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As his feet hit asphalt, he dropped slowly into a crouch because there they were His gaze followed the pale, blue-tinged creatures as they e from the left T of the alley--death va rasp, within their thrall They were the mythical yet very real creatures of darkness that hunted victiht to hide the faint bluish cast to their skin The undead Oh, they breathed, their hearts beat, but the basic belief in right and wrong had long since been shoveled into the ground and eaten by worotten buried in the addiction to dying blood, a hunger worse than heroin, nicotine, Jack Daniel’s, and ether
Kerrick stretched his preternatural vision and saw the blood ss, lips, cheeks, and chins, a red trophy of the hunt Three of them Where was the fourth?
The sun was barely set, still dusk, and these three bastards had no doubt just killed aat each other like drunken buddies co The alley, with chain link on one side and the ass-end of a worn-out strip center on the other, didn’t provide anonymity for the denizens of Second Earth, which ive a fuck if they were seen
Christ
They were also in their ht now, steroid-like, ripe with death These va he was here Only a handful of warriors were big enough, strong enough, fast enough to deal with these assholes, and he was one of theht he could reht Hiswas on the wind Soht arm, heavy with ht of his sword Using his ed metal into his hand from a secured weapons locker in the baserip wrapped with leather to fit his fingers, the wicked weight, the balance This was his sword, bonded only to hied carbon-steel blade meant for destruction
His wing-locks began to thruroin and tightened his balls He wore flight gear, sturdy black sandals strapped all the way to the knees with shin guards, a thick black leather kilt, and a heavy studded harness, also black leather, buckled down at the waist, running straight up his chest, over his shoulders, and down his spine to allow for his wings In the front a slot in the harness held a dagger at the exact angle necessary for his left reach On each wrist he wore a studded black leather guard
He withdrew the dagger now and started flipping the weapon end-over-end, catching the handle each ti the throw in rhythm to the sla time They were his closest friends and he only traded them in for new ones when there just wasn’t ht hand A razor-like dagger flipping in his left Life got no better than this
With a thought, he swelled the h the locks, an orgase of hs down to his feet then upward through his groin, his abs, his shoulders and arht, another reason he could fight these bastards--Warriors of the Blood had god-like wings, fit for battle
Good Life was good
His gaze hadn’t wavered a diamond cut from his prey He could have lifted into the air, swooped, then severed each head before a second had passed No, he wanted these night-feeders to pay for the lives they’d robbed, to know at least a moment of terror before their carbon-based DNA returned to Mother Earth, any dimension As the Creator was his witness, he’d always make the his cargoes and grinning, his skin so pale and edged with blue that he looked translucent in the diht of Kerrick and alerted the others As a group they turned in his direction
Gas sprouted from each of the vae as his Swords flashed into hands, folded fro the day
He created a powerful mist, which would keep what needed to happen well away from the eyes or ears of any nearby mortal Mist, when present, worked on the e mortal, or even ascender for thatcovered in le brisk doard thrust then shot straight up into the air to float about thirty feet above He waited, wings wafting, heart calain Flip Flip Flip Catch The gentle touch of his fingers to the dagger hilt a deadly, lethal pressure ready for release The forefinger of his right hand stroked the crossguard of his sword
The charge ca into the air, a coordinated squadron coift--speed He became a blur and sliced in crisscross patterns until he severed a wing and a body fell He caught one death vah on the torso and took the head as well as the shoulder and part of a wing
Two on the ground
Two to go
The latter were er and caught the left vas ensued as the pretty-boy lost control Meanwhile the reed steel Kerrick’s arood it felt He allowed the vamp to show his skills as he s, thrust of feet, fall of his sword ar to sustain the che his brain with a whole lot of feel-good
With a flurry the death vaht his sword in an upswing, threw his arm in a circle in order to catch his opponent’s arrasp The force of the blow and the sudden lack of seight sent his opponent flipping over twice before his wings caught air
But it was too late