Path of the Necromancer - FACTION WARS

Chapter 8.2 - Ian

The aged cement floor was nicked and dusty after a lifetime spent supporting cargo containers and heavy machinery. Today the yard contained a squad of black Dodge Ram pickups escorting the cab and trailer of a larger rig. They'd positioned themselves to make it clear there was to be only one way in and out of this meeting. The half circle of vehicles was completed by the inhabitants resting easy, weaponry evident.

Ian, who had been watching them carefully, noticed that they'd parked in such a way that spotting any nasty surprises would be difficult.

A single man stood in prominence, hands clasped behind his back with sunglasses on, despite the obscuring cloud cover. His suave suit was ruined by the greased hair slicked back and the pronounced front teeth that pinched his features. If he wanted to look cultured, or civilised he was going about it all wrong to Ian's mind.

Ian rose from his seat and moved around the front of his car, never taking his eyes from the Werewolf. Senses expanded now that he was outside his car's protective Wards, he was greeted by the taint he'd come to associate with their kind. It pulsed from him with each heartbeat. As the others revealed themselves, he examined them much in the same way. The small grey notepad that resided in the recesses of his consciousness wondered when it was he developed this ability. Some were of greater distinction than others - of the non-Mages, only Dani was identifiable.

Ember took her time in revealing herself from the low sports car. The door swung open and stayed open for a few seconds before a long shapely leg stretched out, the dark colour of her high heeled boot clipping down one after the other. She rose adroitly to her full height, hand draped atop the door before flicking it shut with a casual swipe of her wrist.

Hungry growls rumbled across the intervening space. She ignored them. Instead she let the sway of her hips dictate her gait to Ian's side.

"Relax," She purred predatorily, administering a sinfully teasing kiss.

To her astonishment, his heart rate barely altered while his returned efforts were passionless and chaste. Annoyed at the lack of a reaction, she turned her fiery gaze upon the group currently eyeing her with caution and lust in equal measure.

'Smart,' She smirked, stepping aside as the leader of the group approached.

She watched Ian appraise his approach with scorn written on his face. The Werewolf had a sleazy disposition, yet he was also the only one who seemed able to show something beyond a feral hate. She could scent it on them - a deep seated infusion of hostility.

"It's nice to finally meet the scum that's been causing so much trouble." Even the voice of the Shifter came coated in saliva. He lisped and sprayed spit towards them. "It seems that you and I have some business to settle."

Ember's claws slid forth from the tips of her fingers as the fool moved into Ian's personal space, either not caring or oblivious of, the danger his life was suddenly in. From the chill and effervescent tang of iron, Ian had called upon his power. Drifting a half step sideways, turning, and using her hair as cover; Ember tried to gauge the apprehension of the others.

"I assume you're wondering why you're here?" He oozed. Nobody responded. Ember yawned. The being continued with a sly smile ever-growing on his lips. "It appears that you murdered an elder of my community. Nothing's been done about that. Care to guess why?"

"Too busy fucking yourselves?" Grim guessed.

While the others laughed - herself included - she noticed Ian kept his eyes trained on the man before him.

"I'm not here to play fetch," Ian chided.

The corner of his eye twitched when growls rose from the background. The smug grin that had been slowly growing remained as Sleazy waved his pack-mates down.