toll on her, ripped her insides apart in such a way that passing out was the only thing left her body could do.
“Fuck!” he cursed loudly and fell on his knees next to her unconscious form. He lifted her head, his fingers at her throat. Relieved as he felt a strong pulse, he carefully picked her up and carried her to the quarters he had given her. He laid her down gently on the huge bed as he lifted his hands and moved them over her body. The warmth emanating from them relaxed her and soothed the pain. Mel moved back and took a seat in the armchair next to the bed as he waited for her to become conscious once again.
Lost to the peaceful darkness, the pain pulled away from her, Clarissa was content to remain where she was, in blissful obscurity. No pain, no feelings of loss, no duties that she had to attend to. Nothingness enveloped around her and she let it, sank into it, giving herself over to the quietness. The tranquility called to her and she was content to remain in the idyllic surrounding, letting a euphoric feeling encompass her. Her exterior body remained still on the bed, her breathing even but shallow, lost to unconsciousness.
Her breathing slowed, she was calmer and her face was more relaxed. Mel used the opportunity to study her features. The strength inside her was palpable even in rest. He resisted the urge to probe inside her mind, not wanting to disturb her peaceful countenance yet he realized they had very limited time to secure the stone.
A conscience he did not think he had was speaking to him. ‘I want that stone, for centuries I thought it lost to me. Its power lures me even now, yet something is holding me back, preventing me from taking it as I always do when I yearn for something. I seek what I crave and I take it, yet I suddenly find myself in a precarious position. That which I long for is not necessarily that which I desired when I started this journey.’
The warring emotions within the executioner were both frightening and exhilarating. Unsure as to how to proceed, Mel stood up and walked to the door. He stopped, not being able to resist a last look at her. As he turned his head, he found her emerald green eyes upon him.
She had sensed his retreating presence and it pulled her out of her dark security, allowed duty and feeling to return. She watched his backside as he made his way to the door, surprised when he turned and she found herself starring into those pale baby blues once again. They were the color of the sky on an approaching storm, the peace just before the torrent rage of wind and rain. She gazed at him. A part of her did not want him to go, another needed to end this mission quickly and successfully before all of her was lost to him.
“Xon is very angry because he does not know where the stone went.”
Azamel was glad that she spoke and broke the awkward atmosphere that settled in the room. “How do you feel?” Immediately he felt stupid for even asking. He cleared his throat and continued a bit more gruffly, “You just fainted on me. I was not sure if my powers did that or it was the result of something else.”
Clarissa sat up and lowered her head. “Painful was an understatement on the warning. I sensed your power and I saw the demon better, felt him actually. Could feel the rage he had that he was not succeeding and it was taking longer than he estimated. I felt you pull back and it was like you were pulling me apart with the power you were withdrawing.” She raised her legs on the bed and wrapped her arms about them, huddled within herself as she tried to overcome the memory of it, almost still feeling the tentacles of pain that coursed through her.
“It was like you were pulling my essence? My soul even?” She shook her head. “Something that was me out of me.”
Azamel put his hands in his pockets to give them a place to be but also to stop him from doing something stupid, like take her in his arms and comfort her. He took a very nonchalant pose, hoping
“Fuck!” he cursed loudly and fell on his knees next to her unconscious form. He lifted her head, his fingers at her throat. Relieved as he felt a strong pulse, he carefully picked her up and carried her to the quarters he had given her. He laid her down gently on the huge bed as he lifted his hands and moved them over her body. The warmth emanating from them relaxed her and soothed the pain. Mel moved back and took a seat in the armchair next to the bed as he waited for her to become conscious once again.
Lost to the peaceful darkness, the pain pulled away from her, Clarissa was content to remain where she was, in blissful obscurity. No pain, no feelings of loss, no duties that she had to attend to. Nothingness enveloped around her and she let it, sank into it, giving herself over to the quietness. The tranquility called to her and she was content to remain in the idyllic surrounding, letting a euphoric feeling encompass her. Her exterior body remained still on the bed, her breathing even but shallow, lost to unconsciousness.
Her breathing slowed, she was calmer and her face was more relaxed. Mel used the opportunity to study her features. The strength inside her was palpable even in rest. He resisted the urge to probe inside her mind, not wanting to disturb her peaceful countenance yet he realized they had very limited time to secure the stone.
A conscience he did not think he had was speaking to him. ‘I want that stone, for centuries I thought it lost to me. Its power lures me even now, yet something is holding me back, preventing me from taking it as I always do when I yearn for something. I seek what I crave and I take it, yet I suddenly find myself in a precarious position. That which I long for is not necessarily that which I desired when I started this journey.’
The warring emotions within the executioner were both frightening and exhilarating. Unsure as to how to proceed, Mel stood up and walked to the door. He stopped, not being able to resist a last look at her. As he turned his head, he found her emerald green eyes upon him.
She had sensed his retreating presence and it pulled her out of her dark security, allowed duty and feeling to return. She watched his backside as he made his way to the door, surprised when he turned and she found herself starring into those pale baby blues once again. They were the color of the sky on an approaching storm, the peace just before the torrent rage of wind and rain. She gazed at him. A part of her did not want him to go, another needed to end this mission quickly and successfully before all of her was lost to him.
“Xon is very angry because he does not know where the stone went.”
Azamel was glad that she spoke and broke the awkward atmosphere that settled in the room. “How do you feel?” Immediately he felt stupid for even asking. He cleared his throat and continued a bit more gruffly, “You just fainted on me. I was not sure if my powers did that or it was the result of something else.”
Clarissa sat up and lowered her head. “Painful was an understatement on the warning. I sensed your power and I saw the demon better, felt him actually. Could feel the rage he had that he was not succeeding and it was taking longer than he estimated. I felt you pull back and it was like you were pulling me apart with the power you were withdrawing.” She raised her legs on the bed and wrapped her arms about them, huddled within herself as she tried to overcome the memory of it, almost still feeling the tentacles of pain that coursed through her.
“It was like you were pulling my essence? My soul even?” She shook her head. “Something that was me out of me.”
Azamel put his hands in his pockets to give them a place to be but also to stop him from doing something stupid, like take her in his arms and comfort her. He took a very nonchalant pose, hoping
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