• Chapter One


    The alley was dark and stank of urine and vomit. It was home for quick-footed rats and the hungry-eyed felines who chased them. Eyes glinted in the darkness, some of them human, all of them deadly.
    Zythra's heartbeat could be heard in the silence as she slowly moved through the damped-edged shadows. He'd gone in, she was sure of it. It was her job to follow him, find him, and kill him. Her weapon was in her hand, and her hand was steady.
    "Hey, darling, wanna do it? Come on I know ya' do." The voice out of the dark was harsh with chemicals and cheap brews. The rats and cats didn't live here alone. The company of human trash that lined the grimy walls was no comfort.
    She swung her weapon, crouched as she knelled beside a battered dumpster, from the smell of it, hadn't been touched in over a decade. The stench of rotten food and mixed with the humid air turning it into a greasy stew.
    Someone whimpered. She saw a boy, about thirteen, all but naked. The sores on his face were festering; his eyes were filled with fear and hopelessness as he scrabbled like a crab back against the wall.
    Pity stirred in her heart. She had been a child once, hurt and terrified, and hiding in an alley. "I won't hurt you." She said barley at a murmur, she kept her eyes on his, maintaining contact as she lowered her weapon.
    And that's when he struck.
    He came from behind, a roar of violence. Primed to kill he swung the pipe. The whistle of it stung her ears as she dodged. There was barley time to curse as two hundred fifty pounds of muscle sent her flying into the wall.
    She saw his eyes, the glint of mayhem heightened by drugs. She watched him raise the pipe high, timed it, and rolled seconds before it cracked against the brick. With swift movement she dived headfirst into his belly. He staggered backward and reached for her throat. She brought her fist up hard, smashing it under his jaw. The force of the blow sent pain radiating up her arm.
    She spun and delivered a roundhouse kick that shattered her adversary's nose. Blood gushed, adding to the sick miasma of odors. His eyes were wild, but he barley jerked at the blow. Grinning as blood poured down his face, he smacked the pipe on his palm.
    "Kill you. I'll kill you." He circled her, swinging the pipe like a whistling whip. "Break your head open and eat your brains."
    Knowing he meant it pumped her adrenaline to flash point. Live or die. Her breath came in pants, the sweat pouring down her skin. She dodged the next blow, went down on her knees. Slapping a hand on her boot, she came up grinning.
    "Eat this you son of a b***h." Her backup weapon was in her hand. She didn't bother with stun. The setting would little more than tickle a two hundred fifty pound man flying high on drugs. It was set to terminate.
    He lunged at her, she hit him with full power. His eyes died first. She'd seen it happen before. Eyes that turned to glass like a doll's, even as he charged her. She prepared to fire again, but the pipe slipped from his fingers. His body began that jerky dance as his nervous system overloaded.
    He fell at her feet, a mass of ruined humanity who had played god.
    "You won't be sacrificing anymore virgins, a*****e," she murmured, as all that energy drained. She dropped her weapon and ran over to the boy, who was now curled up it the tightest ball possible against the wall. She quickly started to remove her jacket. "It's okay, you're safe now." She said, as she coaxed the boy forward and put her jacket around him. As the boy clinged to her for dear life, she called for an ambulance. Her mind settled a little, too, for now. Just for now though, for she knew he'd be alright.