My Darkening Ember

Chapter Four

The assassin lunged, slicing his knives side to side. I watched Xander dodge it, before striking with his blade. He didn't even look strained as he was doing it. I could tell who was more experienced. I had never seen a man fight like this before but it was clear who had the advantage. 

Xander's moves were clear and precise like they had a purpose. The assassin was wild, obviously trained, but not against a Mile man. It was as if he was just fighting blindly, hoping one of his hits would be fatal. He barred his teeth as he stuck forward and Xander caught his hand, slashing his knife into his ribs.

The hunter grunted as Xander's blade drew blood and tumbled back as Xander allowed, releasing his grip. He nursed a hand over the wound under his coat and looked up, or more like through his brows with a fury. There was no winning against Xander and I could see he knew that.

I sat up on my elbows, my sudden move catching his eye. The assassin turned with a desperate look in his eye before he, with a swift move, threw his knife at me. I saw it coming, and like a bird, through the air, it flew toward me. The sound was like the rapid wind. Someone moved. 

I gasped, closing my eyes.

Dead.

I felt someone over me, blocking the sun. I dared to look. The blade was suspended in the air as if someone had just stopped time, inches from my face. I inhaled like I couldn't get enough air. My stomach was in my throat.

My eyes darted to Xander, standing almost above me looking down, his bloody palm was wrapped around the blade. Our eyes met, just briefly. Then he spun once, throwing it back so fast I didn't even see it dig into the guy's shoulder. It all happened so quickly.

The assassin fell to his knees, wincing as he pulled the knife out. I would dare say it nearly missed his heart.

Xander finally drew his other weapon. The silver pistol flashed in his hand. He was serious and cold as he approached the hunter, who was holding one hand over his wound. He didn't rise.

"Who sent you?" Xander sneered, aiming his pistol.

"She is wanted," the hunter said, ignoring Xander's question. His eyes locked with mine.

"Dead or alive."

My mouth dropped. Somebody did want me dead. This was madness.

Madness.

I struggled to get on my feet and regretted that I tried. My legs were shaking and my heart was beating so fast I heard it in my ears. I felt wobbly, unsteady. He would kill me.

They could kill you.

"Who!?" Xander sneered again. His patience was spent as the assassin's lips sealed into a thin line. 

Xander cocked the gun and aimed it at his eye.

"I won't ask again," he warned, but still nothing. The man seemed to have gone silent forever.

"Fine, you'll be free at last." I only saw the assassin lift his head, welcoming death before Xander fired.

My whole body flinched at the sound.

One bullet straight through his eye. A quick death. My eyes started flickering and my body violently shook. Cold shivers overwhelmed me and everything blurred. His brain scattered. The blood, so much blood. The head...hollow. Limp body, blood, dead, very dead.

I wanted to vomit but I didn't make it as I suddenly saw black.

I must have fainted as I awoke to nightfall. Leaning against a rock, and a warm bonfire was in front of me. I sat up, my numb hands were tied and my mouth was still tasting the cloth that was no longer there.

His horse was laying on its stomach and there he was, resting up against it.

Xander, the Mile man. His eyes were closed, hands in his lap, clutching his silver pistol.

He wasn't as pale in this light. His hat was on the ground to his side, exposing his curly brown hair.

He looked human without the hat. More attractive than any man I'd ever seen, but he looked like a man now.

His eyebrows were bushy, and his rosy lips hid beneath a stubble beard. His eyes were like that of a wolf's but narrower. Depictions from home showed their eyes full of evil, snarling with sharp teeth. His were the same, the eyes. Dark and evil.

He almost looked normal...almost.

"Eat," he grunted and I shook, almost fainting again from the surprise.

He kept his eyes closed.

"Gods have mercy," I prayed and moaned as the tight ropes around my hands were restricting the blood flow.

His eyes opened, already looking in my direction with a blank unreadable expression.

"Eat," he repeated.

I looked down, seeing a small bowl full of oats sitting at the edge of the fire. It didn't look appetizing and considering I had just seen a man get his brains blown out, food was the last on my mind.

I gagged.

"Not to your standards?" He mocked.

I exhaled in disbelief. "I just witnessed a murder and you patronize me for not eating your food? It could be laced with poison." I sneered to my surprise. I clenched my jaw for fear that he could stab my eyes out or do other vile things.

Easy now.

"If I wanted to kill you I would've done it the minute I laid eyes on you," he said, keeping an unsettling calm while leaning forward. Those dangerous two-coloured eyes stared into my soul, making me believe he could see everything in my mind. He would've killed me.

Would've...could.

"Or I could just have let him kill you. That would have been the highlight of my day." He leaned back, unbothered, and closed his eyes again.

"Vile," I murmured under my breath, furrowing before carefully examining the bowl of oat. I was starving and there was some logic to his comment even if it was vile. If he wanted or needed to kill me, I would be very much dead. But here I was, tied up, breathing, and being fed.

I relented. The second the first bite hit my tongue my whole body screamed for more. I had forgotten that I hadn't eaten for almost a full day.

I consumed it all in minutes.

"Who was he?" I asked, managing to scrape my bowl.

"A slaved hunter." He replied to my surprise. It was the first piece of information he had given me.

"A what?" I had never heard about them before. The only hunters I knew of were independent contractors and the Mile men.

"South territory slave hunters under contract to serve until they earn release or die." He said in a single breath while crossing his arms, not making an effort in pleasing the conversation.

I looked away, trying to remember what Xander had said to him. You will be free at last.

"It was your life or his." He said as if he had just read my mind. "He couldn't stop until he got you or killed you." He put his hat back on his head, tilting it just right, to shadow his eyes.

"How did you get that sketch of me?"

He had shown me a piece of paper with my name and face on it. I needed to know if it was the Rockwells who hired him.

He tilted his hat back again to watch me. "It's been posted all over." He said after a long pause of just staring.

I frowned. "Is it from the Rockwells?" My face was so desperate for an honest answer. Through the dark, I saw his eyes narrow.

He said nothing for a long while. His face told me nothing.

But at last, he leaned his head back, tilting his hat further down his face, murmuring, "I don't know anything about any Rockwells." And that was it.

He didn't speak for the rest of the night.

I didn't get much sleep as my thoughts were trained on who else could want me.

I owned nothing. Nothing but my name.