bowstringed.
if that stirs a modicum of relief, he doesn’t show it. only pockets the stele again, slowly, eyeing her the way he would any predator that suddenly retracts its claws — or in her case, fangs. mutual distrust and anticipatory violence seem to be their only common ground.
but they have a common enemy. at least there’s that.
“don’t do that again,” he snaps. “this isn’t a game. you can act cavalier all you want, doesn’t change the fact that you wouldn’t have showed up at all if you weren’t worried.” because he knows her type. because she looks out for herself, and only herself, and that is the only reason she’s here. “— start walking.”
if he were any lesser of a being, she could’ve twisted that pretty head of his right on his neck. snap it in a second flat, if that. then feed and feed like a glutton on that delectable smelling blood.
if only.
“a word of caution, little angel,” katherine moves to him with a speed just shy of unnerving. not a full ability or showcase of her prowess. not even a threat. just a tease. a game, if you will. her fingertips trail down the center of his chest. “you’re right. more or less. i showed up because i wanted to be here. not because your little angel squad summoned me and expected me to heel like an unruly bitch on a leash. you want me to walk? you first. you and all your authority.”
