A gloved hand reached out, fingers were exposed as the black leather had been cut at the knuckles for easy mobility. Those fingers curled around a small pouch that hung from the dead man’s belt. From the weight of it and the slight clicking sound within, it could be told what lay within: a fairly nice amount of silver. The pouch was stuffed into the pocket of a black leather trench coat the man’s assassin wore as he casually stepped over the body and walked away from the scene. Another job well done.

The figure walked slowly down the alley and onto the main street. Torches brightened up the night as if it were day. People still wandered around, going about their business; whatever that may be. Green orbs glanced around indifferently. Those people did not mean a thing. They were just cattle to be herded, blood money to be eared. Head was lowered slightly as a brisk gust of wind blew. It was cold that night, but that was just how he liked it. Short loose ebony strands blew into his face but he didn’t seem to notice, or he just didn’t care. Slightly longer strands were tied back with a simple tie; those just managed to brush his shoulders.

After just a few minutes, he had reached his final destination: home. Gaze scanned the small building for a moment before he moved forward and pushed in the door. Stairs were climbed and a second door was opened, then, shut quietly behind him. The house was dimly lit, as only a few candles lay scattered over the furniture. It also smelled sweetly of incense and cloves.

His coat was peeled off and discarded over the back of a chair near the door. His night’s earnings slipped from the pocket into his hand. Pouch was toyed with absently as he moved down the hallway. In the common room, the fire had been lit; the orangey glow spread through the black marble floors like wraiths waiting to grab the next intruder.

Moving past the empty room, he emerged into the massive bedroom at the end of the hall. There was a second fireplace in that room; two sets of large windows dominated one of the walls. Crimson tainted tapestries hung open before the windows, letting in the soft moon glow. A large canopy bed sat in the center of the room, against the back wall. Matching crimson and black silks hung from the dark wooden rods around the massive.

“Raziel…” came a soft, whispering voice from within the silky darkness. The voice was smooth and seductive yet innocent just the same. A fair, slender hand parted the silken wave of red and black, revealing a golden splendor inside. A woman in her early twenties, smiled sweetly at him. Her eyes matched his if it weren’t for the slightly darker hues, her hair a sea of golden curls, which were sure to shine in pure sunlight.

What she wore left very little up to the imagination: a sheer dark blue nightgown hung freely from her slender form. She pushed herself off the bed, bare feet touched the cold marble floor but she either didn’t mind or was already used to it. Whispering steps led her towards him.

He took it upon himself to meet her halfway, a smirk of his town touching his features and shattering the previous cold demeanor. “Cassandra, love…” He said quietly to her. His free hand slid around her waist, the other held up the small pouch he carried. She looked at it and smirked quietly before snatching it out of his hand. However, the interest shown in the silver within was non-existent at the moment. She dropped it to the floor and slid her arms loosely around his neck. Being much shorter, she always had to stand on her tiptoes – just because it made her feel better. Raziel was forced to chuckle quietly at this and slid his other arm around her waist, pulling her closer still. A soft kiss immediately touched her lips, one that was returned rather eagerly. The passionate gesture was prolonged for a few moments longer until he finally broke it almost reluctantly.

“Easy night, I take it?” She asked quietly. It was odd how comfortable she was with his “profession” as not everyone took it this lightly. Perhaps she liked the benefits that came with it, or perhaps she simply had no morals. Whichever the case, she seemed perfectly happy with things the way they were.

“Extremely. Why, am I early?”

“No. You’re just on time…” She purred seductively into his ear. This was something that he found very hard to resist. A grin touched his lips as tiny shivers assaulted his spine.

“Just what am I on time for?” He whispered, soft breath touching the warm flesh of her neck. His lips brushed her skin teasingly, playfully as always.

“Shut up and kiss me.” She whispered. Hands fell to either side of his cheeks; warm flesh against his cooler one. He met her gaze wild mild amusement but did as told like a good boy. Lips were pressed to hers deeply, passionately. At the same time, his grasp around her waist tightened ever slightly and he lifted her up. This was obviously nothing new, as she immediately wrapped her legs around his waist, her nightgown riding up to her mid thigh almost indecently. It wasn’t like he seemed to mind much as his own hand fell to her thigh and slowly slid beneath the sheer material.

She exhaled softly against his lips, but didn’t break the kiss, she never broke the kiss. They did not remain like that for long, however. Raziel moved forward, towards the bed, carrying her easily.

Cassandra held onto him almost desperately, basking in the passion of his kiss, the firm yet sensual hold he had on her, the feel of his muscled body against hers. Every single detail jumped out at her and every single night she would fall in love with him once again; it had been so for the last year.

She was gently dropped onto the mattress, he, however had not disengaged himself from her. Instead, crawled onto bed with her still clinging onto him and leaned down until her back met the softness beneath. Her body, so fragile next to his, shook softly in delight. Her eyes had long drifted shut and so remained as she whimpered quietly; the kiss had been broken. Her dismay did not last very long though, as his lips touched her throat and neck with gentle kisses. They had been together for over a year and still there wasn’t the slightest of marks on that tender neck of hers. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him; in fact she did all too easily. The fact was that he did not trust himself.

Slender fingers brushed down his back and sides. The dark shirt he wore was tugged at and freed from matching dark pants. Buttons were slowly undone and the shirt parted to reveal his pallid muscled front. Thin, light scars lay scattered over his front. Thin, light scars lay scattered over his front; each had a story of their own. The shirt was then slid from his shoulders. His back was were there were the most marks; these were jagged, long, uneven and slightly darker – they looked like whip lashes and in fact, were. She tossed the annoying article of clothing to the side with a faint, innocent smile. Even if they didn’t end up doing anything other than simply laying there and talking, she always seemed to get him out of his clothes; or at least halfway.

Raziel chuckled quietly, shaking his head at her attempt at innocence. “Miss me much, did you?” He asked playfully against her lips.

“Of course. You really should learn to stay awake and lively during the day more often, yanno. Or I should just start giving you more reasons to…” She returned quietly with a slight, but playful pout.

He pressed a brief kiss to that pout of hers and slid onto his side, lying beside her. “But I rather enjoy this compromise.” He grinned.

Cassandra turned onto her side as well, smoothing the wrinkles from her nightgown. As soon as she managed to appear slightly more presentable with the gown covering her figure, he simply waved a hand and the gown returned to its previously messy state around her thighs. She gave up then with a silent chuckle. She folded an arm beneath her head and lay there quietly, just watching him.

“What is it?” Raziel asked after a few moments of returning her silent gaze.
“Must it always be something?”
“When you look at me like that, it usually is.”
She flashed him a small smile and he reached out, touching a hand to her cheek softly, lovingly. She immediately leaned into the gentle touch and exhaled.

“What is it, love? Talk to me.” He insisted, but got only a shake of her head as a response. “Please...”
“It’s not important.”
“You’re not a good liar, you know that.”

She exhaled quietly, and then finally whispered weekly after a long pause. “I feel so… alone sometimes. Like I am stuck in between two worlds that I can’t possibly fit into…”

“You are not alone and you aren’t stuck between anything. What is this?”

“But I am, Raziel. When I go out for a walk around town, I see these families walking those very same streets and they look so happy… I will never have that. And at night… well, you know what goes on then. I don’t belong in my world, nor do I belong in yours…”

He didn’t know what to say to her and only lowered his gaze away from her own. Her eyes were showing the first signs of wet tears even as she attempted to blink them away. It wasn’t the first time that this had come up, but never before had she taken this approach; usually it was brought up in a casual conversation and not like this.

She continued, “I just want to belong somewhere and be an outcast no longer.” It was obvious that their complications ran deeper than her desires; this kind of relationship was simply not accepted by either of their “worlds.” Everyone tried to kill everyone else; it was the way it had always been. “You could change that, you could…”

“No.” He said flatly, interrupting her before she could even finish.

Cassandra was mildly surprised. She had worked to hard on perfecting her approach during the time that he was gone, and she had even added tears for affect! How could it have failed so horribly?

“We’ve been there before and the answer is still no.”
“But...”
“But nothing, Cassandra. It’s not happening, I’m sorry.”

She stared at him a moment longer then let out a frustrated breath and slid off the bed. She stormed across the room to sit in front of the mirror. One thing she had never been was vain, but she was quite aware of her beauty nevertheless. She gazed at her reflecting on the mirror and said nothing; only stared. She knew better than search for answers in that reflecting surface but couldn’t help herself.

“I love you. I would give my life for you if necessary, I would do anything. Why won’t you do this for me? How hard can it be?” She whispered quietly, meeting his gaze through the mirror.

Raziel had remained as he was on his side and only watched after her. “Because I want you to live.”

“But I am going to die!” She cried out. This was perhaps her biggest fear. It wasn’t just that she didn’t fit into the perfect world she imagined for herself, she simply wanted to stay in it.

“You’re still young…”

“Yeah, so were you when you were killed! And now there you are after how many years? Probably don’t even know…” This time her tears weren’t rehearsed and slid down her cheeks softly.

She did have a point there. He was forced to look away; her words sinking deeper than she probably had meant them to. He indeed still had a whole life ahead of him, but he was a warrior and the risks were high. He was slain in battle and had little regrets. It was probably for his own good that he didn’t remember all details of his mortal life – it would be rather disappointing from his current point of view. Yes, thankfully his memories hadn’t been restored with his life. A cold-blooded killer in both lifetimes – yet it was hard to pick out which of the two was the worse.

Noting his long silence, Cassandra exhaled quietly and whispered. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean.”

“Yes you did. You meant every word and that’s just fine. You’re right, after all.” He paused, sliding off the bed. His shirt was slipped back on; this was enough to frighten her. Before she could say anything, however, he nodded to her clothes she had previously discarded over the back of a chair. “Put them on.”

“Where… are we going?”

“Out. Get dressed.”

She wasn’t sure what this meant but did as told, crossing the room towards the neat pile of clothes and began changing.

Cassandra shuddered slightly. The night had gotten colder still and she was one of those very much warm-blooded people. She hugged herself as they walked down the street, and shot a sideways glance at him.

Raziel had returned to his previous get up, open coat flapped softly in the breeze behind him, his trusted weapon hung from his belt at his side. He walked beside her at his usual brisk pace, which only made her even more puzzled. His gaze was focused ahead, on seemingly nothing or maybe everything; it was hard to tell.

She blinked at him then glanced around at the small number of people still roaming the streets. Her gaze focused particularly on a couple that walked in their direction. The strangest thing was the look that the two of them gave Raziel. Right then and there, she felt a pang of jealousy, even if it wasn’t justified. The way the woman had looked at him, the dark seductive air about her; how it blasted out of her in waves was all too inviting for Cassandra’s taste. So this was what she missed out on every night that he was out on his own. It wasn’t even like she had any real reasons to be jealous, never had he betrayed her in anyway.

He was well aware of her penetrating gaze, well aware of her thoughts and as if to make it even worse, he returned the other woman’s seductive glance. Green orbs shone brightly, the slightest trace of silver whirl pooling through them. He watched her intently as the distance between them became shorter and shorter. When they were but a few feet away, she broke away from her companion and crossed to Raziel. Her gaze, shimmering blue watched his in a kind of awed silence. This left Cassandra staring at the scene in disbelief. How dare her, that little whore!

The woman was right around Cassandra’s age, with those shimmering blues contrasting beautifully with sleek black hair that cascaded down her shoulders and back. As was to be expected, her figure hugging dress left very little to the imagination. Full breasts, pale against the black velvet of her dress; it was a wonder that she didn’t just fall right out of it. Her companion, like Cassandra was left there, staring after her. The distance between the two of them diminished and she stood before him, her breath coming slowly, deeply but evenly. She looked as if she had been aroused by his very presence.

Fingers reached out to touch the side of her neck. Upon contact, she exhaled deeply, shakily, her head falling backwards under utter, delightful submission. Blues drifted shut, lips parting ever slightly in anticipation.

Cassandra glared at them, especially Raziel. Just what did he think he was doing? She obviously received no response. How could he do this, right in front of her no less? Not too far away, the other woman’s companion also glared at the scene, but unlike the shocked Cassandra, he did not just stand by to watch. Instead, he rushed forward with obvious intentions of taking his mate back. He wasn’t very successful, however, as when he neared the two, fierce greens turned on him. A gloved hand slid around the man’s throat, but this brought no comfort or delight, it brought a frightful choking sensation as his air supply was gradually being cut off.

Both the man and Cassandra gasped in unison. Slender fingers touched her lips; she couldn’t believe what she was witnessing. She was aware of his nature and had seen him fight and kill before when things got a little hairy, but this was different: never had she seen him kill for sport.

“Was there something you wanted?” Raziel asked the man with a quiet hiss. The latter could not respond even if he wanted to. “Guess it was nothing.” Said Raziel with an indifferent shrug. His gaze turned to the entranced woman before him as if questioning her on the matter. She, however, also did not have much of an answer. She just stared at him, hand clutched at own breast as she fought to control her obviously aroused breathing.

With the simple flick of the wrist, there came a sickening popping sound and later a heavy thud as the man fell to the floor lifeless. Raziel did not even bother looking at the worthless fool; with him out of the way it was one less worry.

Cassandra flinched and looked away, not being able to witness this any longer, but she couldn’t resist. She had to look whether she wanted to or not. A crystalline tear slid down her cheek and she wiped it away hastily, slowly turning shimmering emeralds back to her lover and the poor woman.

Raziel had pulled the woman closer so that their bodies pressed closely together; she seemed more than delighted and brushed slender fingers up his chest. She was completely lost now; the lustful look in her eyes revealed her vulnerability. She watched him with such want, such need, such passionate desire that it was amazing how she managed to stand there and do nothing more than trace the outlines of the defined muscles of his chest.

He looked to her a moment longer and leaned in, lips brushing along her jaw line ever so softly. She exhaled silently, eyes drifting shut against the feather-light feel of his lips. Gentle kisses brought his lips to her own and that was when she reacted, wrapping her arms round his neck loosely and returning the kiss with feverish passion. He did not allow this to continue much longer, however and directed his kisses down her throat and to the side of her neck. Whatever dismay she might’ve felt when the kiss was broke, was replaced by the new sensations that touched her skin. She tilted her head at his touch. A sharp gasp touched her lips as tenderness was replaced with pinpricking pain.

Cassandra studied the woman’s face for a moment; jealousy got the best of her as the moment of painful surprise was replaced by something she herself had never experienced. It was pure sensual pleasure, willingness of self-sacrifice (even if she did not realize it), and absolutely blissful.

Raziel brushed his fingers through the woman’s hair soothingly as crimson drops pepped to the surface of snowy white skin. Tongue brushed against the tiny wound and she sighed contently. However, she gradually grew mellow, weaker as he slowly drained her of her life’s supply. The woman leaned heavily against him for support, still completely willing. The world seemed to spin all around her, making her dizzy yet utterly fascinated. She moaned quietly into the air, her grasp around his form weakened considerably and if it weren’t for his own hold on her, the girl would’ve collapsed.

Her softening heartbeat echoed in his head; such a wonderful and peaceful sound that was. He only stopped when that sound stopped, it was a well-known rule. By releasing her from his deadly grasp, she slid down his body and collapsed to the floor next to her already dead lover. He watched her go with such a look of indifference that startled Cassandra. The worst came when he shuddered slightly in delight then turned his gaze on her coolly.

Quiet steps led him towards her. She was compelled to shrink back involuntarily which brought a look of amusement to his chiseled features.

“How could you?” Her voice was low, almost child-like.

Raziel arced a brow. “Easily,” he responded coldly. “Still find this appealing? If so, I’ll be more than glad to go ahead with your wishes.” As to emphasize his point, he reached out and brushed a finger down her cheek.

Cassandra couldn’t find the words to speak and just stared at him. She didn’t know what to think of what she had just witnessed, didn’t know what to think of his question, didn’t know if she actually did want this anymore. She wasn’t sure if she would be able to handle it, even if it meant having such wonderful control and power. He made it look glamorous, beautiful even but that was before that night, before she saw the price that was to be paid. After a moment, she only shook her head and lowered her gaze.

“Didn’t think so,” his voice softened and he stepped forward, not to taunt or hurt her, but to encircle her with his arms and pull her close. She went willingly, burying her face against his chest, fighting back the tears that threatened her eyes. She didn’t like to cry in front of him, didn’t like to show her weakness. She had been wrong, even worse, proved wrong and she hated it. She hated to seem so foolish and childish to him. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” he whispered quietly into her ear.

“I want to go home,” was her only reply.
“Alright,” he nodded and turned, leading her back down the street.
“Wait,” she looked up at him. “What about them?” Her gaze shifted toward the two bodies lying on the cobblestone.
“That’s not my problem.”
“But…” she blinked at him.
“Nothing. Let’s go,” he was persistent when he wanted to be. She fell silent and exhaled, allowing herself to be led back home.