Lyla felt it as a blade swung for them; she narrowly missed the attack, but managed to shove Mor to Livie.
She turned, blades already at her palms. A tall, built female stood before her, seething. Recognition clicked immediately. How had they forgotten about this sleeping beauty?
From her peripheral she noted Livie slowly lifting Mor before moving towards the exit. Bracing herself, Lyla lifted her daggers.
Her opponent lunged first—a fast blur of motion. She stepped sideways, feeling the rush of wind as the blade missed her ribs by inches. The ring of metal echoed sharply and suddenly when her dagger caught her sword, deflecting the strike.
They circled. Feet shifting soundlessly on the tiles, each waiting for the other to make a move. Her opponents' next strike aimed low towards her thigh, but she was able to quickly move, making the cut that would have been dangerous shallow.
The woman charged again. Twisting, Lyla moved from range and landed a cut to her opponent's unguarded side. The woman cursed aloud, her eyes dark and wild.
Her opponent swung at her, and all she could do was dodge.
"Here," she heard Livie shout, and a sword clattered a few feet beside her. Seeing this, the woman kept attacking, moving her far from the weapon.
Blood leaked from her arm, her previous wound opened anew from the strain.
Swing after swing, the woman came at her, and Livie, on the other end, close to the door now, calculated if there was any other way she could help, but Mor beside her was too weak, too vulnerable to leave alone.
"Where are they?" Leo asked, looking at the street from the next building
"Something must be wrong," Lucien started before cursing. How could he forget?
Jumping back on the roof, he rushed down the steps before stopping short at the upper floor that gave him a clear view of the ongoing battle beneath
Blood leaked from the fresh wound on Lyla's hip and from a previous cut he had noticed on her arm. A shallow cut also marred her thigh, and although she was hurt, she still managed to hold her own. It left him in awe.
"Shit," came Felix's voice beside him, then Leo
The woman hit Lyla with the hilt of her sword, forcing her down on her knees before aiming for her head.
Crossing her daggers above her, she was able to stop the strike. Infusing them with her magic, she gritted her teeth against the force of the woman.
The sword thrown by Livie sat a hand's reach away, and she only needed a way to get it. Summoning all her strength, she pushed against the woman, making her boots slip against the bloodied floor. It was enough to mess her balance, so Lyla continued pushing, forcing the female to let go to prevent a fall. It was the opening she needed
Grabbing the sword, she impaled it into the woman's already injured side. She screamed, but her wailing was cut short.
Wet thumping rang in the now quiet building, before a thud sounded beside her.
Sword still glowing a fierce dark green, Lyla turned to look at the headless corpse at her feet, then to the head a few feet away, mouth still open.
"Fuck" she heard Leo say from above.
Looking up, her blank eyes meet star-flecked grey orbs. A mix of emotions filled them. She tried to distinguish what they were, but Mor grunted.
"Let's go," Lyla announced, tearing her eyes away and walking towards the redhead.
Eyes watched her as she lifted Mor to her shoulder, blood slowly dripping from her wounds, but she didn't wince, not even as her body wailed in protest. She only took a step forward and walked into the night, leaving behind the reek of death.
*
Livie had offered to heal her countless times once they were back in their room, but she had rejected every attempt.
'Mor needs you,' she would say, and Leo, who had not taken his eyes off the redhead, nodded in gratitude, even though his eyes briefly took in her wounds, and there was a bit of guilt there because they both knew he was glad Mor got Livie's undivided attention.
Livie, though, handed her some tonics and bandages to use
Sitting on the couch since Mor occupied the singular bed, Lyla twisted her leg, the wound on her hip being her worst, was her priority, but she struggled to apply the medicine.
"Let me," Lucien said, taking the bottle from her and sitting on the table before her.
She didn't argue as he took her leg, placing it on his. No, she just watched as he carefully placed it, then poured the contents on her wound. She couldn't stop the curse that came out of her. Heavens, it felt like her leg was on fire.
But Lucien continued treating her wound, holding her leg firm, not enough to hurt, but enough to stop her from moving.
Black strands fell on his forehead like waves moving with his every tilt. She had never seen hair so black that light seemed to be sucked into it, nor had she ever seen hair so thick, and those curls, looking silky smooth, made her wonder how they would feel between her fingers.
The scent of him wrapped around them: pine, wood, rain, and spice. He smelled glorious and...What the hell was she even thinking? It had to be the blood loss, yeah, that was what was making her delirious.
Lucien looked up, his long lashes hiding part of his eyes. They stared at each other for mere seconds, but she had never felt more naked than she did in those few moments. Had she said anything aloud?
He said nothing as he continued treating and dressing her wounds: the one on her hip, then thigh, then arm, and finally the one on her cheek; small as it was
Lucien dabbed the cloth on her cheek gently. The wound was already healing, but just in case, he told himself.
Being this close, though, gave him a good view of her face; her thick lashes blinked, covering her pretty hazel eyes, and he subconsciously followed their movement. Her full lips turned into a small pout, and he watched that too. She always did that when she was deep in thought, he had noticed, and he wanted to ask what it was that made even her nose slightly scrunch.
But he just observed every line and curve that composed the beauty that was her face. Heavens, she was beautiful.
He felt sorry for the poor bastard who would call her his; the fool would have to deal with a lot of male attention on her.
He had seen it, how men at the bar looked at her with desire and lust, they wanted her, and they made it known. She had rejected them all, maybe because she was not yet comfortable in this place, or maybe she was professional like that, or she simply wasn't interested, or maybe...maybe she already had someone in Luminara.
She turned to face him, and he realized he had lingered too long. He cleared his throat.
"You're good, Livie will still have to take a look, but at least you're no longer bleeding."
She nodded, "Thanks."
"No, I...we should be the ones thanking you if it weren't for you then..." A slight darkness briefly passed his eyes
"It was the right thing to do."
"Still, you didn't have to."
She tilted her head, surveying him before facing forward. She said nothing, and he was curious what she had been thinking just then.
"Why do you do it?" she asked after seconds of silence, "Why risk your life to look into these people?"
Lucien also faced forward, staring at the empty wall, a lot of things crossing his mind, but he settled for, "because I have to."
It was a non-answer, one that could mean a lot of things, but she didn't poke. She just let the silence drift between them as they both thought of their circumstances