Issue #4- A Shattered Clasp

A Shattered Clasp


*~~~~~*

Wind so cold it frosts the air in his lungs slams into Mikel as his black shit-kickers thud across the emptied sidewalk. His hair whips him soundly; waist length tendrils blowing back to front. The auto-unlock sound on his Range Rover is covered by her call. Rayvenwing sighs wishing he could avoid the upcoming encounter with Ephra for his mind was on the Gates. And Vestra.

“Mikel,” she pants catching up to him as he tugs the door open on the onyx Rover then folds himself in. Her body bars him from closing the door as he would like. “Mikel?” Again his name falls from her mouth, breathy and smelling of peach Schnapps.

“Go home Ephra.”

She reaches out ice cold fingers to gently push a thick strand of hair behind his ear.”I want to come home with you.”

“Not tonight,” he tells her staring at the lush interior panel, his powerful hands tight on the smooth wheel. He forbids himself to gaze upon her.

“Why?”

Her tone is petulant, like a child denied a treat. He had erred in taking the witch to his bed. She was too young by far. Her sapphire eyes and golden hair had compelled him to take her over and over and more roughly than a witch fresh from her coven circle should have been taken. Her resemblance to the fey princess was what drove him to breed her. But Ephra was not her nor could she ever be.

“I have matters to attend to.” He turns the engine over and cold air bathes the already thickly iced windshield. A whispered charm glides by his cheek and the window glass melts instantly.”Thank you. Now please, go home little witch.”

“What did he want?” she inquires attempting to keep the Guardian close somehow.

“His appearance was not serendipitous Ephra. He carried a message, that’s all you need know.”

She can`t miss the dismissal in his voice or his actions so she draws back. Hugging her coat to her tightly she allows him to close the door. He pulls away, bathing her small form with scarlet taillights.

“You ARE a bastard Rayvenwing,” he mutters to himself turning the volume up on Iced Earth`s Stormrider until the speakers vibrate dangerously. Deep in contemplation he turns the Rover left onto fourteenth as he unconsciously heads to the nearest realm gate tucked under the overpass that harbored many of this city’s homeless. They slept and shot up within mere feet of the portal, never knowing what lay just behind the graffiti covered slab of concrete sealed tightly with magical clasps.

Cursing richly he hits the brakes, barely missing the wide-eyed vagrant standing mid road. Ice flings the Rover over the curb as his vision locks onto the man now caught in the jowls of a nether realm creature. Before the vehicle skids to a stop Mikel hits the roadway, Glock leaving leather smoothly while silver eyes shine like liquid mercury.