As I run after them, Geneva’s magic touches my mind, sharing her awareness with me. I can hear the pounding hearts of the fleeing assassins but now I also have a general sense of their location, the information flowing into me. Along with it is a sense of Geneva herself as she rapidly approaches from the opposite staircase. She’s already taken down the group of three I sent her after.

Our prey isn’t blind to my pursuit. A single breath is all it takes for them to realize they can’t outrun me, so they switch tactics. The three survivors break apart, diving into separate rooms. There are screams and curses as the occupants are woken by the sudden entry, but the assassins don’t pause to explain themselves.

I guess they are preparing to leap from the windows of the rooms and Geneva agrees with me. In less than a second, we agree on our targets and I follow after one of the assassins. A naked man stands beside the bed where a woman is hiding her own nakedness behind a raised sheet. His face flushes with anger when I burst into the room but before he can utter a full word, I throw myself out of a window with broken shutters.

I’m right behind the assassin, who is just starting to sprint away as I land. He’s fast, fast enough to leave a hunting dog panting in distress.

Still slow as a stumbling child to me.

Fire erupts on one of his hands as I grab the back of the fleeing assassin’s collar. My eyes instinctively close as a spell is thrown at my face, the pleasant heat warming my skin but doing no damage.

The second spell has more force than heat, snapping my head back as it detonates. I feel something pop and then relief as a tension I didn’t even notice is eased. “Huh. Hey, do you mind sharing that spell? Felt pretty good.”

“…monster,” he whispers, the first word I’ve heard any of the disguised men speak.

“Yeah. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you people. Going to share that spell?”

His answer is to try and put a knife through my eye.

I snap his neck and drop the corpse, an action that is becoming far too common place in my life. How many more times will I do this before this is over?

I can’t dwell on the dark thoughts long. I caught my prey first, which means I have to catch the third. Geneva can still sense the assassin’s mind, but I don’t need her help. He isn’t nearly as quiet when he’s running for his life, feet pounding against the street.

I give chase. He’s had enough time to create some space between us, but I can run all day and night faster than a sprinting wolf. It won’t take that long, especially as I’m not taking a direct route. With a powerful leap, I soar over the roof of a wide and squat building, landing on the next street over. Further down the road, I see a dark figure just before it turns a corner.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

A sudden surge of sadistic glee curls the corners of my lips as I run after him. If his footsteps were loud, mine are deafening, each step bruising the poor road beneath me. He can hear me gaining on him. I can tell from the fearful beating of his heart and the steady stream of curses uttered between harsh breaths. I slam into him from behind, his scream a cross between the screech of a frightened maiden and the squealing of a pig facing a butcher’s blade.

“Please!” His voice is muffled as I grab the back of his head, but his desperation is clear. “I have a family!”

Despite everything, I pause. My first, instinctive reaction to his words is sympathy for the wife and children that will wake up in the morning wondering where their husband and father are. Then comes the anger. Anger is becoming more common and I don’t know if that’s because of me or the unending troubles I have to wade through.

“Why are you doing this then?” I hiss as I lean down next to his ear. “If you care about returning to them, why do this disgusting job? Why come after me?”

“Hunters…kill monsters,” he pants out. “But not…every monster…is a beast.”

“And you all think I’m a monster?” After all I’ve done for these people.

“You killed dozens of hunters and injured hundreds more.” His voice is smoother now that he’s had a chance to catch his breath. His body tenses beneath me. This chat is just a ruse meant to buy time. I know it. Any moment now, he’s going to try and kill me again. But I need to know. “You’re at the center of a northern plot to take our homes and the clothes off our backs. Do you know what happens to this city if you cripple the guilds? What happens to the kingdom? If you aren’t a monster, then what are you?”

He’s ready. The subtle way he shifts, angling his hand towards me, tells me he’s going to cast his spell. I know it but I can’t be sure. Not without seeing the glowing of his eyes or reading his mind.

I smash his head into the road anyway.

I killed someone’s father. Tomorrow, a little girl is going to wake up to a world where her father is gone forever. The thought hollows something inside but anger surges to fill the empty space. So much anger it spills out of me in a powerful roar.

The emotion is so strong that I can’t express it with words, shouting an indecipherable babble at the corpse that can’t answer me. It’s stupid to expect a response but the silence angers me anyway and before I know it, my foot is colliding with his stomach. The dead man is punted so hard that he flies, smacking into the side of a building so hard that the gray stone is splattered red.

Hypocritical bastard. He wants me to spare him because of his family but what about my family? What about Alana, who chose me over the James? What about Kierra, so deathly afraid of losing me? What about Talia, who forsook every other opportunity in her life for what I promised her?

What makes his family more important than mine? Than my life? I’ve gone out of my way to police myself, to use my power responsibly. What has that gotten me? Trouble and undue hatred.

If I’m going to be the villain either way, why should I give a damn about these people?

[Lou. The rest of the assassins have been dealt with and Marcella Guiness is asking for a meeting.]

The building I painted with the hunter’s blood is lit from inside on the second floor. A quick glance confirms this isn’t a residential area. Must be a combination of a home and shop. Won’t be long until someone comes out the front door to investigate. They’ll see me, the woman with the strange eyes and blood on her hands. One more mark against my reputation.

The thought makes me sneer, but I walk away before anyone can join me on the quiet road. Geneva, keep Marcella and whatever muscle she brought with her away from the others. While I doubt it, there’s no guarantee that she didn’t have something to do with the hunters trying to kill us.

She’s damn right we’re going to have a “meeting”.