Just Lyca Lady

Chapter 4 : Solace in Silence

There was no way this was happening. No—just no. My night was similar to a sponge; it could only soak up so much bad luck and dangerous encounters. So this? It was too much.

Fate was not a friend of mine, though; against the odds, this was indeed happening. A man had caught me from behind, wrapping a slender arm tight around my waist and began dragging me behind the tavern where no eyes would see.

My poor heart once again rattled within my chest, and my body felt cold. Such a terrible emotion like pure fear should not be experienced twice within one evening. At least in the arena there were chunky men to help pull me away, or a lycan to shred the evil apart. I did not even have Andrew—useless Andrew.

So, I resorted to kicking my legs as hard as I could and clawing at the hand over my mouth. His unnervingly moist, hot breath rushed over my ear as he muttered an unholy word and tightened his hold. Struggling was only making it worse.

Think, Anna. I was smart—surely smarter than him. There had to be something... I was weaker, but even the lacking in strength could defend themselves with...with a weapon. I needed something to help me inflict pain. But where would I find one in this? Wait, nearly all men carried a small blade at their waists, something easy to hide and wield. Please, Lady Luck, trot my way.

I dropped a hand and desperately patting his side. When my palm landed on a handle, my eyes widened, and the man caught wind as to what I was trying to do. I grabbed the handle and pulled it from its sheath as my attacker released his grip around my waist to go for the dagger as well.

There was no time to hesitate, no time to contemplate; one wasted moment and he would take away my only hope. I rose my hand slightly and drove it down to his leg. A pain filled yelp escaped his lips as the knife buried into his thigh.

Before I knew it, I was stammering forward, grip still tight to the knife. Whipping around to see the hooded man several strides away, pressing down on his wound, I was able to take a moment to get a hold of myself. There did not appear to be any other weapons on him, so I had the upper hand now.

This was what I was used to, being in control of a situation. Usually it was more of a guiding through words form of control rather than this. As such, perhaps I should not have considered myself fully in the seat of power, but how could I not? He had attacked me—and here I was with his own dagger coated in his blood.

"You crazy whore," he said, a sneer etched deep into his face.

Truly? He had tried to abduct me, and he called me names for stabbing him? I would never understand the minds of imbeciles.

"To the ground with you," I instructed, motioning the blade to the soil.

His eyes were still shrouded in shadow, but I was sure his stare was sharper than my weapon. My logic was simple. When I had attempted to walk home and disregard possible danger, I ended up being yanked into it. Clearly, giving my back to a threat was the worst option. Despite his injury, running may not be the smartest option considering my dress would cause some slowing. I needed to get him at a higher disadvantage.

"Did you not hear? Put your belly to the dirt."

This was not something someone should have to consider. I had a weapon; he did not. He was wounded; I was not. This was my stage now, not his. Was it not? Of course it was. Ah, in a perfect world, I would be correct. The invulnerable, power-filled rush I was experience was beginning to fade, allowing me to realize what I despised admitting. This situation was not fully in my hands.

Though I had a blade, it was short, even as daggers went. A longsword was not intimidating unless within reach, so needless to say, the small knife was far from authority commanding. The man was wavering his odds and where his two feet were grounded in this. Applying a bit more weight to his injured leg, I noticed a tensing in his frame. At least the wound was working strongly in my favor.

"Fine," I said, keeping my voice level, "if the ground does not suit you, walk away. A fair enough compromise, all considering."

Bargaining seemed to be the best approach now. One of the easiest ways to win someone over, as Father had demonstrated time and time again, let them believe they were getting a good deal—that they were 'winning' rather than being baited.

"Tell me, Miss," the man's raspy voice began as he once more tested the extent of his injury, "you know how ta use one of those things proper like?" His free hand motioned to the knife, causing my grip to tighten on the handle and eyes flicker to it momentarily. His lips raised at the edges. "Looks to me like you ain't got a clue."

"Yet you bleed."

"Off guard, me was." His hand left his leg. "Guard ain't off no more."

The element of surprise, it was quite helpful, and the man's words robbed him of it. His belly would not willingly be laid to the soil, nor would he walk from this. A man and his pride, something worth pushing forward for at all cost, which he did. His cloth covered toes dug into the powder-dry dirt as he began his rush in my direction. There was a high likelihood his plan was simple: avoid the weapon and render me harmless. He did not strike as the sort of man to think deeper than simplicity. The only downside to such a plan, really, was hindering them tended to be just as simple.

Keep calm, I reminded myself as his gangly legs brought him my way. He wants you to panic, to make you afraid—to make a mistake. He wants you to... Wait, that was the answer. If I held the blade out in front, he could swat my arm out of the way much easier. The further something was from me, the harder it was to maintain control. Like guiding a horse, keeping it close, reigns tight, allowed for easier management than giving the animal room to move freely. I could not provide him the opportunity to take control of my only weapon.

Letting my calm exterior fade, I took a step back, lowering my weapon in a hesitant manner to my side in hopes the man would think he was scaring me. It seemed to work considering he didn't slow. When he reached me, he was no longer focused on the dagger. It was to the side, out of the way and not a threat to him, I was sure he believed. Instead, his arms wrapped around just my waist as he barreled into me, taking us both towards the ground.

A knight once spoke of a near death experience, claiming time slowed for him. When he had told his tale, there was no reason to think him a lie. He was. Quick—so quick. Everything happened before I knew otherwise. On the ground, breaths constricted by my attacker's still body, I knew I had accomplished my goal in getting my arm around him and driving the dagger into his back.

His head rested heavily on the side of my face, and his arms were still wrapped around my stomach. There was comfort in the silence, in the stillness of the night that existed afterwards, but it was not a feeling I wished to indulge in any longer than needed. With struggled efforts, I managed to escape from under his weight and sit upright, legs collapsed over one another and against the ground.

Now, I could bask in the solace, in the man's death, and in my life.   

-----

Thank you for reading! I hope you liked the chapter :D. If you did, please vote; any and all comments are loved, as well! 

Happy reading!