The Abyss reeked of old blood and something worse as I slipped through its dark corners.
Something wet and unpleasant squished under my boots. Something that could very well be a dismembered part of someone's body—as was commonly found in the nooks and crannies of this place.
Ugh. I wrinkled my nose.
How disgusting.
Being one of the darker factions of the Black Market, The Abyss housed a lot of seasoned killers, bounty hunters and hit men.
The Assassin's Guild, they were known as—a bunch of money hungry folks who were more than happy to be hired for eliminations, sabotages of any kind, and… body disposals.
Yes.
Body disposals.
Here lived the kind of people you only called when you wanted someone gone for good.
And the cleanup crew?
They were there for when you'd done the killing yourself… and didn't want to handle the mess.
I hated coming here.
I had too many enemies in this place. People who wouldn't hesitate to sink a really fat knife in my back, whether I was looking or not.
But tonight, I didn't have a choice.
My target would only be here for one night, and if I missed him, that was the end; The contract, gone. Likely to be taken up by someone else.
I couldn't have that.
When I'd asked what to look out for, my client had informed me that the target was a merchant.
One who would be alone tonight.
Unarmed.
Without physical guards and free of protective wards.
A perfect hit.
Or so I'd thought.
I'd only been given his location, so I followed the map strictly. Getting there, I spotted him easily.
The man was very tall—hard to miss. He wore a black coat dusted with crimson embroidery and he was speaking to another man. One in a black mask.
Possibly The Shade himself.
The Shade ran the Abyss from the shadows, and he was always hidden behind that mask.
No one knew what he truly looked like, but there had been… rumours.
They said he was a scarred monster, his face destroyed—the flesh torn away until only the skull remained. Others swore he was a handsome siren who wore a mask so people wouldn't kill themselves over his beauty.
All I knew for certain was that dealing with him was like playing with hungry flames. Sooner or later, you'd get burned alive.
The merchant's back was to me as I waited for him to finish whatever business he had with The Shade. I couldn't see his own face, either.
The crowd drifted restlessly around us, and I subtly acknowledged that while I wasn't really patient in most areas of my life, I sure had the patience of a saint when it came to my steals.
Anyone else would've gotten edgy by now with the lack of motion, but I kept waiting—because paying attention to detail was a critical part of my job. And if you lost focus for even a second, you might lose your mark.
Especially one who was smart enough to realize you'd been tailing them.
So I kept my focus steady, and when my target started to move, so did I.
My client's instruction had been simple:
"Brush against him like it's an accident, so he doesn't immediately get suspicious. I hear you're so good, a target won't even know they've been touched until it's over." That part was true. "I trust that you can do a good job, Witch. But– whatever you do… don't look him in the eyes."
Odd request. But fine by me.
I'd been paid enough not to care.
I passed him once, to get a feel of things. Size him up, up close.
Twice, so I could envision everything. Picture how I want it to go perfectly.
On the third pass, I stumbled deliberately, letting my palm slide across his. He even reached out to steady me, making my job easier.
As soon as our skins met, the siphoning began.
As usual, I expected the familiar feeling of heat traveling through my veins—how I knew the magical essence was draining from my victims. Most times, it flooded in all at once and was over in seconds. Other times, it came in small trickles that dragged on for a minute.
This time… I was slammed into by a tidal wave. One that ripped through me with savage force, threatening to tear me apart from the inside out.
I blinked.
Gods.
That was… amazing.
No, really. The power rush was unlike anything I'd ever felt before. And it was so intense that I actually swayed when another wave hit.
Damn.
I suddenly felt cheated.
Underpaid.
When my client had slapped that mouthwatering-ly huge sum of money down in front of me, I hadn't thought he was being generous. I'd thought he was crazy. Straight up. No amount of power was worth that much.
I'd been wrong.
This power was worth a hundred times more.
We might have to renegotiate before I delivered—ow!
Wait.
Was it supposed to hurt?
In my fourteen years of stealing magic, I'd never felt pain from taking, or rather 'eating' someone's essence; the special abilities that made them powerful. Or worse… dangerous.
Mind reading, future sight, teleportation, control of the elements… you name it. Every supernatural in Erendale had one, regardless of species.
In the process of magic eating, I'd felt dizzy before, sure. A minor headache, now and then. The occasional nose bleed when I'd been overworking myself, stealing constantly without getting any rest, but— Another wave hit.
Huh.
Pretty strong guy, this merchant.
Another.
Okay, that was a lot. What—
Another. My knees buckled, my veins convulsing internally as more power drove through my body. My heart was going to combust if this didn't stop.
It didn't stop.
What the hell?
How was it still comin– ow!
It burned.
I should've been done already, but this shit had me choking.
Whatever power I was stealing must've been a better thief than me, 'coz tell me why it'd yanked the air straight out of my lungs!
I gasped, struggling to get the air back in. Breathing had become difficult.
For the first time, eating someone's magic became a matter of life and death.
A fight to survive.
Who was this guy?!
I tried to break contact immediately. This was not how I wanted to die. This job couldn't be my last.
But he didn't let me.
His hand clamped around my wrist with a strength that was abnormal, even for a supernatural. The bones of my wrist were going to shatter to pieces, if—
"Thiefff," he enunciated, drawing out the word deliberately, but without any inflection. His voice hadn't been raised, yet it wrapped around me completely. There'd been no surprise there. Not even anger. Just… amusement.
Fear gripped me.
This wasn't what I'd bargained for, at ALL.
But I was curious…
'Whatever you do, don't look him in the eyes…' Goosebumps raced over my skin as my client's voice replayed in my head once again.
The warning had been clear—crystal, in fact—reminding me exactly how dangerous it could be if I did, but—
My gaze betrayed me.
I looked up—and my stomach immediately dropped to my toes.
I'd been set up.
Mercury eyes stared down at me. Their depths were cold and... very hard to read, but up close, flecks of red and gold flickered in them, catching the light like burning embers.
A jagged scar cut through his left eyebrow, making him look… threatening.
Alarmingly so.
His hair was pitch-black, threaded with silver highlights that might've been natural—or artificial—but the most prominent patch glinted at his temples.
But those eyes… And that scar. I knew exactly who they belonged to.
And he was not someone I ever wanted to meet.
This was a man who owned more than a third of the Black Market—a man you didn't cross and lived long enough to tell about it.
And right then, trapped in his grip, I knew I wasn't making it out alive.