1 Introduction: The Third Encounter

Our eyes lock.

The chill of the concrete below me contrasts the heat of the figure above me. Not the most comfortable way to sit, but that's not where my mind is right now.

"For a supposedly smart guy, you make some incredibly stupid choices, you know that?" She says, mocking me. I really hope she's not about to do anything crazy. As if gripping a hand around my neck and sitting herself on top of me wasn't crazy enough.

In this dim alleyway, a flame burns in the black after dark. Her blazing hair hangs over my shoulders, ignited by the moonlight above her. The fire in her eyes blinds me, and the heat of her breath melts me. My racing heart and rampant mind are kept in check only by the metronome of her movements; the intoxicating rhythm in the rise and fall of her chest.

My trance is broken by the hurried footsteps that echo into the alley. Panic overwhelms me. This is bad. They're getting closer. They're going to find us.

"Shit!" Her eyes break from mine to check our surroundings. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. "Guess they heard us. Hey. Look at me. Just follow my lead and don't do anything stupid."

What sort of stupid could I possibly do? I don't think I have a choice, though. Whoever these guys are, I already thought they looked dangerous earlier, and now we're about to be the center of their attention.

"They're going to see us, anyway." She says dryly, followed by an unexpectedly alluring tone, "Let's make them NOT want to see. Play along if you know what's good for you."

The fingers against my shoulders and neck slide down to my chest. She curls my shirt in her grip, and the hold that was pinning me down is now pulling me up. The breath that previously clouded above me now tastes in an alarmingly sudden kiss. The quiver of her moans quake against my tongue. More and more resonates throughout my body as she gets louder and louder. How could this scene get any more dangerous?

The footsteps stop at the edge of the alley. In my head, alarms are sounding. Not so much for our pursuers, however. If anything, in the corner of my eyes, the three Demons are now relaxing. My gaze locked on a hand that the lead Demon had behind his back, as if reaching for something. It slowly lowers to his side.

"Hey! Punks!" The supposed lead shouts at us. "Get a room. Actually, even better—get a job. Get the fuck out of here and make sure I don't see you again." And then they walk away.

My momentary reprieve doesn't last long. Show's over, curtains down. Her lips release me, but her one, single fang doesn't. Most Demons trying to blend into society choose to file their fangs down to be less conspicuous. Given her opinion on the matter, I can guess why she kept one. It doesn't make it hurt any less, though.

She pulls away, wiping off my blood trailing down her smile. My mouth is going to hurt like hell later, I tell myself. I'm only joking, of course, because her hand at my hips imply otherwise. She let it go earlier because of our intruders, but now that they're gone, she reaches to pick it back up.

"Pfft. That guy. When I'm finished, he's definitely never going to see me again. Or anyone else, for that matter. He's going to pay." She says with knives in her voice. "As for you, let's get back to where we left off."

I should have just listened to my friend. If I had, he'd probably still be alive to tell me "I told you so." Talking to the new girl is turning into the worst mistake of my life.

I've been taught that when faced with adversity, always try to find the silver lining. In the current situation, I wish it wasn't so damn literal. The metallic surface in this moonlit spotlight is definitely silver, alright.

Here's my silver lining—right down the barrel of her gun.