The Demonic Society

Conflicting Clarification

Zayne

Holding onto her eased my inner demon, as if the delicate contact was enough for it to rest now.

I don't think I ever felt more at peace in the past five centuries than I did now. It was such an odd notion that a cornel of fear churned in my gut.

How could a woman I'd just met hold so much power over me? Scratch that. I knew the logical answer but I refused to acknowledge it. It'd be pure stupidity to even think that she could be—

Stop.

I silenced my consuming thoughts to focus in on the moment. I kept one hand in her ratted hair and the other on her lower back. After I'd seen the two shredded wounds upon her back I cringed inwardly.

I was stupid, so stupid why didn't I throughly check her for injuries? Why didn't I make sure she was cared for? Who changed her and didn't cover them up? Why didn't I stay and make sure? Why was she so distracting that the most basic things slipped my mind?

The questions roamed around in my mind while guilt fastened itself inside my heart.

My eyes lowered to the hand on her back, finding the shimmers of white and pea green fading into imperial blue.

The realization that I had created a sense of peace for her sparked my satisfaction.

My heartbeat pitter pattered in my chest as her scent engulfed me.

I felt her body stiffen in my grasp.

"I—-." She began as I reluctantly let her pull away.

"Don't apologize." I responded taking a careful step back but still close enough to catch the faint smell of creamy cocoa and vanilla musk that clung to her.

Her good eye was red from the tears she'd cried but widened now that she was back in the drivers seat of her own brain and beheld who'd been holding her.

"Zayne?" She asked as her untamed hair fell over her features, contorted with little effort. "What's happened to me?"

"Come sit. I'll explain." I resisted putting my arm around her as I led her back into the bedroom. I motioned for her to sit in one of the two black chairs before the fireplace. After she did I pressed a small button on the top of the fireplaces mantel.

"The fire. . . It's blue." The confusion in her voice was evident.

"Indeed." I stated as I moved the second chair so that it was more across from her than it was diagonal. "Red is for the warmth. Blue is for the cold."

"Oh." She watched as the fluorescent flames crackled behind the hearth. The room felt full of tension and I knew we'd both need the cooler air.

I left her sitting on the edge of her chair as I went back into the bathroom to grab some medical supplies.

I didn't want to scare her by shifting into someone she wouldn't recognize that'd have the power to treat her wounds.

My shifting abilities were limited to people I'd killed or objects I'd touch, but I'd killed thousands of those with magical abilities so perhaps it wasn't as limited as one might think.

I, not only got the physical attributes of the things I killed and touched, but the magical attributes as well. Still, it was nothing compared to the power my father wield.