Don't Let Them Catch You

32• Justice

{disclaimer, nasty injury scene included in this chapter}

Mammon recoiled like a snake.

In a flash, he crouched on his haunches as though preparing to attack. Leathery wings folded behind his back as he clutched a knife in each hand.

"I killed your witches in their sleep. So don't bother calling for back up." Oh had he ever been so happy to hear her voice.

Amos glanced behind himself to find the three witches lying in their own steadily growing pool of blood. A single deep red gnash on each of their necks, faces suspended in peaceful expressions of sleep that they didn't deserve.

Tainted blood, polluted with something dark leaked in Aura's direction, swallowing her feet.

His nose twitched at the stench it gave off, as though it were rotten. It didn't even tempt his appetite.

Aura didn't spare it a glance, her gaze was fixed and focused on the demon before her.

Are you okay?

Her voice was like honey, gently leaking into his mind. He felt like he could breathe again. Whatever prevented him from hearing her before was gone.

I've been worse. He responded.

I'm going to tear him apart.

A chill came over him, and Amos questioned where the sudden drop in temperature came from. His gut pulled him towards her in response and something stirred in his chest.

"Aura..." He didn't recognise his own tone of voice. Free from bindings, he let his body ease into movement, tensed and relaxed his legs, feeling for wounds.

She didn't respond. The woman was unmoving, like a statue.

"Just what do you think you're going to do?" Mammon mused. Amos had to admire his efforts to hide any wariness about his sudden predicament.

Still she didn't respond.

She just watched him, as though she were searching for something.

"I'm going to kill you."

"Step in line." Amos retorted, at the same time Mammon snorted a biting laugh.

The fallen one straightened to his full height. His limbs were sore, his head was splitting, but she needed him. Whether she was aware of it or not.

"You're going to kill me." Mammon chuckled, his eerie white eyes narrowing slyly. "Do you seriously think a couple years of sparring with dogs is going to teach you how to fight someone who's known millions of years? I came before the age of men. I don't think you understand what that means."

A beat of silence.

"I do." She responded, quietly. "I understand perfectly."

When she took a brazen step forward, Amos almost choked. He made a move to reach for her but stopped midway. Something was different. He didn't know if it was the sight of her toes dripping with blood or her palms arching as white light gathered around her fingers. Something in his gut told him not to interfere.

"Was it fun for you?" She asked, her eyes devoid of emotion.

"Was what?" Mammon's head cocked to the side.

"Killing your brothers."

A hush so quiet befell them that even the forest was silent. Mammon's sly eyes betrayed nothing, they stayed narrowed into slits, watching her every move carefully, eyeing the lights that started to dance around her arms.