – shone as if a thousand suns were above the dragon's mighty form. And its powerful roar sounded again, as its chest filled with a gleaming light and smoke and fire came out of its muzzle, setting only the grand carousel on fire.

 

Don't attack the villagers, their leader had said. We only want to send a message.

 

And they had kept true to their word. Yes, they were panicked and scared, but the villagers were unharmed. The dragon had burnt only the carousel, without setting anyone on fire, only showing them what she could really do if she wanted to. Zeya was indeed well trained; they had to give the Mad Hatter that. And as the dragon flew away, with none other than Alexander on her back, the other creatures put their invisibility rings back on and left the crowd wondering if they had imagined it all or not.

 

No sound came after that. Only the ragged breaths of the villagers and the cries of the children, as they all watched an apocalyptic smoke rise to the sky.

 

None of them suspected that this was only the beginning.

 

***
 

The 3rd of April, 7 PM

 

Kira looked at her reflection in the mirror and couldn't believe it was really hers. She looked like a total stranger. She looked…feminine. Yes, that was the best way to put it. But surprisingly enough, feminine suited her.

 

She wore a floor-length, red ball gown, strapless and belted tightly at the chest and bouffant from the waist down. The shady color of the dress matched perfectly her heels' and lipstick's shade, and also her finale accessory, a snake pendant. Sometimes, Kira loved the beauty and charm that came along with her wicked nature, and sometimes she hated it. Tonight, though, she felt beautiful.

 

Least, but not last, the nymph put on her black masquerade mask and disappointedly observed that it barely hid her features. Her green eyes were still to be recognized everywhere. It seemed like she had no other choice but to stand the Prince's company for tonight.

 

Half an hour later, Kira was standing outside the royal palace, at the entrance, hesitant about getting in. Who knew what would wait for her in there. But she had no other choice. For her people, she repeated her mental mantra. Therefore, with a steady catwalk, Kira entered the lions' cage.

 

 

 

AN: So I just wanna say that I really like this chapter. And if any of you is wondering, this is how i pictured Kira's outfit:  www.polyvore.com/dfsd/set?id=1884...

 Okay, byeee

17: Chapter 16 . Remember Me

~Soundtrack: The bad guy wins-3OH3 (for when the King introduces Kira to the new guest)

                          The Steeves- Make it holy (for the balcony scene)

                                                                                             

                                                                                              ~

                                                                        “Dress me up in black and white,

                                                                     I’m dancing to the devil’s song tonight”

                                                                                    - Beatrice Marie

                                                                                               ~

 

 

The string quartet music hit Kira like a wave. The ballroom looked like a sea of gowns swirling around the dance floor, and the elegant music filtered through the large room. It all looked immaculate, from the polished marble floor to the freshly renovated paint on the ceiling, nothing was out of place. Just like the King had wanted. As she walked along the side of the dance floor, heads all around the room turned to watch the huntress. Whispers, shocked expressions, and pointed fingers all came in her direction. One would think that they’d at least try to hide their curiosity. But how could she blame them? She was gorgeous.

 

Kira stopped at a long, red table, picking up a goblet of champagne. At least there were free drinks, she thought, taking a small sip. Half an hour passed, and then another, when, against her will, she had to keep the pretenses and make a little small talk with some of the other hunters who were there on duty, unlike her. But, at least, she considered, their company was better than the Prince’s.

 

Eventually, after the hunters remembered they were here on duty, Kira was left alone once again. Her eyes wandered around the room, only to lend on a brown-haired and tall man, heading towards her. It took her less than one second to realize that it was none other than his oh so royal Majesty walking in her direction. She may have been masked, but she was not disguised.

 

“This is one pleasant surprise, Miss Atkinson.” he spoke as soon as he’d reached her, dropping into a gallant bow as she herself dropped into a curtsey.

 

The nymph faked a polite smile. “Why is it such a surprise?”

 

“I must say, I thought you wouldn’t make it. But I am thankful that you did not deprive me of your company.”

 

“As am I, My Lord.”      

 

The Prince took a step closer, making Kira want to back away a little, but she did not submit to that instinct and held her ground.

 

“I’d be very honored to dance with the most beautiful woman in the room tonight, if you may.”

 

He extended his hand, just as the music changed, becoming slower. How she wanted to reject his offer, and tell him not so politely where he could stick his gallantry, but it was neither the time, nor the place to make enemies, and everyone knew how much the Prince hated to be refused. It would shame him, and one did not simply shame the heir of the Allymea Kingdom. She had to stay focused.

 

Kira shot another fake smile in his direction and said, “It would be very rude of me to turn someone down on their birthday, wouldn’t it?”

 

And with that, she placed her gloved hand into his and he walked her onto the ballroom floor.

 

His eyes were bold, Kira observed. They didn’t meet hers, but roved lower, with no effort at subtlety.

 

“You are beautiful tonight, My Lady,” said Antonio and Kira needn’t worry about meeting his eyes. If she had been headless, he would not yet have noticed. The way he was looking at her body in the red ball gown made her want to slap him for it, but she reminded herself that she was not here to make enemies.

 

“Thank you,” Kira responded, fighting that urge, and not bothering to return the compliment, as it was called for. For the rest of the dance, she answered all of his attempts at conversation with short replies, counting the seconds till the song would be over. And to her fortune, it did not last long, and she was free at last. The Prince led the huntress to her initial spot and was just about to head off, with the promise of another dance, when a voice from behind broke their conversation.

 

“Miss Atkinson,” King Gabryell called, making both his son and the huntress turn, only to face the black mask of His Majesty, which perfectly matched his dark eyes, and the face of another masked man, that Kira didn’t recognize right away. “I apologize if I am interrupting something,” the King smirked. “But I must introduce you to our special guest, who came all the way from Great Britain.”

 

Her heart stopped. The world dropped dead.

 

No.

 

“—and he’s been very eager to meet our one and only female hunter.”

 

This couldn’t be happening. Not here. Not tonight.

 

“Miss Atkinson, it’s my pleasure to introduce you to Conte Christopher Demarco, of Great Britain.”

 

If the roof had come down on her, she would have been less surprised.

 

He was here.

 

It was such madness that it made a churning of her thoughts, more chaotic than the churning all around her. She couldn’t think. What could she say? What should she do?

 

And he stood there, a few meters away from her, wearing a fitted suit and a black bow tie, a black mask that covered half of his face and the most lupine smile. He looked relaxed, almost lazy, never taking his eyes off her. He was challenging her with his eyes.

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Kira’s throat went dry so her words were a rasp, near enough a throaty whisper to be mistaken for one.

 

The corners of his full red lips quirked up into a smile, as he bowed low before her, surprising the nymph even more when he took her gloved hand into his.

 

“The pleasure is all mine, Miss Atkinson.” Christopher looked at her between lowered lashes before kissing her hand gently. Her heart was beating faster than it should have. This was only one of his wicked games, Kira told herself, and she had to stay calm.

 

“If you could excuse me, Your Majesty, I’d very much like to dance with your stunning huntress now, if she, of course, shall accept my invitation.”

 

“Of course, of course, excuse me,” The King backed away, taking his son with him, who had narrowed his eyes at Christopher the whole time.

 

Kira’s skin went hot as her heart grew cold, and she dropped into a curtsy from which she wished that she never had to rise and meet his eyes, but rise she must and she did. His grey eyes were already waiting for hers, still challenging. Wordlessly, the demon took her hand gently into his, and her heart sped up for no reason as he walked her out onto the dance floor.

 

“Do you have any idea what you have just walked into?” she finally spoke her first words addressed to him. “You’re mad to be here.”

 

“I would say it was worth the risk,” he smiled, and his British accent tickled her ears once again. “Plus,” Christopher continued. “It’s your madness, too.”

 

They were still caught in the churning delta of the nobles and he was anchoring her, as steady as a breakwall. In the blank, gasping aftermath of shock, Kira did not try to move away.

 

“You needn’t worry about me, love. Not tonight. A thousand things might have stopped me from being here right now, but instead, a thousand things brought me back here.”

 

His words sucked the breath from her lungs, and she wished they hadn’t. All she could think to say was, “I’m anything but concerned. Instead, you should be, Christopher. The guards aren’t the reason why you shouldn’t be here tonight,” she paused, forcing a smile to tug at her lips. “I am.”

 

Christopher laughed whole-heartedly at that. “I’ve almost forgotten how amusing you can be sometimes, little nymph.”

 

The best defense is a good offense. “And I forgot how much you can underestimate me. Need I remind you that I have still not moved past what you have done to my people?”

 

He rolled his eyes. “Not that again. I thought I’d made it clear when I told you I had done it all for you, to keep you safe.”

 

“And I thought I made it clear when I drove a knife through your chest that I do not care. They were my people.”

 

He gently brought her a little closer and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Yet, I know that you would never kill me. And you can harm me all you want, Annabelle, you can wreck and destroy me, spill as much holy water on me as you like, I am already damaged. But it would never change what you really feel.”

 

It would be a lie to say it hadn’t taken her aback. But she kept her calm. “What I feel is hatred.”

 

Christopher grinned again. “We both know that’s a lie.”

 

And those were his last words as the song came to an end and Kira broke the spell. She backed away immediately and made her way towards the balcony, hoping he would not follow her. But of course he did.

 

Kira leaned with her elbows on the railing, taking a deep breath, and she heard Christopher’s footsteps following her and also the crack of the balcony’s doors as he closed them behind him. Slowly, he approached her, silently mimicking her position and leaning on the railing. For more than a few seconds, none of them dared to speak, and she resumed gazing upon the sky. Smoke grey clouds deteriorated under the fluorescent silver beams of the moon, as if they were shadows to be banished, and the stars were so bright, that they looked like they were holes in the floor of heaven. In other circumstances, it would have taken her breath away.

 

“I am sorry,” were the three words that made Kira snap out of her haze. She dared to look at Christopher, with nothing but sincere curiosity in her eyes now, and found him staring blankly ahead, at nothing in particular. If he hadn’t repeated those words, she would’ve thought she’d heard wrong. “I am sorry, Annabelle.” This time, he did turn to face her. “As hard as it is for me, I admit that my primal instinct to kill everyone that stands in your way is wrong. But you have to understand, love,” he lowered his voice, whispering the next part. “I can’t help it.”

 

It felt like millions of seconds passed till Kira finally spoke. “You should have known. You should have known that I will not be able to move past this, to forget that you have killed my people, the very own people that I am trying to protect.”

 

“I know.” Christopher whispered back. “And there are not enough words to describe how terribly sorry I am. I’ve spent an eternity of years on this earth, and never have I regretted anything as much as I’d regretted the fact that I have wronged you. Only thinking that I may never earn your forgiveness ruined me. That’s how much power you have over me.”

 

“And yet here I am, trying so hard to find you excuses, trying so hard not to blame you. For the past ten years, you have had to defy my ethics, to go against every single thing that I have ever believed in. I no longer know right from wrong when I am with you. Because I –“ she was almost shouting by that point, but stopped herself, even when Christopher wanted nothing more than to hear the end of that sentence.

 

The funny thing was, she had known right from wrong before she had dared to lay her eyes upon him. Then, he’d blurred both into a bunch of colors that’d clashed violently, and now she was trying so hard to hold on to her beliefs, but the colors were fading away and she was losing herself with them.

 

“We are toxic.” Kira finally whispered, her green eyes drifting downwards.

 

“And yet, here we are.” Christopher replied, and she hadn’t even realized how, suddenly, he was standing too close, so sweetly close that she could have nudges his lips with the tip of her nose. And they stood like that for more seconds than any of them could count, their breaths teasing each other and with their eyes closed. Both of them were too afraid to close that gap. And yet, here they were, as Christopher had pointed out, one millisecond away from each other, one millisecond away from tasting that deadly poison and giving in.  But as she let him lift her chin, cup her small face in his big, calloused hands, and their lips barely brushed against each other, the déjà-vu feeling hit Kira like a thunder. And when she finally got a real taste of his full lips, she remembered. The remembrance of an erased memory came back like a wave.

 

It had happened five years ago, right after one of Christopher’s visits. She was sitting all alone in the woods, right in the place where she had met the demon, and thinking about the day’s events. She had tried to kiss Christopher. And he had pushed her away, saying that she was only weak for having such an Achilles' heel, for caring. Caring was weakness, he’d said. And maybe he was right. Christopher was nothing but a cruel monster, a creature of fire and despair. But also the closest thing she had right now. Or so she had thought.

 

The nymph couldn’t remember for how long she stood there, when she heard footsteps from behind. Getting up and turning around, she saw Christopher heading towards her, walking hastily, but surely.

 

“What are you doing here?” she asked annoyed, trying to sound distant. “I thought that –“

 

But her words were swallowed away, for instead of stopping, Christopher cupped her face in his hands in brought their lips together in a swift movement. And it was a complete and utter hurricane. He kissed her with such intensity, that it made her forget about anything else, made her forget that she was supposed to be mad at him, made her forget his previous words about weaknesses and soft spots. He kissed her words away. But when he finally pulled back, she couldn’t help but see the torment in his eyes.

 

“I’m sorry,” were the only things that she’d heard before anything went blank. He had erased her memory.

 

Kira pulled back now entirely, staring incredulously at the demon. He had erased that memory.

 

“I remember,” she murmured, more to herself at first, then spoke loud enough for him to hear, too. “I remember everything.”

 

Christopher narrowed his grey eyes at the nymph, wanting to ask what in the world she was talking about, but Kira hurried to explain.

 

“You kissed me. That night, after you rejected me,” she shook her head in disbelief, but then realized. “You kissed me and then erased my memory.”

 

And only then did apprehension hit him. He should’ve known. He should’ve known that if he were to ever kiss her again, she would remember about that night. He was a fool. And now, he expected Kira to shout at him, to blame him for lying to her, to blame him for pretending not to have feelings for her, when he so obviously did, and tormenting her with thoughts of weaknesses and flaws.

 

But she did none of that. She could only stare at him with amazement shining in her bright eyes, and something else, that he could not quite name. He dared a look at her aura and the amplitude of colors surprised him. The same old darkness that made her look like an angel of death was there, and the same old blue, but two colors were new, though. There was red all over those two other colors. Red for passion, he reminded himself. Red for the most fervent feelings. And least, but not last, he saw a flicker of pink. It was barely visible, but it was there, shining like the only star on a cloudy sky. Pink for the purest feeling, the most idealistic one. Pink for love. Christopher had never seen that before in her aura.

 

“You told me you don’t have feelings for me.” Kira finally spoke, her voice breaking a little.

 

“I lied.” he stated simply and unsurely, hoping that she was not going to unleash her fury. And his thoughts of hope were heard, for she did anything but unleash her anger. She closed the gap between them, coming as closer as she could without bringing their lips together and, slowly, took off his mask. He let himself give in to her touch, closing his eyes for just a second, only to open them again and find her staring right back, with an intensity that would have made even the most shattered soul feel more holy. Just like that, he leaned in and brought their lips together, this time without any sort of hesitation coming from either of them. Her mouth was already waiting like a question. Only this time, she did more than just not stop him. She kissed him back. And if their first kiss had been like a drop of rain, their second one was a cyclone. Fierce, and full of intensity, yet incredibly sweet at the same them. And there was such glory in it, that neither Kira, nor Christopher wanted to ever break it again. She tangled her hands in his blonde hair, and he gripped her hips as tightly as he could without hurting her. Maybe they were toxic, but if that was how intoxication felt like, then they wished to have tasted that poison a long time ago. But eventually, like any spell, it broke, because of Kira. She backed away, taking his hand in hers and looking at the watch on his wrist.

 

“I have to go,” she said, turning her back to him, but did not leave before whispering, “You know where to find me tonight.”

 

He let a smile tug at the corners of his lips as he watched her get lost into the crowd of gowns and costumes.

 

 

***

 

Kira dropped on her bed, taking off her heels and mask. She sighed, glad that she was finally left alone with her messy thoughts. After leaving Christopher, she had completed her part of the job and placed the bag with the hex that Amelia had given her at the castle’s gate. And that small, hexed bag had made the palace’s doors and windows close behind her, trapping everyone in, so no guards could leave the place during her people’s attack. But the spell wore off an hour later, so even if they could get out now, it would be in vain. The attack was already over, and it had been successful, as she had heard. It was all done for tonight.

 

Of one thing she did not want to think. Christopher. For if she thought about it, she would start to regret it. And that, the nymph did not want. She hadn’t felt that alive in a very long time.

 

Kira was just about to strip off her dress and get into bed, when she heard a knock on the door. She knew who it was before she had even opened the door.

 

“Christopher,” the nymph said, smiling like a damned fool at the handsome, grey-eyed man leaning on her doorframe.

 

“You’ve been expecting me, I see.” he grinned, entering the house without any invitation.

 

And Kira would have opened her mouth to reply, had her words not been kissed away. Again. And how she loved it. Her skin heralded the call of his hands around her neck and she loved it. How she loved the way his kisses surprised her, how she loved how right and wrong and twisted it felt. How she wanted him to melt her, untangle her, destroy and wreck her. How she wanted more.

 

It was tragic. And yet, beautiful. It was a fiasco. And yet, an explosion of stars.

 

She felt him serenade her neck with whispers and she tried to catch the quite words of a teacup moonlight, wanting to sip them slowly, but clouds drowned out the midnight reflections, until the words fell through cracked floorboards, beneath her undancing feet. Maybe it was a fiasco, but it was a glorious one.

 

 

The next morning, he awoke in her bed. And yet, she was not there. Christopher got up immediately, looking around the room and hoping that last night had not been a dream. He sighed in relief when he saw her coming out of the bathroom, but was disappointed to see her fully clothed.

 

“Leaving so soon?” he smirked, leaning lazily on the headboard. Memories of last night came back to him, and he sighed contently. It still felt so surreal, like a make believing.

 

But then, it all shattered. He noticed those hard lines around her lips that usually appeared when she was troubled, or didn’t know how to tell him something.

 

“What is it, love?” he spoke carefully, and he saw her shoulders drop slightly.

 

“Christopher, listen,” she began, and he wished he hadn’t detected the regret in her voice. “Last night –“

 

“Don’t,” he slowly whispered, but she ignored him.

 

“It was… I don’t know what it was, but –“

 

“There’s someone else.” Christopher spoke surely this time. He had felt it last night, that small restraint, but he had chosen to ignore it. He told himself that he was being paranoid. She had kissed him back, he was sure that what he felt, she felt it, too. And maybe she did, but not with as much intensity. Her heart was in two places.

 

Her expression showed no sign that he had been wrong.

 

“I don’t know,” she said eventually. “I really don’t, and right now I really need to figure things out. I need you to know one thing though,” Kira came to stand at the edge of the bed next to him, cupping his cheek with one hand. He wished he hadn’t leaned into her touch. “We could have been great together. Five years ago, we could have been. But not now. It’s a little too late now.”

 

The nymph got up, heading towards the door, ready to leave.

 

“Is this our ending?” his words made her turn around and cast one last look in his direction.

 

For a few seconds, she did not dare speak. But when she did, her voice cut like a knife. “I don’t know.”

 

And now, Christopher understood. He was at the edge of her heart and there were only sweet-tart gazes and a single petal of a forget-me-not. That little shade of pink was not reserved for him. It was for someone else. He only realized then, as he slowly whispered to himself, alone in that cold room,”she loves me not”.

 

18: Chapter 17 . Sippin' on Fire

 

~Soundtrack: These new puritans- We want war (for the opening scene with the Wicked)

                            Foxes – Devil Side (for the Christopher scene)

                           Of Verona- Breathe (for the Kira- Sebastian scene till the end of the chapter) ~

 

 

 

We interrupt this program to bring you a very important message…

 

On 11th April, 2134, at five o’clock in the afternoon, on national television, war was declared by the wicked army on the King of the Allymea Kingdom. Every citizen stood in front of their TVs and watched as a masked man spoke for an entire mass.

 

By the power vested in me by our leader, I declare that, from now on, the wicked army is ready to fight back and conquer your realm. Whoever wants to join us will be well greeted, and whoever wants to stop us is welcomed to try. But remember, people of Allymea, do not let the King speak for you. Speak for yourself. Those who do not move do not notice their chains. Without further ado, we wish you a good evening.

 

The King was enraged.

 

“We must act and we must act fast. Our retribution must be swift and it must be brutal.” he shouted to all of his guards.

 

And as any threatened leader, he made a hasty and unwise decision. He sent 100 soldiers from his army into the Wicked Woods, to make sure that those ‘insects’ wouldn’t bother his citizens for a second time. He was so sure of himself and his authority, that he hadn’t even seen it coming. The next day after King Gabryell had dictated to his army to venture into the woods, the castle’s guards rushed into the throne room to report the latest occurrence. Fifty dead bodies had been dropped out at the castle’s gates, all the corpses of the royal soldiers. On the top of one of the corpses was a note and a voice recorder. The note only said, ‘for His Majesty, King Gabryell’. Therefore, the guards took the recorder to the King, who pressed the play button not so enthusiastically. For a few seconds, nothing could be heard, only silence. When all of a sudden, a piercing scream blasted from the recorder. It was unmistakable. The scream of a banshee, the omen of death. And as it ringed through the throne room, all the windows shattered and fell on the ground, making everyone cover their ears. Once it was over, another pause followed before a female voice said, almost mockingly, “Game on”.

 

First the Carnival attack, then the declaration of war, and now this. Fear populated now the entire territory of Allymea. The shots had been fired. And it looked like the wicked creatures were going to win.

 

 

***

 

“Holy crap! That was awesome,” Alexander exclaimed, looking all starry-eyed at the banshee named Selena. “Even though it kinda made my ears bleed.”

 

Selena laughed, handing the recorder to Kira.

 

“Was that scary enough?” she asked, though she was already smiling proudly.

 

“Hell yeah.” Alex butted in.

 

“It should do,” Kira responded, putting the small device in the inside pocket of her cloak. “Now we only have to take care of the bodies.”

 

“Then my job here is done.” Selena said, before walking in the camp’s direction, swaying her hips a little in a way that left poor Alexander gaping.

 

Kira nudged the sorcerer in his ribs, breaking his stare. “Focus, Alex! You can declare your undying love for Selena later. Now we got work to do.”

 

“What?” Alex shrieked, a little too high-pitched. “I’m not…I mean, that would be so…“he scoffed. “You know what, nevermind.”

 

Kira rolled her eyes. “Sure stuff, you dork.  Now let’s go, I promised the Mad Hatter I would keep my end of the bargain.”

 

“Sorry, Bell, but I promised the others I would help them with the bodies. You’re on your own.”

 

“And let me guess, Selena is going to be there, too.” the nymph rolled her eyes again.

 

“Maybe –“ Alex trailed off, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

 

“You’re hopeless. Just go!”

 

Not before thanking her, Alex headed the other way and Kira was left alone to face the Mad Hatter. Truth be told, he still gave her the creeps. But a deal was a deal, and she had to give him her tears after he’d helped them, and had done a remarkably joke.

 

Therefore, five minutes after her talk with Alex, Kira arrived at the dragon’s cave, where the Mad Hatter had told her to come. She stepped into the darkness once again and trusted her nose to guide her towards the dragon. She followed the smell of smoke, and not 10 seconds later, she bumped into a chest.

 

“Do you have it?”

 

Maybe she couldn’t see a thing, but she sure recognized that spine-chilling voice.

 

“Yes,” Kira replied, handing the Mad Hatter the small jar with her tears inside.

 

“You had wanted to know what I’d use it for,” the Mad Hatter took the jar from her hands and she saw his figure entering deeper into the darkness. Reluctant, she followed. “Well, now you’ll get to see It with your own eyes, dear.”

 

He was sounding so unlike himself. Not only did he seem nervous, but he also seemed…normal, Kira guessed. He sounded like anything but a mad man right now, and Kira couldn’t tell if that was alarming or not.

 

“Would you mind lighting up the torch from your left for me, please? There is a match right next to it.” the Mad Hatter said sweetly, his voice now a mere echo in the cave. Irritated but also curious, the nymph did as she was told and lit up the torch. And suddenly, the light of the flames illuminated the cave. And Kira saw her again. Zeya. She was just as fierce and gorgeous as ever, a goddess of inferno and anguish. For a second, as the nymph stared into the dragon’s golden eyes, she had the impression that they stared right back, with something that could only be perceived as yearning. What could a dragon be yearning for and not have?

 

She shook that feeling off and focused her attention of the Hatter, who was just adding her three, crystal tears in a wooden bowl, who was already filled with a lime liquid. Now what in the world could that be, Kira wondered. But her question was not left unanswered, for when the Hatter finished his churning he came next to the dragon, who resting her muzzle on the ground.

 

“Come, my love, drink this,” he whispered to the dragon, placing the bowl next to Zeya’s muzzle. It was as if he was talking to a real person.  “Drink this, Zeya, and it will be soon over.”

 

Obedient, as she usually was only with the Hatter, the dragon drank the entire green substance, and for a few seconds, nothing happened. Disappointment darkened the Hatter’s expression, as the dragon remained still and Kira remained silent.

 

“It didn’t work,” he slowly whispered, and then louder. “It didn’t work.” He hit the small bowl with his foot and let out the most raging riot of anger that Kira has ever heard. “I should have known. Gods above, I should have known that this damned spell wouldn’t work.”

 

“Mr. Hatter –“ Kira tried to say, but was cut off immediately by his violent outburst.

 

“Hatter, hatter, hatter. The mad hatter, crazy hatter, silly hatter,” he blabbered, almost illegible. “Lies and lies. There is no Hatter, you foolish girl. You are not Alice, there is no white rabbit or a hole to fall down, there is no bottle to save you when you feel like you might drown, and there is no angry Queen of Hearts. There is no Wonderland. There are only thoughts, ripping us apart, giving us hope that will eventually disappear, too, only to leave us with this inescapable pain that is inescapably real. There is only failure.”

 

He spoke so hysterically and angrily, without pausing to gather his thoughts or to take a deep breath, that when he eventually stopped, he could only break into fits of sobs and fall to the ground, pulling at his hat and taking it off, for the first time since Kira had met him.  She had no idea what to say. Not because she didn’t want to, but because she did not understand a single thing. What hadn’t worked? What spell? She looked at the dragon only to find her staring back at the Hatter, with something that looked like pain shining in her bright, enormous eyes.

 

Right when Kira was about to turn on her heels before the Hatter could let loose of his anger again, a bright color shone in the dark cave, so bright that both of them had to cover their eyes with their hands. It did not last long, however, and the cave was illuminated by the small torch once again. Only when Kira looked around again, her instincts kicking in, the dragon was gone. In Zeya’s place now stood a naked woman, with a messy and dirty ruby hair, staring back at her with a pair of wide, golden eyes.

 

“Zeya,” the Hatter exclaimed, rushing to the girl’s side and pulling her into a tight, almost desperate embrace.

 

Oh. That’s why he had needed her tears, to complete his spell and turn a girl back from dragon to human. And considering the look on the Hatter’s face, a look of pure bliss and happiness, he had done it to recover his long lost love, it seemed. Both of them stood embraced like that, with tears running down their faces, until Kira decided he had enough of it and turned on her heels to leave.

 

“Wait,” the Hatter called back, looking at the nymph through his teary vision. “Thank you,” he managed to say, breaking into his one and only genuine smile that she had ever seen on his face.

 

“I did nothing.” Kira tried to return his smile, but hers was so much sadder. “I only kept my end of the bargain.”

 

“For years I’ve been looking for a nymph, to help me procure the last item for the spell. She’s been like that for more than 40 years,” the Hatter paused again, unable to look away from Zeya. “Thank you.”

 

Without insisting, she just muttered a ‘you’re welcome’ under her breath and left the cave, leaving the Hatter and the golden-eyed girl. This particular episode had only reminded her of what she’d always known. Monsters were not made, they were created. And whoever had put the Hatter’s Zeya under that spell had clearly made him lose his mind. Even one of the scariest persons that Kira had ever known was not completely evil. There was no such thing as pure evil, as the hunters liked to put it.

 

“Quite a stirring event, wasn’t it?” Kira heard a voice speak from behind just as she was getting out of the cave. She blinked and stars exploded as a new kind of torture found solace in her bones.

 

“Hello, Annabelle.” Christopher said, smiling like a fox. And she took him in. His eyes, still grey as time, in contrast with the sun that he was bathing in. His hair that looked so much like a halo, which was quite ironic. And his lips –

 

That’s where Kira stopped her contemplation. He was as tempting as a sin.

 

“Christopher,” she breathed out.

 

“Fancy meeting you here, little nymph. Looks like you’ve been quite eventful lately, helping a mad man and his poor hexed dragon girl,” he paused, smiling again that wicked smile of his. Lord help her. “However, who could blame you? I’ve once had a soft spot for a lovely dragon couple.”

 

“Yes, Christopher, I’ve been really busy,” Kira managed to say bitterly. “I’ve got an army to raise and no time to chat.”

 

She started walking again, but barely took two steps before the demon put himself in her way.

 

 “Aren’t you the least bit curious as to why I am here?”

 

“I suppose you didn’t just happen to come my way randomly, so no, I am not curious.”

 

“I’m here for you.” he stated simply, this time dropping his oh so charming smile, for which Kira was quite grateful, considering it was hard enough to concentrate anyway.

 

She sighed, wanting so desperately to seem cold and clinical, anything but letting the chaos that were here thoughts show. “You can’t do this to me, Christopher. You can’t just show up and distract me while I have a war to knocking at my door. I’ve already told you what I’d wanted to say.”

 

“But I haven’t,” he interrupted her, now any sign of mockery completely vanished from his expression. “I haven’t told you half of those things I should’ve,” he paused, clenching his jaw. “Yes, I will leave, on only one condition.”

 

“And what is that?”

 

“I want you to be honest with me.”

 

That took Kira by surprise.

 

“Honest about what?”

 

“About me.”

 

Those two simple words could be her undoing. Gods, something was terribly wrong with her.

 

“As soon as we’re done here, and you tell me the truth, I will leave. For years you’ve been covering our connection with enmity and loathing, and after you have finally given in to your truest instinct, you walked away. And I want to know why,” It felt like a million years had passed before he spoke again. “Why didn’t you choose me?”

 

Kira sighed again. “I haven’t chosen anyone, Christopher.”

 

“And yet that little spark of pink in your aura tells me otherwise.”

 

Pink? Kira had always known that demons could read auras, but she had also hoped that her emotions weren’t that obvious. What Christopher didn’t understand was that it confused her more than it confused him. She didn’t have anything sorted out. Not Sebastian, not Christopher, not even herself, and she had refused to think about it. And now the demon came and just dropped that information. Great.

 

“No, you don’t get it, Christopher. I have chosen my people. I am building a life, I am trying to free us, to make justice, I have too many things to worry about, and you are not one of them,” But when she saw his defeated expression, she hurried to say. “You want to know why, then fine. Yes, I loathe those dark parts of me that care for you. But I couldn’t stop myself from seeing the good in you, not even if I wanted to. Because I can’t hate someone who is a cruel monster to anyone else, but for some reason, cares only for me,” she stopped to catch her breath before continuing, in the most sincere tone that she could pull off. “This is not an ending, Christopher. It’s just not the right time to be thinking of you, or of anyone else for that matter, not when I have a war waiting for me outside those woods.”

 

And now silence filled the space between them. Silence and tension and electricity. And too much attraction for Kira’s own good. But eventually, Christopher stepped forward, coming so close to her that she could inhale his scent again. He smelled like a walking flare.  

 

“Then, perhaps, when all of this was past, I might find you. Or you might find me. And you’d let me show you what this world has to offer.”

 

“Perhaps,” the urge to lean into him was staggering. But nor her mind, or her heart could forget one name. Sebastian. “Or perhaps not.”

 

His wicked smile was replaced by a sad one as he backed away. “I’ll wait.”

 

And she was both ready for that and not.

 

 

***

 

Missing someone was such a tricky thing. It could come in waves, or it could stay permanently with you, like a habit of the heart. For Sebastian, it was in waves. And tonight, he was drowning.

 

At first it hadn’t been like that. Sure, he was thinking of Kira, like one might’ve thought of the rays of sunshine in the winter or the icy wind in the summer. But now was May and he was desperate to drown. He only had 24 counted days till his test.

 

Sebastian was the witness of one of the greatest changes in history. He had always been the one to keep for himself what he really thought about the wicked creatures, mostly because he was too afraid of what others might’ve thought of his opinions. But now, it was all changing. People were starting to talk about what he once wouldn’t have dared. Every day, he was hearing random bits of conversations in public, about the Carnival attack and the public declaration of war.

 

“I’m telling you, Marcel,” he’d heard a group of young hunters speak one day at a tavern. “They are fighting back, and we stand no chance. And the King is doing nothing to protect us; he is only protecting himself, increasing the number of guards at his palace.”

 

“So we’ve heard,” another young man interfered in their conversation. “My wife just told me this morning that he actually thinks about increasing the taxes, as rumor has it. I don’t know, man, I’m starting to bet my money on the Wicked.” 

 

A few months ago, that statement would have gotten him decapitated. But now, it only got a few grunts of approval. It was as if they were talking sports, not a matter of life and death. Sebastian couldn’t believe his ears.

 

He was just about to turn around and walk out of the bar, with a half full bottle in his hands, when something caught his eye. Or rather, someone.

 

Kira.

 

And so it sank. All of his progress sank. In her, it sank.

 

She was still a story that he didn’t know how to tell, a story to which he couldn’t find a beginning or an ending or a middle of something so unconfined to time. He could not flatten it into words.

 

She looked like anything but a monster. She was just sitting on a chair next to the counter, smiling and talking to a young bartender.. But it was enough to trigger something in him. Something inexplicable. And so he drowned in that somethingness that night. His nightmares had been just the same, with him dying in that test and Kira making the most piercing sound that he’d ever heard, that always woke him up.  But that night, when he’d seen her, he dreamt of something else. This time it wasn’t him who was dying. It was Kira. And this time it wasn’t she who was screaming. It was him. That was the second trigger. And he did not wish to go through another one. He had to see her.

 

 

***

 

Warm air. The night sky. A gentle breeze.

 

Kira stared at the waves hitting the shore from the top of a hill, taking a big gulp out of her bottle of whiskey and gazing at the sky full of stars. The déjà vu feeling hit painfully hard. She had been here once before, and she had not been alone.

 

I know there’s something more.

 

He’d been wrong. There wasn’t

 

She looked up again at the dark mantle sweeping across the sky, studded with pulsing diamonds, and sighed.

 

One month and still no word from Sebastian. Did he truly loathe her that much? Honestly, she didn’t want an answer to that question. It had been his choice and she had let him go. Yet, since Christopher had told her about it, she couldn’t stop thinking about that little twinkle of pink in her aura. She wondered for how long it had been there. But most importantly, for whom did it shine?

 

The Hatter’s words ringed in her head again.

 

There are only thoughts, ripping us apart, giving us hope that will eventually disappear, too, only to leave us with this inescapable pain that is inescapably real.

 

Inescapable. That was the word that stuck with her the most.

 

Kira took a longer sip from that bottle, hoping she could drown in it again. For a second she wondered how it would’ve been for to be able to physically drown. In the ocean, maybe. To just take off your clothes and let the water fill your lungs and –

 

Her thoughts were interrupted by someone clearing her throat behind her. She turned around and found a very somber-looking Sebastian.

 

***

 

What unholy thought had driven him here? One minute he was sitting alone at a bar and the other one he was heading towards the place where he’d known he would find her. This was all kinds of wrong. And yet, his feet kept walking.

 

And so he ended up standing right in front of her, in front of the person he wanted and didn’t want to see. Wrong and right as it was, Sebastian was sure of one thing. He had to talk to her.

 

And say what, his conscience asked him. Ask why she was what she was? Ask why he couldn’t bring himself to see her as a monster, especially right now, when she looked so breathtakingly beautiful, bathing in the moonlight? Ask why he cared for her so much, when the world was burning all around them and they were burning with it?

 

Maybe it was. Maybe it was all kinds of wrong, yes, but what if it was right, too? It did feel like it. He’d been surviving on crumbs for so long – thoughts of her, memories. But now with her, so close, so definite, he realized he’d been starving.

 

So, Sebastian did the one thing his conscience told him not to. He ignored the world as it dropped dead to his feet and focused on what he wanted. Her.

 

 

***

 

Warm air. The night sky. A gentle breeze.

 

And Sebastian Hendricks was the only inescapable thing from her life right now.

 

“What are you doing here?” she managed to get out, unable to break their staring contest.

 

His face had never been unreadable to her, she thought. Not then, not now. She could see right through his façade. Because a thousand emotions shone right now on his face, and doubt appeared and disappeared from his eyes.

 

“I just needed to see you.” were the only words that came out of his mouth. Vague and yet logical. She had needed to see him, too.

 

“Why? Haven’t you told me enough already?” was what Kira said instead. “What do you want now?”

 

 

***

 

You.

 

That was the answer to her question.

 

You are what I want. Screw this world, and screw the King and screw the Wicked.

 

You are what I want.

 

And yes, he could’ve said that. But instead of complicating himself with words, he acted.

 

 

***

 

As sudden as a car crash. As rapid as a broken heart. As quickly as a bee sting. As promptly as a flick of a switch, that lightens an entire room. Yet, as certain as that the ocean is the meeting-place of all waters; the skies, the meeting-place of all torches; the tongue, of all tastes; the nose, of all smells; the mind, of all precepts. As certain as a sunrise.

 

Sebastian kissed Kira with nothing but certainty.  Under the moonlight, with the sound of waves hitting the shore as the soundtrack, he kissed her like she was his oxygen, short, long, soft, deep, every one so perfect. He played his hands over her body, her hair, her face, like she was a Rubix cube, as if she was impossible to master. Breath flew from both of them - an unruly fashion.

 

Until she pulled back.

 

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” she whispered so softly, that even their heartbeats were louder than her. But Sebastian shook his head in response, refusing to hear her denial. “Sebastian –“ she trailed off again, this time pulling back for good. “You have no idea to what kind of torture you’re putting me through. You don’t want this. I told you, you deserve better.”

 

“You don’t know what I want,” he snapped eventually, but still unable to get angry. His head still buzzed with bliss. “You told me there’s this darkness in you that can’t be mend, and you were wrong.  I want to experience the darkness, the heartbreak of your past and the crushing weight of your future. I want to explore your nightmares and understand your demons. I want you to give me all of you, not just the good parts. And if you had ever thought differently, you are wrong. I don’t care what I said. You are what I want. Now.”

 

Maybe he did want that. For now. But did she deserve it? She definitely thought she didn’t. - For all of her dancing at the fiery gates, did she really deserve a little taste of something warm? Something that thawed the ice cold nights? Something that made her forget of the consequences?

 

For now.

 

Maybe she didn’t. But for now, it didn’t matter. So she pulled him into another kiss. It was permanently present, permanently recent, and permanently unconscious. Permanently beautiful. For now.

 

And it took them not more than a few minutes to get back to his place. And as soon as they’d arrived, his name fell from her lips in a soft, desperate groan. And that was all it took. And then his hands were on her hips and his mouth was on her skin, and he lifted her up on the wall as she wrapped herself around him. And their lips met halfway. And the ache was agonizing and not enough, not at all. All at once was too much and not enough.

 

 

***

 

Warm air, the morning sky, a gentle breeze.

 

A piercing silence as he played with her hair, the smallest chuckle of content that could be heard, and the warmth of his body as it was radiating from him. The smallest touch of tired lips. Whispered sweet nothings. Absolute and utter bliss, that neither one of them thought they deserved.  And finally, sleep. A sleep with no nightmares for both of them

 

Sebastian tossed to one side and looked at Kira beneath sleepy lashes. Their first kiss felt like 3 seconds ago. Maybe it was sudden. But he felt as if she should’ve done it a long time ago. Even while sleeping, Sebastian observed, she looked like a deadly goddess, an iron queen, She was anything but peaceful – even in repose she was a silky gray could, bright with the promise of lightning. Maybe Sebastian would find no peace with her. But there would be no greater passion.

 

Last night, after Kira had pulled back from one of their kisses again, she’d told him. “And then tomorrow what?”

 

But he shrugged. Who cared? They had another day lying at their feet. Today. And then another night. And if they were lucky enough, maybe tomorrow, too.

 

19: Chapter 18 . Half Of My Heart

 

Kira knew that what she was doing was wrong. She knew that her little corner of heaven that she shared with Sebastian was just temporary, but most of all, she knew it was not right. Not only because there were only a few days left until Sebastian's test, and after that their heaven could be sucked away, but because there were times when she could not stop herself from thinking about Christopher. The next morning after the masquerade, Kira had told him that she could not be with him, not before she had everything figured out and let herself forget completely about Sebastian. But she had not offered Sebastian the same speech. She could not bring herself to. And she had tried, God knew she had tried. But every morning, when she would wake up next to Sebastian and find him already staring at her with that sleepy face of his, the words died on her mouth.

 

It was not fair to give any of them only half of her heart. Not telling Sebastian about Christopher was not fair. Promising Christopher that one day she might come back to him had not been fair. But it was tempting to let herself be decieved for just a little while longer, at least enough to get a taste, a glimpse of what it could be. Because she could not choose now. Kira could not choose between the two halves of her heart. With Christopher, she did not have to hide her true nature, she did not have to stop herself from slipping into that sweet, sweet darkness. She did not have to apologize for what she was. She was twisted and messy and wicked. And he was just the same. But with Sebastian, Kira wanted to be more. She wanted to be what he saw in her, and she wanted to let herself be fixed and patched up. Falling for him had been like an afternoon nap. She had promised herself only a brief slumber, but as soon as she had fallen, she was already dreaming.

 

With Christopher, she was herself. With Sebastian, she was better.

 

With Christopher, she was Annabelle Maxwell, leader of the Wicked. With Sebastian, she was Kira Atkinson, the famous and feared huntress. Two sides of the same coin. Two halves of a whole heart. And she could not decide which one she liked better.

 

***

 

Sebastian yawned and got out of Kira's bathroom, trying to tiptoe his way back into bed without waking her up. Of course, just like everytime, he failed. The nymph cracked open her eyelids and buried her face in the pillow.

 

"Could you stop moving around, you asshole?" she groaned, voice still sleepy.

 

"It's not my fault that you're a light sleeper." Sebastian laughed, getting back into bed next to her and dropped an arm over her waist. But he knew she was pretty much awake by now, so he did not stop there. He kissed his way down from her temple to the smooth skin of her shoulder, and of course she leaned into his touch, just like a kitten.

 

She was perfect. After 23 days spent together, Sebastian could only come to that conclusion. She was perfect. Her skin was like a storm beneath his fingertips, the rolling of clouds, the snapping of lighting. The sheets were their world, and in them she was finite and infinite, beautiful and sublime, bound and boundless at once. She was a fierce lioness. And he lover her. In his last day with her, he at least had to admit that to himself.

 

"What shall we do with our last day?" he whispered gently, and that's when Kira finally turned to face him.

 

"This isn't out last –"

 

But Sebastian kissed away her words, not letting the nymph finish the sentence that she had repeated over and over again. It was. Sebastian knew that tomorrow, when he would have to face whatever monstrosity the King had prepared for him, he might not make it out alive. After all, it was troubling all the trouble they were not getting into. In the end, he was just waiting for reality to catch up with his dreams.

 

Eventually, they pulled out from the kiss, and Sebastian wished he would've known how to immortalize her eyes right now, because there was such softness in them, a softness that he didn't always see, and he did not wish to forget it. He did not wish to forget her.

 

And so, they stayed in all day. Of course they could not leave the house; they still could not risk being seen together. And just like in any other day, they talked. Talked about everything and nothing at the same time and it finally hit Sebastian that maybe only 23 days were not enough with Kira. He wanted more. He wanted so much more than a limited number of days. He wanted to know more about her, and also wanted her to know more about him. He wanted to tell her everything. That's why he would fight tomorrow, fight to survive. For her.

 

She talked about the day after the test with such nonchalance, that it almost made him believe that he could make it through tomorrow.

 

"If I do survive –" he started, stroking her raven hair gently, but Kira cut him off instantly.

 

"You will."

 

Sebastian laughed. "Fine. After I make it out alive, what if we jump over the Wall together?"

 

That had certainly taken Kira by surprise. He had always told her about how he wanted to see what was outside those walls, and if he indeed were to see the sun rise the day after tomorrow, he most certainly wanted to keep true to his promise. And he might as well escape with her.

 

"Sebastian –" she started, and Sebastian wished he hadn't seen that look of doubt on her face. "Let's just focus on you passing the test. And then we'll see."

 

What Sebastian didn't know was that she did not want to lie to him. She might choose him or she might not. She still did not know. But maybe, once she would see him defeat whatever creature the King wanted him to, she might know. But until then, Kira had to make sure he indeed would come out of it victorious.

 

 

 

And so the 24th day passed, too. And the next morning, when Sebastian woke up, he knew he was going to die.

 

***

 

"Would you relax?"

 

Oddly enough, those words had come from Sebastian, not Kira.

 

"No, Sebastian, I can't. If you're not going to worry, then I will."

 

She was pacing the floor, running a hand through her messy hair and chewing on her bottom lip.

 

"Weren't you the one who told me I would make it out alive?" he inquired, forcing a smile to lift the corners of his mouth.

 

Kira sighed. "Yes, but you could still get hurt. Or, or –"

 

But Sebastian didn't let her finish, and before she could continue, he closed the gap between them and pulled her in for a hug. Slowly, her body relaxed as she rested her head on his shoulder and held him as tight as she could.

 

"Please don't make me lose you, too." she slowly whispered, burying her face in his neck.

 

But Sebastian could not promise anything.

 

An hour later, they had both made it to the Field House, where the King had told both of them to come. It seemed he had known all along that Kira had been training Sebastian, but hadn't said anything against it, considering he had invited her, too, to watch the test. Reluctant, Kira and Sebastian walked through corridors until they eventually stopped in front of the room 268, where the King had told them to be. Sebastian slowly placed his hand on the doorknob, daring to glance one more time in Kira's direction before stepping into the dark room. Where the King and eight other hunters waited for them.

 

"Ah, I was afraid you might have flown the white feather," the King said as soon as he saw the two of them enter the room, not bothering to sit up from his chair. His long, grey hair hung loosely around his shoulders and his thick, brown eyes rested on the huntress and Sebastian, full of confident curiosity. He did not look at all troubled or disturbed. He looked rudely amused by all of this. Kira wished to wipe that smug grin off his gross face.

 

She studied the room, and noticed that behind the King, there was a thick, glass window, that she could've seen through, had it not been too dark on the other side.

 

"I suppose neither one of you wants to waste precious time, so let's get it done, shall we?" the King spoke again, turning to look at one of the guards. "Let's introduce Mr. Hendricks to his opponent, Patrick." The guard nodded once and pulled a lever from the wall. And all of a sudden, the room behind the glass window illuminated.

 

Kira had not known what to expect. Maybe a few vampires, or werewolves, perhaps even a witch, but she had certainly not expected this. Behind the glass window, the face of Christopher DeMarco stared back at her.

 

"No," she slowly whispered to herself, backing away a step.

 

"I suppose you know Mr. DeMarco, Miss Atkinson. I believe I have formally introduced you already. Not that I should've, since I believe you two already knew each other. Am I not right, Miss Atkinson?" the King said, and Kira felt his grin grow wider as he spoke the next part. "Or should I say, Miss Annabelle Maxwell?"

 

As soon as the words left his mouth, three guards rushed over and cuffed her. She was too shocked to even fight back. She was not even processing his words. The only thing she could think about was Sebastian. Sebastian facing Christopher. Sebastian facing Christopher and losing. Or Sebastian facing Christopher and winning. One of them dying.

 

Another 'no' escaped her mouth as the guards finished putting the handcuffs on. She should've fought, but she could not stop staring at Christopher.

 

"No, don't! What are you doing to her? Let me go." Kira barely heard Sebastian yelling from behind, as a few guards tried to restrain him. He fought back, still trying to get to the nymph and help her, but he was not strong enough to knock down five guards.

 

"I must say, Annabelle, I'm disappointed in you," King Gabryell spoke again, this time getting up from his chair and coming to stand next to Kira. "I thought that you might've at least tried to be careful and not blow off your cover. But I suppose that's not your fault. You should thank your so called Russian friend, Gavril, for that. Apparently, he has heard a lot of interesting things going on in that training room of yours. As for your beloved Mr. DeMarco, blowing his cover off has been easier than I'd expected. All I had to do was call His Royal Majesty of England and find out there was no Conte Christopher of Great Britain."

 

"You can't do this to him," Kira finally spoke, voice raged and hoarse. "He can't possibly kill a demon. Demons can't be –"

 

"On the contrary, Miss Maxwell. Mr. Hendricks won't have to kill the demon. Of that, we'll take care afterwards. He simply has to resist 10 minutes in the same room with the demon without being killed. Not that difficult, is it?"

 

But he knew it was. He knew exactly why it was. Given the chance, Christopher would kill Sebastian. Kira tried to yank at those cuffs, tried to break them, but the King stopped her.

 

"I wouldn't try that if I were you. Those aren't just any handcuffs."

 

She checked and just as expected, she saw the pentagram drawn on them. The special anti-Wicked cuffs. Of course. She was powerless.

 

Kira tried to look once again at Christopher, and found him staring back, with something that looked like defeat mingling in his beautiful, grey eyes. She shook her head, as if to silently send him a message. She could've yelled at him, beg him not to do it, but deep down, she knew he would not have listened. He averted her gaze and stared at nothing in particular.

 

"Showtime," the King said as two guards pushed Sebastian into the other room and three other guards held Kira. But she still could not bring herself to fight back. She was numb. No plea and no prayer would help her now. Today, either Sebastian or Christopher was going to die. And God knew what the King would do to her after all of this was over.

 

Sebastian did not understand a thing. But as soon as he saw three guards cuffing Kira, and the King calling her by her real name, he knew he had to act. He tried to escape and help the nymph, but it had been in vain. He could not fight five guards.

 

And then the King spoke about a so-called Christopher DeMarco, and the only thing he got from the King's conversation with Kira was that he had to face a demon. A demon that, apparently, Kira was quite familiar with. He saw the way she looked at the demon, and it was clear that they knew each other. All too well, maybe. But that was not his biggest concern. Sebastian had to think of a way to survive 10 minutes in a room with a demon.

 

The guards threw him in the room and locked the door behind them, and Sebastian dared a look in Kira's direction, who seemed to not know at whom to stare. Christopher or him.

 

As for the demon, he only smirked at Sebastian.

 

"So, you must be the famous spark of pink in her aura." he said, and once again, Sebastian didn't understand. But he had to distract the demon, for at least 10 minutes.

 

"I don't know what you mean."

 

"I must say, I had bigger expectations," he continued as if Sebastian hadn't said anything. "It's quite hilarious that she was even considering leaving me for you. After all, Annabelle and I go way back."

 

Now Sebastian was completely clueless.

 

"From your expression, I take it she hasn't told you yet."

 

"Tell me what?"

 

The demon moved around the room, hands behind his back, stopping in front of the young hunter.

 

"She loved me," he smirked. "Maybe still does. Actually, we have spent quite a memorable night together, not even a month ago."

 

Don't listen to him, Sebastian told himself. He's lying. That's what demons do. They lie.

 

But he had noticed the way Kira looked at the demon.

 

"Even if it were true," Sebastian finally said, holding Christopher's gaze. "I could not care less."

 

To his surprise, the demon burst out laughing. "She must like your taste of humor," he paused, then spoke more seriously. "What do you think will happen if you make it out of this alive? You will age, she will stay the same. Or don't tell me you are willing to flirt with immortality for her."

 

He was, as a matter of fact. He had thought about it. But that was of little importance at the moment.

 

"Even if that weren't an issue, she is a killer. And you are just a poor, innocent soul. Your aura is full of gold and pink; next to her, you look like a porcelain doll."

 

"She's not a killer." Sebastian spoke confidently, and the demon laughed again.

 

"Oh, but she is. I taught her to kill myself. Her soul is filled with darkness, a darkness that you can't even begin to comprehend. She's the Epytimbia, the 'she upon the graves', the 'Blackened one', as the folklore so poetically liked to put it. She's a monster."

 

"She's more of a person than you are."

 

Christopher smiled. "Maybe. But eventually, you'll see it yourself. She'll get tired of you. And when you'll be nothing but a pile of bones, she'll come running to me."

 

"Then end me now," Sebastian said, surprising even himself. "End me now and see what she'll think of you afterwards. Kill me and she will forever hate you."

 

The demon's expression changed. His features hardened and his smug smile paled, as he stared at Sebastian with nothing but hatred in his eyes.

 

"What are you waiting for?" he kept on challenging the demon, and then took a step closer. "Kill me." But Christopher did nothing. "Or are you afraid? Is that what it is, demon? Are you afraid? Afraid of what she might do to you if you kill me in front of her?"

 

In a second, Christopher grabbed his collar and threw him against the nearer wall. "I fear nothing." he yelled, punching the young hunter across his face, sending blood spattering everywhere.

 

But Sebastian had counted. He only had two more minutes left, minutes in which he had to distract the demon, and then it would all be over. Just two minutes.

 

"End it." he repeated, as Christopher punched him over and over again.

 

 

 

Kira watched as Christopher punched Sebastian, and finally figured out his game. He was trying to distract him. After all, even though she could not hear their conversation, she knew that this was what he had been trying to do all along. And now, Sebastian had only two minutes left. Two minutes and then she'd get both Christopher and Sebastian out of here, and they'd figure something out, or –

 

But her thoughts were interrupted when Christopher grabbed Sebastian by his neck and held him higher against the wall.

 

No, it couldn't go wrong. Not now, when they were so close.

 

At least, she wished she knew what they were talking about.

 

 

 

Christopher kept on punching that little worm, unable to stop himself. He was raged, to say at least. And Sebastian took it all, not even bothering to fight back, making the demon even angrier.

 

"Fight back." he yelled, grabbing the hunter by his neck and lifting him up with just one hand.

 

"Why?" Sebastian struggled to say, voice strangled. "My battle is already won. She will never love you back."

 

That was all it took. By this point, Christopher had been able to keep it together, enough that he might not have had to kill the bastard after all, for Kira's sake. But the last sentence made him lose it.

 

Therefore, with just a turn of his wrist, Christopher snapped Sebastian's neck.

 

And that was when Kira started to scream.

 

 

 

A/N: You're so going to kill me for this one, aren't you?

 

20: Chapter 19 . Even If It Kills Me

 

Her voice rang in the room, a scream to scour the souls of all gathered, a sound to drive ghosts from their nests, a song of despair. And with tears running down her face, she could only see Sebastian, falling to the ground, with his eyes closed. And she hit the glass window with her fists, her screaming turning now into hysterical fits of crying.

 

"Remove her." Kira barely heard the King's voice in the distance, and next thing she knew, two pair of arms were lifting her up, leading her out of the room. But she could not let Sebastian here.

 

Sebastian.

 

Sebastian, who was dead.

 

Sebastian, who not even an hour ago was smiling at her, with reassurance in those deep, green eyes. Sebastian, whose life she had once saved. Sebastian, who had been the first to speak up and say that he could not live in a world where killing was a customary thing. Sebastian, who had made her laugh, even when she had forgotten how that felt like. Sebastian, who was the purest soul in this world full of monsters. Sebastian who had made her believe that she could be better. Sebastian, who did not deserve such fate. Her Sebastian. Dead. Gone.

 

She had to get him out of here. He could not be dead. Not like this. Therefore, rage took over all at once. She let out a scream, and in approximately 3 seconds, she snatched the key from one of the guards' pocket, unchained herself, and grabbed one of the hands that were holding her and pulled with force, tearing it away from his body. Tossing the detached arm around, she moved on to the next victim, rage shining in her green eyes. Using her unnatural speed, Kira shoved her hand into one of the guards' chest, ripped out his heart, and didn't even wait for his body to hit the ground before she ripped out two more hearts. Another guard took out his gun and tried to shoot her, but to his own misfortune, not only it did the nymph no harm, but it pissed her off even more. In a second, she was next to him. In another, she grabbed his head and hit it in the nearest wall, breaking his skull. As for the last guard, Kira only snapped his neck, giving him a painless death.

 

Now, the only one she had to deal with was the King, who had backed away in a corner, looking utterly scared. As he should've been. Too bad that Kira had made a promise to someone else.

 

"You're lucky I won't be the one to kill you, old man." the nymph said, before punching him. And as he fell to the ground unconscious, Kira did not even bother to wipe the blood away from her hands before opening the door to the room behind the glass.

 

But all of her rage was gone as she saw the dead body lying on the floor, with his neck twisted. And there was no more space in her heart for rage. Her eyes widened and her knees went weak. Dead. He was really dead.

 

Of course he was. What had she hoped? That what she had seen behind that glass window had been only an illusion? That she would find him smiling, telling her he was okay?

 

She was supposed to be angry, right? She was supposed to feel sad or angry or even numb. But she was just scared. Scared of losing him, scared of what would happen after.

 

At a slow pace, she approached his body, and realized she had been holding her breath only when she kneeled beside him and exhaled loudly. With her hands trembling, she touched the side of his face and turned him around. Blank. That was how his expression looked like. Blank, as if he was only sleeping.

 

"No," she whispered softly, and still, even though she had been expecting it, the tears did not come. Probably because she didn't know how to react. "It can't be real. No, no, it can't be. God, no. This is just like in his dreams, and he'll wake up eventually. He always does. Please, wake up. Sebastian, wake up. Please.''

 

And she waited, as if in a matter of seconds, he would open his beautiful, green eyes. But he did not. And yet, this couldn't be real, Kira told herself. The universe wasn't that sick, right? Right?

 

"Come on, Sebastian," Kira begged, irrationally. "Don't do this to me. Not you. Not now. We were so close. Don't do this to me. You're okay," she smiled and stroked his face gently with her bloodied hands. "You're okay. I love you. You're okay. Don't be dead. Don't do this to me. Just come back. Please."

 

But he didn't move and his eyes didn't open. And realization hit like a bolt of lightning. He was dead. Her Sebastian was dead, and her last gain of hope was gone. He was gone. And the pain of losing him was physical. Every breath of oxygen tasted like poison and every beat of her heart felt like a hammer in her chest. How had he ever expected her to bear this? And the tears finally came.

 

"Please, Sebastian," she cried, burying her head in his chest. "Don't leave me here. I can't do this without you."

 

Kira didn't remember the last time she'd cried. Maybe 10 years ago, when she'd been forced to leave her home and watch her parents being taken away. But even so, she had never cried like this, with so much frustration and desperation. She had not been able to hear his last heartbeats, and his last words had not been addressed to her. It was too unfair. They'd been happy.

 

Kira would've forgotten completely about Christopher, had she not heard him whisper her name eventually. But she shook her head, unable to face the demon. Sebastian's killer. Yet again, she was supposed to feel angry, but there was place for only an overwhelming fear.

 

"Annabelle," Christopher tried again. "Other guards might come soon. We have to go, love."

 

"No," she yelled exasperatedly. "Just go."

 

"Please, love –"

 

"Don't you dare call me that," she screamed, this time looking at him. "The least you can do is leave."

 

"I will not leave without you."

 

Before Kira had the chance to yell at him again, Christopher took a step forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. And in a blink of an eye, the scenario changed. She was no longer in that morbid room, full of blood. She was standing in the middle of the Wicked Woods, next to her people's camp. Christopher had teleported her here. She looked around and exhaled loudly when she saw Sebastian lying on the ground, next to her. But there was no trace of the demon.

 

The nymph was just about to resume her position on the ground, next to Sebastian, when she heard a voice calling from behind.

 

"Bell," Alex called, running to her. "Where have you –" but the words died on his lips as soon as he saw the corpse.

 

"He's gone," Kira whispered, voice trembling and tears threatening to fall again. "Alex, he's gone."

 

With no hesitation, he pulled the nymph in for a hug and wrapped both of his arms tightly around his best friend. And she cried. Cried for what felt like years. Cried till her eyes felt like they were about to bleed. Cried until, eventually, she fell asleep.

 

The next morning, Kira woke up.

 

A dream.

 

A nightmare, more likely. It had all been a nightmare. But it only took her five seconds to realize that it had not been a dream. For when she turned around, Sebastian's corpse lay next to her, and Kira had to suppress a scream.

 

Not a nightmare. Just her life, full of never ending funerals.

 

And now she remembered last night. Alex had tried to take her away from Sebastian, to bury his body or burn it, but she had not let him.

 

Kira had expected it to hurt less the next day. She didn't know why, but she just had. But if not, it hurt even more. There were no more tears, since her eyes were too dry, but now, his voice rang in her head, like a stuck song.

 

Do not mistake this for kindness.

 

Then what should I take it for?

 

She had saved his life once. Why couldn't she have done it twice?

 

So I suppose this is payback for ditching you yesterday.

 

Maybe if she'd been more careful.

 

It suits you.

 

Maybe if she'd tried harder to hide her identity.

 

I know there's something more.

 

Maybe if she'd just run away with him.

 

You are what I want.

 

Then he would've still been alive.

 

She wished she could just shut down her brain, make those awful memories disappear, make them stop flashing before her eyes.

 

Sebastian, grinning proudly at her after he'd just beaten her in a stick-fight. Sebastian, asking her tons of questions about her life. Sebastian, staring at her between the raindrops. Sebastian, bathing in the moonlight, telling her she was what he wanted. Sebastian, kissing her. Sebastian, sleeping in her bed. Sebastian giving her hope.

 

And yet, one memory stuck with her the most.

 

"Sing me something." he whispered in her ear one day, as they were lying quietly in her bed. "Sing me that song you used to hum quietly to when I was running around the fence."

 

She wanted to ask him how he knew about that song, but decided against it. And instead, she sang the song that her mother had used to sing to her, the song that she could not possibly get out of her head.

 

'Hold me close and hold me fast,

The magic spell you cast,

This is la vie en rose.

Give your heart and soul to me,

And live will always be

La vie en rose'

 

Without even realizing it, Kira had started to sing it out loud, in that unnerving silence. Only Emmett's voice broke her out of that trance.

 

"Hey, sleepy head," he said carefully, smiling sadly at the nymph. "How –"

 

"Leave." Kira demanded, before he could ask how she was.

 

"Listen, Annabelle, we have to burn the body, we can't –"

 

"I told you to leave." she yelled louder this time, making Emmett's eyes widen.

 

"Bell –" Kira now heard Alex's voice come from behind, and saw him appear from behind Emmett, with a gas canister in his hand. "We can't leave him like this."

 

"What do you want me to do, huh?" she got up abruptly, snatching the canister from Alex's hand. "You want me to not be in denial? You want me to face the truth? Well, here's the truth. He's gone, and I don't know what to do. I can't bring him back, and I can't cling to his corpse for much longer. So fine, let's burn it."

 

And so she poured all the gasoline on Sebastian's body, ready to also snatch the lighter from Alex, before he pulled back.

 

"Annabelle, stop, you're scaring me."

 

"Give me the lighter, Alex."

 

"Just calm –"

 

"Calm?" she yelled. "You want me to calm down? They're dead, for God's sake. They're all dead. And I don't know… I can't even…"

 

And finally the tears came again, as she fell to her knees, breaking into fits of crying.

 

"Make it stop," she said between sobs. "Please make it stop, it hurts too much."

 

Alex kneeled down beside his friend, wrapping his arms around her again, and let her cry for as long as she wanted to. But eventually, Emmett's voice brought her back.

 

"What if you could bring him back?"

 

"W-what?" Kira mumbled softly, wiping her tears away.

 

"Man," Alex started. "Don't mess with her head like that."

 

"I'm serious. I might know a necromancer who owes me one and -"

 

"I killed the last necromancer," Kira spoke. "Five years ago. He was starting to raise a lot of people from the death and –"

 

"There's another one," Emmett said confidently. "Look, it may be just a shot in the dark, but it's something."

 

"Stop," Kira snapped, running both of her hands through her tangled hair. "You're getting in my head, stop."

 

"Annabelle," Emmett interrupted her, grabbing her wrists and making her face him. "I know it might be a dead end but…. don't you wanna know? Don't you wanna know if there is something you could do for him? Don't you wanna try?"

 

Seconds flew past before Kira finally spoke again.

 

"Where can we find him?"

 

***

 

Emmett led them through the Woods, whilst Alexander carried and Kira walked idly by, staring blankly ahead. It was obvious that she didn't believe this would work, but as Emmett had said, she had to know that at least she'd done everything she could.

 

In half an hour, they eventually made it to a cabin in the woods, and Emmett knocked twice at the door, but no answer came.

 

"I know you're in there, Martin. Let us in." Emmett yelled, knocking even harder. "I won't leave until you let us in."

 

Slowly, the door cracked open and Kira could see someone peek out. The person then carefully stepped out, and the nymph took him in. Grey hair, long beard, and wrinkled face. He looked like a normal, retired old man.

 

"What do you want, boy?" the old man, Martin, Kira supposed, said in a guttural voice. "I thought we parted ways twenty years ago."

 

"Yeah, well, I need your help. We want you to bring someone back."

 

And then, Martin finally looked at the body.

 

"No can do, boy," the necromancer shook his head. "I no longer practice dark magic." And with that, he turned on his heels slowly and headed back inside. Only, when he was just about to close the door, Emmett blocked it with his foot.

 

"25 May 2099 tells you something, Martin?"

 

The wizard stopped midway and closed his eyes, exhaling loudly.

 

"I no longer practice dark magic." he repeated.

 

"I don't care." the vampire retorted.

 

"If I bring one more person back from the death, I might die."

 

To that, none of them could say anything else. Except Kira.

 

In one second, she withdrew her pocket knife from her boot and pointed it at the man's neck.

 

"Either way, you'll die, old man, so I suggest you choose the least painful way."

 

She was done being nice. She was done pretending. If making some collateral damage meant bringing Sebastian back, then she would gladly step on any corpse. The necromancer gulped and tried to nod without too much movement, as Kira removed the knife from his throat. Soon, Martin beckoned them inside, and Kira took in every detail of the room. Old furniture, two large windows, one rocking chair, a wooden table, a bed and one bathroom.

 

"Put the corpse on the bed." the necromancer commanded and Alexander obeyed, letting Sebastian down slowly. "For how long has he been like this?"

 

"You mean dead?" Emmett inquired rudely, and earned a pointed look from both Alex and Kira. "Sorry." he muttered.

 

"For 18 hours," Kira answered.

 

"Then this is going to be very difficult. It will dry up all of my power."

 

"You don't have that much of a choice." the nymph smiled threateningly at him, swirling the dagger between her fingers. The old man grumbled something intangible under his breath and went to look through his old books. Five minutes later, he returned with a massive manuscript in his hands and scribbled through it.

 

"How long is this going to take?" Emmett sighed, sitting down in one of the rocking chairs.

 

"Black magic is no cup of tea, you fool," Martin snapped at the vampire. "It takes time and if you don't have that, you might at least get off my nerves."

 

"You two seem close." Alex whispered to Emmett after the wizard had turned his back on them, and the vampire laughed.

 

"You have no idea."

 

And it went like that for two hours, with the necromancer mumbling Latin words under his breath, from which Kira could only make out 'rise' and 'sacrifice' and 'death', and with the three of them watching closely and sighing loudly from time to time. But eventually, Martin grabbed his book and stopped in front of the bed in which Sebastian was placed.

 

"His spirit has almost reached the light. And if he crosses the barrier, he will be out of my reach. We must hurry."

 

"What about the sacrifice that has to be made?" Kira inquired, thankful now that she knew a little Latin. "You said something about a sacrifice."

 

The necromancer smiled indulgently at her. "We shall see, child. We shall see."

 

Next, Martin grabbed his book and, putting a red stone on Sebastian's chest and lightening four candles from the four corners of the room, he started chanting in Latin.

 

"Hic en spiritum, sed non incorpore, evokare lemures de mortuis decretum espugnare de angelus balberith en inferno incremeablis," And then, more loudly. "Wa ta na slam! Wa tan na slam!"

 

And throwing his hands dramatically in the air, the necromancer was finished. Yet, nothing happened. Except for the fact that as soon as the words left his mouth, Martin closed his eyes and fell to the ground like a bag of potatoes. Emmett rushed to his side and checked his pulse, only to discover he had none.

 

"Gone," he mumbled, his features hardening.

 

"But did it work?" Kira asked hastily, looking at Sebastian.

 

"I don't know, Annabelle, do I look like freaking Merlin to you?"

 

"Dude, chill." Alexander snapped back at Emmett. But Kira was no longer listening to their bickering. Instead, she rushed to Sebastian's side and stroked his face gently, waiting so eagerly to see his green eyes open again. But not even after five minutes, or ten or twenty, he did not wake up. Kira waited patiently though, and stood by his side, eventually falling asleep with her head on his chest. And when she woke up, it was now raining outside, and there was no sign of Emmett or Alex. Next to her bed, she found a note that said 'went to check the camp. Be back soon'.

 

Sighing, she got off the bed and walked around nervously, hoping to find something, anything that might assure her that her Sebastian would come back. But her only shot, the necromancer, whose body was now gone thanks to Emmett and Alex, was dead. She looked out the window and saw that it was now a thunderstorm outside, with the rain falling hard on the rooftop and the thunders ringing in the distance. Exhaling again, the nymph went to the bathroom and washed her face with cold water. Looking up in the mirror, she realized that her reflection looked like a complete stranger. Her face was paler than usual, and even though she could live months without eating, maybe even years, she looked skinnier, too. But she could not care less.

 

Walking back in the living room, Kira found that she was not all alone, as she'd thought. For, in the middle of the room, stood now Christopher. And he looked absolutely terrifying. Besides the glow of the bolts of lightning coming from outside, the room was completely dark, making the scenario even more eerie.

 

"You dare come here?" Kira said, though she was definitely not in the mood to pick a fight.

 

"I see no reason for why I shouldn't dare do anything." Christopher answered confidently, not even glancing in Sebastian's direction.

 

"Then why are you here, Christopher? Are you here to gloat over his corpse?" she now moved between Sebastian's body and the demon's.

 

He laughed once, shaking his head. "That's a very poetic way to put it, but no. I'm here to make sure you were okay, especially not that you know your former lover is not rising from the death."

 

"What gives? Do you hope that I might come running in your arms afterwards?" she paused, spitting the next words. "You killed him."

 

"I'm sorry." the demon mumbled, cocking his head slightly to one side.

 

Bur the nymph let out a humorless laugh. "Are you now? Look me in the eyes, Christopher, and tell me that you're feeling sorry for killing Sebastian."

 

"Of course I'm not sorry for that, love. He's a meager cockroach to me. I'm sorry that I caused you so much pain."

 

"You hypocrite son of a bitch," Kira mumbled, shaking her head slightly and staring at the demon with nothing but hatred in her eyes. "You deserve to die."

 

"Then kill me." Christopher said abruptly, and took out a small dagger from his coat, placing it in the nymph's hands. And she noticed immediately the Enochian symbols drawn on it. "You recognize this weapon. It can kill any demon. So," he gulped, looking Kira dead in the eyes. "Punish me for what I've done."

 

And she wanted to. Oh, he had no idea how much she wanted to. And she even gripped the dagger tighter in her calloused hands, ready to drive it right through his heart. But she couldn't.

 

"You said I deserve to die," the demon spoke again. "Why not by your hand? I cannot imagine a greater death."

 

He came closer, placing his hand over hers and making her point the dagger at his face. "Kill me." he whispered softly, a small tear escaping his eyes.

 

And only then did Kira realize.

 

"You want me to," she mumbled under her breath, then more loudly. "You want to die." And she dropped the knife on the floor, as Christopher bowed his head, closing his eyes. "You realized you can't have me and you'd rather die than see me with someone else. But I'm sorry, Christopher," she spoke harshly, taking a step closer to him. "I won't be what you want. I won't be your weapon of self-destruction."

 

"Then is this it?" Christopher whispered, the lightning almost covering his voice. "Is this where I lose you?"

 

But she refused to answer that question. Instead, she said, "Goodbye, Christopher."

 

And with a last glance at his little nymph, Christopher turned on his heels and left.

 

***

 

Sebastian woke up, with Kira's scream still ringing in his ear.

 

A dream.

 

A nightmare, more likely. It had all been a nightmare.

 

Only, when he looked around, he didn't find himself in his room. He was lying in an unknown bed, and could barely move a muscle. His neck hurt like hell, for one thing. But when his eyes wandered around the room, he found none other than Kira standing at the edge of the bed, with her head between her hands.

 

"Where are we?" he spoke, but his voice came out too throatily. God, he needed some water. What kind of nightmare had this been? And why was there a red stone lying on his chest?

 

But as soon as the nymph heard his voice, she turned around abruptly and her green eyes widened at the sight of him. Without hesitating, she threw her arms around him.

 

"Ow," he exclaimed, his neck still hurting. "Where the heck are we?"

 

But she looked too shocked to even speak. Her eyes glimmered with tears, and only one dared to run down her perfect, smooth skin.

 

"Hey," he whispered softly, trying to sit up a little, and wiped away the tear. "What gives?"

 

"You're back." she breathed out, hugging him again.

 

"Of course I'm back. I only took a nap. Gosh, what the hell did you smoke?"

 

And now she pulled back for good, looking at him with concern.

 

"Don't you… don't you remember what happened?"

 

"Remember wh –"

 

But before he could ask, all the memories came back to him. The test. The demon. Their argument. Had he…

 

"Did I die?" he mumbled, barely audible. And the nymph nodded, starting to tell him the story from the top, how Christopher had snapped his neck, how she'd taken him to a necromancer and how she waited around for hours for him to wake up. Of course, she did leave out the part where she'd killed eight guards, had a breakdown, threatened an old man and had a little chat with Christopher. Just insignificant details, she joked to herself. What he didn't know couldn't harm him.

 

"But you're okay now," she smiled at him. "That's all that matters."

 

Before he could open his mouth and ask something else, a tall, curly-haired man burst into the room, breathing heavily. From what Sebastian knew from Kira, he assumed this was her friend, Alexander.

 

"Bell," he gasped out, panic widening his bright hazel eyes. "You have to run."

 

"Run from what? What are you talking about? Alex, calm down."

 

"No, I'm serious, Bell. You have to go, the hunters are coming after you."

 

"The hunters?" Sebastian questioned. "But don't they think I'm dead? Why –"

 

"They're coming after me." Kira stated simply, gulping.

 

Oh. Now Sebastian remembered. The King knew about Kira.

 

"Where are they?" she asked the sorcerer.

 

"They just jumped over the fences, the werewolves caught their scents. They're about 10 or 12 hunters, and five guard dogs. They got flashlight and chains and everything. Seriously, Bell, you have to run."

 

"But why would they come after you with guns and guard dogs?" Sebastian inquired again. "You can't be killed anyway."

 

"They don't want me dead." she sighed. "They just want to catch me. Can you run?"

 

The question was addressed to Sebastian. "I guess." he shrugged.

 

"Wouldn't it be safer to leave him here?" Alex spoke, but the nymph shook her head in response.

 

"They'll find him. He's safer with me. Alex, you just go and make sure the others are safe. Sebastian," she turned to him and breathed out the next words. "Let's run."

 

***

 

To their own advantage, it was raining outside, so catching their scents wouldn't be easy for the hunters. But that was it, their one and only advantage, for Sebastian was still recovering and Kira had to slow down the pace for him. Frighteningly, their pursuers didn't get tired at all, and had apparently called reinforcements once they'd discovered Kira was on the run. Luckily enough, though, they hadn't noticed that Sebastian was with her. Bright spotlights pierced the darkness, armed guards ran behind them, ready to open fire at anything that moved. But the nymph had only one main point: to get the hunters as far as possible from her people's camp.

 

Eventually, they stopped behind a larger tree to let Sebastian catch his breath, but at least he was now thankful for all the times Kira had made him run around the fence.

 

"Where are we exactly going?" the young hunter questioned, struggling to catch his breath and looking behind cautiously.

 

"We have to part ways." Kira spoke all of a sudden, looking at him between the raindrops.

 

"What?" Sebastian shrieked. "No way, we are not –"

 

"They are not looking for you, Sebastian, and I don't want to risk them seeing you. Plus, you can't keep up with me. I can run fast enough and lead them as far away from the camps as I can." But he shook his head again, grabbing her hand and squeezing it tightly. "Please, Sebastian, there's no other way," she paused, cupping his face with her small hands. "Meet me at the camps."

 

They heard another bark coming from behind and knew there was no time left. They had to decide, and they had to decide now. Therefore, she tried to slowly let go of his hand, but in a swift move, he turned her around and brought their lips together, engaging into another vicious dance. And if it hadn't been for the clock ticking down on them, they'd never have pulled back.

 

"I'll see you there." she breathed out, resting her forehead against his. Sebastian nodded once, letting her know she could go, and with another stolen kiss, she pulled back and started running.

 

***

 

Kira hated herself for what she was doing. But at least, she would know it was the right thing.

 

Therefore, after parting ways with Sebastian, she ran in the hunters' direction, instead of running away. She approached them slowly, with her hands raised up in defense, and all of the guns were pointed at her.

 

"I'm turning myself in." she spoke out confidently, and the hunters wasted no minute before cuffing her.

 

***

 

Sebastian didn't even have to wait around in the camp for Kira before he realized she wasn't going to show up. He didn't know how he'd realized that, he just had.

 

"Sebastian," he heard someone call from behind, and turned around only to come face to face with Kira's best friend, Alexander.

 

"She's not coming, is she?" he said slowly, though he already knew the answer to that question.

 

The sorcerer shook his head, taking out a small piece of paper from his pocket.

 

"No, but she was here. And she left you this."

 

Hurriedly, Sebastian snatched the note from Alex's hands and read.

 

I wish I knew how to start this. But I honestly don't know how to apologize for what I'm about to do. You'll not understand, I'm sure of it, but you have to know, it's all for you. To keep you safe, you and the others, I have to take the hunters away from the camps. And the only way I can do that is to turn myself in. It hurts like hell to know that I have to let you go, especially now when I brought you back. But I have to. Even if it kills me.

 

21: Chapter 20 . It's All For You

 

"Where the bloody hell is she?"

 

An enraged voice roared through the open field, making everyone's heads shot up. Sebastian's neck hair rose up in fear, only anticipating what was to come. Christopher was here. And he was angry. A bold, or rather stupid werewolf tried to stop the demon, but only earned himself a snapped neck before he could even land a hand on Christopher.

 

"Where is Annabelle?" the demon yelled again, his voice garbled and eyes glistening with anger. He headed towards Alex's spot, next to Sebastian, and stopped right in front of the sorcerer. "Ah, Alexander, the most useless minion, perhaps you can inform me," he grabbed the sorcerer by the neck and lifted him up with only one hand. "Where is Annabelle? I've been looking everywhere for her, and she's neither in the human's city, nor here. I must speak with her." he squeezed Alex's neck harder, making his face turn almost purple.

 

"She's not here." Sebastian spoke, making the demon finally look at him, for the first time.

 

His eyebrows rose in surprise as he finally let go of the sorcerer. "Well, if it isn't the man of the day. Shouldn't you look more…dead?" Sebastian faked a laugh, crossing his arms over his chest, ready to speak, but Christopher continued. "Tell me this one little thing, though, cockroach. How does it feel, coming back from the death? Dark? Agonizing? I've heard it's quite the experience, travelling between words, coming back not quite as you were, but as a shadow, a walking dead body. Last time I saw someone coming back, it did not end well. Darkness took over, and eventually, the twisted side revealed itself. His demons controlled him, and not vice versa."

 

"Why don't you find someone less terrible to relate to, demon? Wasn't killing me enough, now you have to haunt my living days, too?" Sebastian spat, standing his ground.

 

Christopher simply laughed whole-heartedly at that. "I'm thousands of years old, call it boredom. Now," he smiled, looking around the vampires and werewolves and witches who'd gathered. "It seems you respond best to display of violence, so if you don't tell me the little nymph's location, I'll start tearing out some livers."

 

At an inhuman speed, he grabbed one of the witches' throat and held it between his hands, ready to snap it if he must.

 

"I told you she's not here," Sebastian spoke again, now staring at the demon warily. "And we don't know where she is either."

 

"I'm quite brassed off with lies, so you'd better speak, perhaps the truth this time."

 

"She turned herself in, let the hunters take her," Alex said after a pause. "We don't know why, she's only left us a letter."

 

The demon did not speak for a few brief seconds, before he let the witch go and turned his anger on Sebastian. "You consented to that?"

 

"Of course not," Sebastian hurried to say. "I had no say in it. She just left."

 

In a flash, Christopher was by his side, grabbing his neck. "Once again you prove you're not worthy of her. Because of your lack of tact, she's now probably being tortured in the King's filthy prisons. Mark my words, cockroach. I'll make sure she comes back unharmed, and when she is to return," he squeezed harder, bringing Sebastian's face closer before continuing. "She will return to me."

 

He let go of the hunter, letting him fall on the ground before turning on his heels and storming out. Sebastian touched his neck and let out a breath, feeling that darkness take over again. He wished to have the strength to fight back. He wished he could kill that demon, but not before feeling the life being drained out of his body, not before he could feel the demon's blood on his hands and –

 

Sebastian shook off those thoughts, not knowing what was happening to him. He refused to believe the demon's words. No, there could be no darkness taking over, there could be no twisted side of him. He could not let the light inside be dimmed. But he could not deny the fact that since Kira had been gone, he felt different. Different as in, if some Wicked creature dared to even blink wrong at him, he would want to rip out his or her throat out. Maybe living with the Wicked wasn't a life of ease, but they had showed nothing but kindness to him, probably because they all knew that he was their leader's protégée. Or just because they weren't as wicked as the hunters made them be. But this didn't help his newest urge. Never had he felt that, the desire to kill everything that stood in his way, not since he'd been brought back. And when he'd been with Kira, after he'd woken up in a necromancer's bed, when they'd run together, he hadn't felt it either. Probably because he had been with Kira, and he could not think such twisted thoughts when being around her. Now he understood how she must've felt like, all this time.

 

"I hate to say it," Emmett's voice brought him back. "But this fancy-pansy talking demon is right."

 

"What are you suggesting?" Alex said, probably a little bit too harshly than he'd intended.

 

"Emmett's right," Sebastian spoke, too. "We can't stand here while she's out there, going through God knows what."

 

"Are you even listening to yourselves?" Alex snapped. "Annabelle Maxwell is one of the most feared creatures in the entire state. Hell, maybe the entire world. She could get out of there in an instant."

 

"Then why hasn't she? It's been two weeks." Sebastian inquired, feeling the anger growing. No, not again. He could not let the darkness take over.

 

Alex shrugged. "Perhaps she has a plan. She always does. Maybe we should trust her more. Plus, our final attack is coming, and it will all be over soon. And when we strike, we'll make sure she gets out of there unharmed," he stopped, taking a step towards Sebastian and putting a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry. The hunters should be the scared ones, for keeping such a dangerous creature locked up. Soon, she'll break free. I know so."

 

Sebastian wished he could believe the sorcerer. But it was hard to do so when worry ate him up, and when thousands of questions popped up in his mind. What if Christopher found her first? What if the hunters or the King found a way to kill her? What if he came too late?

 

That night, he barely slept. He couldn't help but think of her, even though he did not want to. She was something better held far within, inside places that had no names, because that was where he'd found her. In the safest places that this world could not undo, a place where he knew he would never let go of her. She was his only anchor and he would find her. He had to believe that. Wherever she was, he would find her.

 

***

 

Kira spat the blood from her mouth in the guard's face, making him cringe and pull back.

 

"Crazy bitch," he muttered under his breath, wiping the blood away from his face.

 

"Is that all you got?" she laughed in his face, showing her bloodied teeth. But before she could talk again, the guard punched her over and over again, only so he could make her shut up. After two weeks, it was like a routine. They would wake her up at 5 in the morning, get her out of her cell, tie her to a chair and torture her till nightfall. And then, at 8 PM, they would bring her back in that dirty and stinky cell and leave her there. But no matter how many daggers they drove through her chest or shoulders or neck, or how many punches she received, she wouldn't even scream in pain, let alone give away her army's plan, as the King wanted her to. No, she would rather die than do that. Not that dying was an option, anyway.

 

But today was different. Today, the guard who was responsible for her usual beating tried a different kind of torture.

 

"How is it, bitch? How is it to know that you're all alone, without your whiny little boyfriend?" She tried not to look at him, and closed her eyes, counting to ten. "What was his name again?" he punched her again. "Sebastian?" Another punch. "Who cares anyway?" Another one. "It's not like anyone's gonna miss him, not even his family."

 

The guard laughed, giving the nymph two more punches.

 

"Still not gonna talk? Don't worry, you'll chirp eventually."

 

And with one finale punch, he ended her session of torture for the day and dumped the former huntress back in that cell. It took all of her mental strength not to break free and punch that bag of muscles in his face, especially when it was so easy to break free of those ties. But she had to stay focused on her mission. She was here for a reason, to keep her people safe.

 

Just like every night, Kira sat alone in her cell, with no one to keep her company but her thoughts. And, naturally, she had nothing else to think about but Sebastian. His name was a general state of mind. Something that she kept hidden at the back of her mind for those times when she got her hopes raised up about anything. So she could slap herself into reality and remind herself that the world was a cruel place and people didn't always get what they wanted. Maybe she should've closed her eyes and let their whole story slough off her, but instead she had let their fierceness burn now holes in her lungs until the image of all that they had been became stamped on the back of her brain. And now, whether her eyes were open or shut tight, all that was left was him name.

 

In the morning, surprisingly enough, Kira woke up on her own. There were no guards to yank her up and take her into another dark room, where she could not see a single ray of sunshine. No, she was now standing alone in her cell, with a dish of food laid next to her.

 

"I thought you might be hungry." Kira heard a feminine voice speak and recognized it in a second. How could she not? It was planted in her mind anyway.

 

Surely enough, when Kira looked up, she found none other than the flawless face of Queen Adeline staring back at her.

 

"Hello, Annabelle."

 

Even her voice was melodic, Kira remarked, just as she remembered.

 

"Hello, mother."

 

The Queen smiled sadly at her daughter and crept closer. There was no wonder that no one had noticed that the two nymphs were daughter and mother. Both were perfect in their beauty, absolutely flawless, but their aspects and personalities were different. The Queen's eyes were as blue as the royal blood that flowed through a true Queen's veins, as blue as the streams of a glacier. As blue as her feeling. While the huntress' eyes were as green as the lush jungle. The Queen's hair was a golden fire burning brighter than the sun on a midsummer day, whilst Kira's hair was as black as a wintry night. The mother was gracious, elegant, as similar as an angel to be mistaken for one. The daughter was ferocious in her beauty, a deadly sin. They were so different, yet their beauty was as radiant as a thousand suns.

 

"I certainly hoped that we would meet again under different circumstances." Queen Adeline spoke again.

 

"Well, you know me." Kira laughed, shrugging playfully. Maybe, deep down, she'd hope that she would not reunite with her mother like this, either. She was filthy and dirty, and probably stinking like a pig, while her mother looked as elegant as ever, in her green evening gown.

 

After ten years, Kira still remembered that night like it was yesterday. She still remembered how the guards burst in and took her parents, while she hid under their bed and watched the whole scene. No begs and no pleads made the hunters let her parents go. And for a brief amount of time, the nymph had thought that both of her parents were dead. But when she'd finally become a huntress and walked into the throne's room with a werewolf's head in her hands and saw her mother standing right next to the person that she hated the most, King Gabryell, Kira could not hide her surprise. But her mother remained as still as a stone and stared with cold eyes at her daughter. And then Kira put one and one together. The hunters had only killed her father, sparing Adeline's life at the King's order. Fascinated by her beauty, King Gabryell wanted the nymph only for himself, holding her now captive against her will. At first it had been pretty hard for Kira to believe that this monster, who claimed to hate the supernaturals so much, had married a nymph. But then again, maybe no one knew about this. Maybe the King had kept her wife's identity a secret, so no one would know what a great 'sin' he had committed. That made more sense. One thing didn't though. Why would her mother stand still, without fighting back? That didn't sound at all like her. To that question, Kira had never gotten her answer. But now, maybe she could.

 

"Came to bail me out of jail, mom?" Kira joked, smiling bitterly.

 

"Listen, child," the Queen cut her daughter off. "We don't have much time. I have to get you out of here."

 

"Oh, no, no, no," Kira hurried to stop her mother from reaching for the keys and letting her go. "I don't need your help."

 

Adeline stared confused at the nymph, narrowing her blue eyes. "Then what do you want? You want an apology, an explanation?"

 

Kira laughed humorlessly, resting her head on the metallic bars of her cell. "What's there to explain? You are now the King's pet and you've forgotten everything about your past life."

 

"Annabelle, you know it's not like that –"

 

"Isn't it?" Kira challenged. "Because if it hadn't been, then you would've fought back, you would've done everything possible to free yourself from this monster. You're a Wicked creature, for God's sake. He couldn't have kept you here against your will."

 

And now all of her anger, everything that she'd kept inside for so long, was coming to the surface. Maybe an explanation was needed after all, Kira thought.

 

"He offered me a choice," the older nymph spoke calmly. She looked more like a queen than a mother, Kira remarked. "Either die valiantly or become his wife. And I did not want to die, child. For you, I wanted to live, in the hopes that I might see you again, that I could make sure you were alright."

 

"For me," Kira repeated cynically, shaking her head in disbelief. "Well, here I am, mother. You saw me. Now you can go."

 

"Annabelle –"

 

"Don't Annabelle me," she spat angrily. "I thought you were dead. I mourned you. Half-assed apologies won't make it better now."

 

"Then what do you want me to do?" Adeline whispered with tears now glistening in her beautiful eyes.

 

"You want to help me? Fine, here's how. Prove that you are not the King's pet. Prove me, or prove yourself, that you are not some animal that can be kept on a tight leash. Show them your true face, mother. Show them the monster."

 

And the nymph told her mother exactly how to do that.

 

***

 

A week after her chat with her daughter, Queen Adeline sat in the bed she shared with that monster of her husband and looked at the clock. 11 PM. Show time.

 

Just like Annabelle had told her. One simple move and that was it. Her captivity years would come to an end. Her capturer was breathing regularly but rapidly, snorting. Utterly unconscious. You'd think that for someone who slept next to a Wicked creature, he would be more careful. If she were to do it, she had to do it now, when his sleep was deepest.

 

Take him down, was what her daughter had said to her. For all that he'd done.

 

Little did Annabelle know that this was a gift. Now she could have her vengeance. It was all so well planned. Adeline turned onto her side, staring at the naked man sleeping inches away. He had been so smug, so arrogant, a king certain of his crown, that he hadn't even suspected a thing. The nymph slid her hand beneath her pillow as she crept closer to her husband, nestling against him. His breathing remained deep and steady.

 

Therefore, in one quick motion, Adeline sliced the knife across Gabryell's throat.

 

"The King is dead," the nymph whispered to herself, smiling cruelly. "Long live the Queen."

 

 

 

AN: BAM! plot twist on the horizon. Take that!

Anyway, you know i would reaaaaally appreciate if you could tell me what you think of this chapter or story or anything and it would also encourage me to write more, so don't hesitate, kay? See ya!

Until the next chapter, rock on!