Issue # 1-A Shattered Clasp

A Shattered Clasp

*~~~~*

“You`re late Mikel,” she states as the Guardian approaches.

“I was detained,” he replies closing the distance between them as she casts a silencing spell. Winter`s breath blows refuse down the thin alley, lifting obsidian hair from leather encased male shoulders ripe with muscle. She shivers both internally and externally. The Guardian always affected her this way. Pulsing metal music covers their conversation, or so it would seem to any who may pass by.

“With a fledgling seraph no doubt!”

Dark brows draw tight with recrimination for her jealous tone. “Why did you call me Ephra?” Mikel inquires riveting her with mercury colored eyes. Her painted lips open then a sweep of headlights briefly illuminates them stalling the conversation. Twin studs of sterling in his right ear-one the cross the other the pentagram-catch the glare for a scant second then the alley darkens once more as they simmer with impatience.

“There have been rumors Mikel, I`m sure you`ve heard them or seen the odd drabbles on the evening news that…..”

“Rumors and drabbles concern me not Ephra, only confirmations.” The towering male seems oblivious to the raspy snow heavy gust that billows out his heavy overcoat. Her heart runs wild at the fleeting glimpse of his chest, the peak of the ink working exposed in the deep V of his under vest. Dark, foreboding art worked into the flesh she longs to touch and taste just once more.

“I saw the mark of a dark charm tonight,” she hurries to say,” On a mortal`s forehead as I danced. I called you immediately Mikel. He still waits inside, for his lap dance.”

Her lush red lips smile up at him and the bare flesh under her thin coat prickles with expectation for his praise. A small ring laden hand rises with yearning then drifts sadly downward, like the flakes that now fall gracefully around her. The Guardian is already gone from her reach, the rear door of the strip joint snapping closed behind a whirl of ebony leather and otherworldly masculine power.

He always left her thusly. Cold and envious of the Gates that hold his soul.