Rick had seen Monica fight, he’d seen her in action, he’d watched in both terror and fascination as she clawed and pounced and bounced around. The feline maiden was a killing machine, no human being could ever stand up to her and hope to live.

At best, they could only delay the inevitable.

Someone who looked like they were of the exact same species was chasing him.

She was powerful, powerful enough that she could make the ground explode under her feet when she jumped, it was like a grenade going off, and Rick knew the moment he heard that sound it would mean he’d be dead. His mind fed him with information he knew by heart. No open spaces, keep it tight, stay out of sight, never go on a straight line.

He couldn’t really escape.

Only buy time.

Monica was fighting whatever had threatened him in the kitchen.

He had to buy time.

There was a crashing sound behind him, he’d already turned a corner, the house the feline had smashed into groaned and creaked dangerously, but did not topple. Rick prayed the damage couldn’t get bad enough someone died. But such considerations were for people that could make a difference.

He was just a damn human.

The hairs on the back of his head stood on end, static in the air. Rick didn’t think, he reacted, jumping back into the alley right as the wall in front of him exploded. His mind caught up, he’d already turned the first corner by the time the predator had caught sight of him.

“You can’t run forever!”

She was right.

There was more amusement than anger in the declaration. She was toying with him, she could get serious, he knew. She could jump over to the rooftops and catch up easily. But she didn’t want to, she was playing. Did she think her companion could handle Monica? Was she not worried about the fading fog? If the fog was keeping people asleep, why not him?

The questions burned.

“Whoever hired you, they must have paid a lot!”

Duck, jump, hear the wall behind him explode and turn another tight corner. Straight lines were bad. He could sense Monica’s fight, her feelings of unerring desire for brutality and frustration. She wanted to finish quickly and reach him.

He had to buy more time.

“I don’t work for humans!”

A roar, another wall. Rick hesitated, not humans?

An idea.

“Your owner must be devastated!”

He took left rather than right. A split second hesitation, the walls of wood that had been in the right-ward direction had exploded. Something had been thrown hard enough to penetrate through like a miniaturized wrecking ball.

She was tracking him, she could probably hear even his heartbeat. It was certainly trying to deafen his thoughts. He startled, slowed, paused, then sped back up. His guess had been right, the wall there’d been another something that had been thrown at the position he’d been in. Leg height. She was aiming to cripple.

She wanted to play with him.

Big strong maiden, she knew he’d lose, he knew he’d lose. What did she want?

“I bet you must be real frustrated.” He panted, another sharp turn, he recognized the street. What would Monica do if she were chasing him? Much to his surprise, the answer came to him, he turned around straight back the way he came.

There was a sound coming from the street, she’d tried to cut him off.

Rick tried to lock on to how he’d known.

No time.

“Someone actually powerful trick you into this?”

He heard a snarl, and just in time to take the corner, she was chasing him now, properly. That was bad. The Monica in his head screamed to duck the instant he heard the grinding of stone under him.

Rather than see, he felt the figure soaring over him.

His body moved, jumped back. Movement came without thought.

A claw came, aimed at his leg.

The nameless assailant was holding back, moving far slower than she could have.

It had been just barely enough for him to get out of the way.

Legs wide, stance wide, he kept backpedaling.

His brain tried to catch up, it was lagging behind the mutual dance.

Rick was not the one moving, it was instinct, instinct that was not his own. The opponent moved and she was moving exactly how a part of him knew Monica would have moved. It was clear the goal wasn’t to kill him, not instantly, cripple first, toy with him, maybe death would come once she’d had her fun.

That was all that allowed him to remain alive.

To buy time.

“You move like a Tigress.” She declared.

“Nah.” He managed to pant out through labored breaths. “You’re just bad at this.”

She growled, and Rick was starting to feel the sting of her claws as she was being ever so slightly more serious.

“Going to use your powers on the weak little human? So strong. So mean.”

That startled her, and Rick managed a half-choked laugh that hid the panic. He was sweating bullets, his forehead was drenched, just trying to keep up with this slowed down holding-back she was throwing at him was taking everything. The Monica in his mind was screaming at him, and he could almost count the seconds before he’d react a moment too late.

The feline’s claws were extended, she swiped and thrust them like some sort of wicked blade. But she wasn’t aiming at his face or chest. She was trying to cripple him, and he could only dodge.

Why them?

Why him?

And then, she left an opening, a swing of claws that was just slightly too much.

If it had been a human, she would’ve actually been vulnerable against someone who knew what they were doing.

But she was a maiden, Rick was no fighter, and Monica had warned him it was an obvious trap.

He stepped back to buy himself another half second.

But Rick’s left leg refused to move.

His head snapped down. Something black had pierced through his calf. The pain came a half second after. The black thorn that had emerged from the ground to punch through his leg withdrew back into the shadows.

And he collapsed.

“Did you really think you had a chance?”

Clenching his leg and tightening his jaw, he did not scream.

“I bet you’re going to say I’m pathetic and weak.” The words he spoke startled her, he continued before the anger came. “News flash, lady, everyone in this fucking city can kill me. That doesn’t make you strong.”

“Yet it makes you weak.” She spat.

His leg was on fire, a fire he’d felt before. Rick’s hands were pressing the injury and trying to stop the bleeding, his body was shaking, face pale as a sheet. “Not as weak as the bitch that couldn’t put a scratch on me without using her powers.” He choked, the pain was flaring, his mind was starting to spin. “You’re just like the nobles. You won the birth lottery and mistake it for actual strength.”

That snaps her, the ground exploded under her, and Rick clenched his whole body.

This was going to hurt.

Or maybe she was just going to kill him.

Except nothing comes. Nothing except a cool breeze and titillating laughter.

Hesitating, Rick opened his eyes.

The sky was shrouded in clouds and the dissipating mist. Still, a streak of light pierced through, a moonbeam that lit the house’s roof under spectral light.

“After our second encounter, I was of half a mind to let her hurt you some more.”

The woman’s azure blue hair flowed behind her as if carried by a breeze of its own, golden eyes peered at him in amusement.

Rick opened his mouth to say something.

He promptly vomited.