The Moon's Fangs | 1

14 | line drawn

The warm, honeyed liquid kissed my lips a fraction of a second before everything spiraled.

The drapes concealing the entrance swayed with movement, pulling our attention in that direction. "Don't tell me you're back already, D," Nolan said, keeping his hand on my thigh while propping his other elbow up on the top of the couch as he turned to look over his shoulder.

That was when a dark figure came into view in his blind spot, but not in mine.

If it wasn't for the altered-calm, my heart would've stopped upon locking with the intruder's deadly gaze.

Reks.

Adorned in all black with a mask covering his mouth and nose, he raised a single finger towards his hidden mouth and slowly shook his head. He pressed a hand down on my glass. Awe-stricken, I stared up at him in obedient silence.

His midnight hair was slicked back, matching both his uniform and those eyes that somehow swallowed all the light.

Out of all the places I could have been hidden within this vast underground city, the assassin found me. He sought me out far quicker than I imagined feasible.

"Hm. Guess it was just a false a—"

Nolan's sentence suddenly cut short as the vitiate's fist cracked against the side of his face the moment he turned back to face me. Nolan spun from the impact, his drink shattering in a wide spray across the table, splashing against the flower's protective container.

I flinched, losing my own drink to the floor as Reks vaulted over the couch.

Where on a normal day I would have screamed or gasped out, or tried to stop them, I instead remained seated, far more composed than the situation called for. My altered reactions were similar to someone sitting at home watching a movie.

~Blazing stars!~ Nox freaked out for both of us. ~Once the altered-calm leaves your system in four minutes, you are absolutely going to flip out.~

A black handgun with intricate whorls of amber detailing appeared in Nolan's grip with professional-like speed. But Reks was on top of him faster than he could aim. He rammed into him, knocking the gun free.

Nolan spat a curse, kicking the rim of the table at an upward angle. Glass flung in every direction, obstructing my view. I recoiled from the shards.

Nolan tried to create distance, pulling a second handgun from under his long coat.

My eyes widened as he trained his sights on Reks. The look in his provoked expression foretold there would be no hesitation when pulling the trigger. In that fleeting moment, the realization hit me. This sweet and goofy guy I met had experience with a gun. He had used one during the attack on Earth. The lack of hesitation meant he likely killed before too.

Even still and without a weapon of his own, Reks charged him.

"No, don't—" I sedately begged.

A blue whip lashed out of nowhere and snagged the barrel of the gun, which ignited turbulent sparks. Nolan applied pressure to the trigger, but black smoke furled up as it rapidly popped with amber sparks. The strange whip coiled tighter and tighter around the barrel, crushing it like an anaconda would around its prey.

Nolan sucked air through clenched teeth, dropping the gun from his blistering red hand. It fizzled as it plopped to the floor in a mangled ruin. The scent of burning ozone quickly filled the room.

I flinched but didn't move as the snake-like whip retracted back into... Reks. Back into... him. Like a reverse Spider-Man, the tendril pulled back into his skin at the wrist. Unbleeding scars sealed back shut where the whip disappeared back into his body.