Who the hell was this enigmatic man? Out of the darkness he came, with the feel of death and loaded threats. Clearly not a friend to her foe, he was a variable that the diminutive death dealer had not accounted for, and one that she had not fully figured out how to utilize to maximum effectiveness. His thread left a sour taste in her mouth, but intrigue in her mind.
This was not going according to plan, it was not going to plan at all. One twist after another had left Catriona off kilter, and there was nothing in the world that frustrated her more than that.
Her face was a wore expression of curiosity, intrigue and bloodlust. It all combined on her aristocratic features, forming a picture of perfect petulance.
The night air wafted around her, carrying the scents of debauchery. All it did was fuel the anger within her. For the first time in a very long time, Catriona was allowing instinct to rear its head, as opposed to her staunch control, conditioned with tactics and strategy.
This was a hunt, this was vengeance, this was the taking of a life in order to save the world. She would not be stopped.
Fire had been a deterrent, and she had taken note of the healing that had begun after her knife being removed from his chest. Next time she would do better, she would be better. Learn from your mistakes, take it as a learning experience and make the most of it. And she would do just that.
The other figure held her interest, but only so much as him being a possible ally or foe. Beyond that there was no use or interest. Was he a tool or a roadblock? She was sure that she would find out sooner or later.
Hair billowed around her head as she walked. The dark halo of the angel of death.
She still wanted to shove her face into his knife forty times, but would settle for fire in this case.
His trail home was clear, she would have had to have been blind and unable to smell in order to miss it. Luckily, she was neither of those things and it was readily clear as she slowly traipsed down the street, taking her time.
It lead her to a rundown building. Old, and wooden. Cat figured he was resourceful enough to have put himself out at this point, but had plans that caused that to matter little.
She wanted to draw him out, to hit him while he was hurt, to prevent him from going to ground and getting a chance to heal.
Utilizing her vast acrobatic skill, she pulled a lit gas lamp down from atop its perch. Tilting it slightly, she dumped a small amount of the fluid around the wooden base of the building. Casting a quick look around. The fire brigade would either come or they wouldn’t, that wasn’t of much concern to Cat. Her target was one person….one creature, and she fully planned to put an end to his insufferable live this night.
The flames licked up the wood structure as smoke drifted against the black night sky, eerily illuminated by the nearly full moon.
She watched, and she waited.
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