Gaffriel 43

We arrived across the country in a flash, dim evening light replacing our sunny spring afternoon. A chill suffused the air, the humid sort that carried the stink of humans and pollution with it. Niala went in ‘game mode.’ Her muscles tensed, and her aura spiked hard. If I wasn’t focused on something and filled with other emotions at the moment, I’d have forgotten she stood next to me. Her eyes blazed, their blue brighter in the dim light as I took in our surroundings. We stood on a rooftop, and tall buildings caged us in. It felt claustrophobic.

“We get in, we do what we need, and we meet back here. We hide up here while Niala runs oblivion to keep anyone away until I can travel again.” Thanus inventoried his body. With enough GPS data, satellite photos, and collective thought, he could get us pretty spot on. I’d toyed with rough light, myself, and found it unlike what they taught me. Instead, I found it different and better.

I nodded, swallowing hard as Krell darted off to a main electrical line on the building and began to scale a small post to be able to lay his hands on wires.

“Power goes out; they go on lockdown, usually,” Nodak commented for my benefit. Something just didn’t feel right.

“Aura down, Gaff. We don’t want everyone crying while we’re doing what we have to,” Quinn grumbled. I hadn’t realized.

Someone confirmed the electrical outage after a short cracking arc. Electric fires were some of the better ones to have in today’s day and age. They had a lot more control than just shocking things, and I felt a little jealous, but I found uses for my own flames every day.

Thanus went first, cracking open the roof door with a short shoulder jab. Nodak and Krell went in after. Quinn barreled through, and Niala and I bolted in tow.

They drew their weapons, as did I. I liked doing this; I found killing to be easy. Getting shot wasn’t.

Instincts told us that ‘they’re just humans,’ but that was the last thing we were ever supposed to think. All life, no matter how short-lived, no matter how strange, was sacred; we were all written by our creator’s ink. But, We called ourselves the sword, not the hand wielding it. We took money in exchange for the bidding of those who wanted others gone.

As I raced down chipped linoleum stairs looking at dilapidated walls and smelled the cloying chemical odor of whatever lab they had in there, I thought of all the ink they’d spill if we didn’t strike them out first.

It started with gunfire. Krell flinched, struck by a bullet, jolting back as lead flurried at him. Nodak cut in front of him, shoved Krell back, and leaped forward, knife in hand. A quick slice across the throat and scramble later, Nodak had a gun, and Krell staggered to his feet. He huffed, unscathed, and bolted again. A retort of fire came from Nodak, a quick spray as shouts rang out. Niala busted through a fire door on her own path, and I followed.

I knew Niala used agility to her advantage and always went for the neck or ankles when she could. I’d just never seen her do what she did, leaping bold-faced at men as they bustled up from tables full of cash and drew firearms that hit the floor faster than they could engage them. A shot rang out, missing her by a hair. Turning, her eyes glowed that fierce black as her fires boiled in her. I knew my hazel eyes turned red when my fire triggered, but hers deepened into their own empty abyss.

The bundles of cash sat there, too fucking tempting, and I grabbed a handful with a discrete swipe, stuffing it into one of the pockets of my cargo pants. Ten-thousand dollars of banded hundreds are surprisingly portable.

“I’ll get the ch-“ one started. I won’t finish the word that the man said. We’d heard that word used on Niala before and had it explained to us. It stung less than Rolyn’s comment. I don’t think it bothered her, but the man tugged a gun out of sagging pants and flashed bare arms full of vulgar tattoos that had no life meaning to him.

“Ginger!” Someone shouted, and against all rationality, I turned my head just in time to see a barrel flash. Two quick punches struck my chest, stung, radiated warmth as I stumbled and heard the quiet plinks of metal hitting the ground.

Everything within me turned on, triggered, and ready.

My knife wrist stiffened; my legs felt strong, and I ran into the fray. I found something cold, vindicating, and raw about the resistance of a knife through flesh. I missed this.

Yes, I stumbled. Yes, I made a few close calls and got hit by stray bullets a time or two too many. Niala’s eyes, so black, so fierce, caught my own. I realized why they kept sticking out to me, not because I looked for them, but because they kept looking at me, focusing on me as I let my instincts take over. My heart twisted tight in my chest at just the thought of her being concerned. I liked to catch her staring.

We went through the room in an instant as I jerked a knife through someone’s side. Kiromir was right… it did smell bad.

The next room, like the last, went by in a flurry. I leaped over the top of some sort of sorting table and crashed it to the floor, pinning someone hiding and trying to reload. We had a brief moment of eye contact before Niala’s knife swept by and ended it. I’d never seen a throat slit so close up before. Of course, I never looked at what it did, but Niala barreled through, catlike, graceful.

She made it a dance, coarse movements with practiced ease and proficiency. If she could get the element of surprise, she had her kill in an instant. She didn’t toy with her victims.

Gunfire rang through the hall. Nodak shouted; Krell shouted. Thanus barked orders. Something didn’t feel right, and we both had our heads turned, ears canted towards the sound. Niala jerked her shoulder, and the man she’d been pinning went limp.

We both bolted towards it by instinct.

I felt something, another aura. I didn’t recognize it. Pure rage filled us, and we both shook our heads clear of it, looking towards one another.

“Who is that?” I asked.

“Dunno. Nobody good,” She muttered before bounding down two halls, through some stairway doors, and towards where we heard the sounds.

Bodies littered the halls, ones we didn’t claim.

Krell or Nodak’s work didn’t look like that. Strange rotting patches slapped across throats and into chests with careless abandon. We both recognized the edge of a healer’s fire, used against itself. Healers fires held the potential for terrible things when weaponized. It wasn’t until being offered to chase the fire of a healer did you remember what gore they possessed the potential for.

“We’ve got others here,” Niala said, and I could see her shoulders twitching beneath her shirt. First, her wings wanted to lash, then so did mine.