|Posted by Sandi Bischoff on September 8, 2010 at 10:06 PM|
The soft hiss of steel on steel wasbarely audible as she stood over his sleeping form. She had crossed the gleaming blades of hertwin short swords resting the tip of each on either side of his neck on thepillow beneath him. It would be so easyfor her to free herself of his existence. Ian had never made her life easy, complicated and aggravating maybe, buteasy never. That just wasn’t his style.
He inhaled deeply and she found her resentment for the fact he still lived rising. Why couldn’t it have been he that perished instead of her family that night? He was, after all, the one who betrayed them. But no, instead he showed his true colors and joined forces with the demonic war lord who sought to enslave her entire village. Not even the Dark Order had arrived in time to save them. Regardless of his many protests to the contrary, Echelon always knew Ian had intercepted the messenger to the King, killing him.
Unfortunately, that was almost four hundred years ago.
Her lip curled into a sneer. Yes, and that point being? There was no amount of time that could ever pass to make her forgive him. What he had done was unforgivable. He had betrayed her trust, something she did not give lightly.
She inched the blades closer to his skin, just skimming the surface. The evil smile on her lips didn’t even reach the black pools of pure malice that were her eyes. To end his life now would be the answer to ridding herself of eternal misery, and all it would take was…
She was pulled from the fantasy of his death by the deep melodic timber of his voice. Echelon cursed inwardly at her distraction as her seething gaze met the vibrant green of his own. Gritting her teeth, she finally let the cold steel touch his skin to bite through his flesh.
“Don’t call me that.”
“What? Lana? It’s what I’ve always called you. Why should I stop now?”
“NO! You lost the right of that familiarity a long time ago Ian!”
He sighed. “You’re still mad aren’tyou? Come on Lana it’s been three hundred years already.”
“I said,” she let the blades cut a hair deeper and blood began to seep onto the pillow. “Don’t call me that! The naive girl who held that name died a long time ago at your hands. And for the record, it was three hundred years forty two days eleven hours thirty three minutes and ten seconds…make that eleven seconds.”
“Technical much? Being angry at me isn’t going to change what happened.”
“Maybe not but it is enough to fuel the fact I still want to bleed you dry. If it weren’t for you, my family would still be here.”
Ian’s eyes flashed angrily as he wrapped his long fingers around her wrists. “You don’t think I lost anything that night do you? For your information Lana, I lost everything. I lost my life, my child, my freedom…I lost you.”
“THAT was your own doing, Ian. Had you not delivered us into Beladon’s hands…” Tears welled upin her eyes as she thought of all that would be different. “You’re the one who decided to dance with thedevil that night, not I. Yet we all paid the price for it, didn’t we?”
His eyes softened a bit while mumbling, “Some more than others.” Ian freed her hands and dematerialized before her eyes.
Echelon let out an earth shattering scream just before slicing the bedding to shreds. “You Son of a BITCH! Get back here you coward!” She stabbed the pillow where his head had been only moments before delighting in the blizzard of down that erupted. Feathers coated the bed and stuck in her hair as she continued to mutilate the pillow. If only it had been his blood instead.
Moments later while slicing down the center of the mattress, she felt the familiar tingle in the nape of her neck alerting her to the fact he had returned. She spun on him training one sword on the hollow of his neck while the other was held ready at her side in case heattacked. Echelon swallowed with difficulty against the lump in her throat. She wanted to believe it was from the pain he caused her. However she would only be lying to herself if she did. She hadn’t seen him in centuries and looking at him now, Echelon knew he still held some sort of power over her. She hated him for that.
Ian stood before her in full armor black as night, the emblem of a golden dragon emblazoned on his chest. He was the epitome of authority and honor, too bad he didn’t know the meaning of the word. His hair, dark as a raven’s wing, fell loose to his shoulder and his piercing green eyes kept a close watch on the blade before him. To his credit, while he flexed his hands at his sides, Ian made no move to force her to his will. Even though Echelon knew he could. He had a grim smile plastered on his lips while he lifted the strong angle of his chinsilently daring her to take her shot.