Nighttime Encounters - Chapter 16
Only after sensing the man’s presence fade did Rosia raise her head to gaze at his retreating figure. The man had disappeared into the crowd, and the spirits that hovered around him had vanished as well.
Alone with the wind whipping around her, Rosia muttered to herself, “Who does he think I am to say something like that to me?”
His demeanor was polite and proper, yet it irked her.
As Rosia grumbled with a troubled expression, Luperne walked over and replied.
[He probably saw you as the kind of girl who smiles easily at anyone, follows strangers around, and cries when scared.]
“Who? Me?” Rosia’s fine brow crinkled at Luperne’s point. “Did I really appear that clueless and naive to the world?”
Luperne shrugged.
[That’s probably why he gave you that advice.]
Rosia let out a bitter laugh at the absurd misunderstanding. She didn’t even know where to begin to correct him.
“Wow. I just want to chase you down and reveal my identity. I’m Trinity.”
Stunned, nostrils flaring, Rosia turned roughly toward the opposite street where the man had disappeared.
“Hmph, who asked for his help, anyway? And why did he have to butt in and make a fool out of me for no reason?”
[Look on the bright side. This is better than revealing your true identity, isn’t it?]
Luperne chimed in, sticking close to her.
[And he didn’t mean any harm.]
Well…Rosia’s mind drifted to the thought of how he shielded her. Not since her parents had died had she felt such a warm, supportive barrier. His large, firm back was like a fortress, shielding her from the dirty and rough energy of the hoodlums.
With that thought, Rosia shook her head vigorously.
No matter how you look at it, it was just way too much.
Rosia pouted, still upset by the ridiculous misunderstanding. Luperne cupped his chin.
[By the way, what about the spirit attached to those hoodlums?]
“Ah.”
Luperne’s reminder brought Rosia back to reality.
“Oh, right. Demons.”
She turned jerkily to go back down the alleyway she’d just been in with that man. Irritation filled the amethyst eyes that peeked through her flowing platinum hair.
“I thought I was going to have it easy after all these years.”
She had missed it because of the sudden appearance of that man
[Looks like we’ll have to go out tonight.]
She had tossed and turned in bed because of that man, and tonight seemed like another sleepless night, having to go hunt for evil spirits.
She cursed under her breath. “Damn it.”
* * *
Thud.
Kaiden closed the book he had been reading beneath the brightly glowing crystal. The words wouldn’t come to him today. He tossed the book on the tea table and rose from his seat.
Walking over to the window, he leaned against the frame and looked outside. The vibrant cityscape lay in full view from his lodgings in the town center. As night began to fall, twinkling street lights started to dot the darkening roads one by one.
“How do you expect to survive when you’re so weak?” Kaiden clicked his tongue, recalling the day’s events.
The woman, her platinum hair fluttering like the wings of a butterfly, had darted through the alleyways, but when the thugs caught up with her, she had been caught in a spider’s web.
The sight of her tears streaming down her cheeks as the thugs bombarded her with nonsense was unnerving.
Eventually, Kaiden found himself pausing on the way to the headquarters, unable to ignore the affairs of a complete stranger.
“I hope she made it out safely.”
It seemed as though the gazes of the thugs flickered among the streetlights outside. Even while fleeing from Kaiden, there was a vile intent in the way they glanced briefly at the woman.
“Sending them away like that was a mistake,” Kaiden muttered to himself.
Judging from their bravado and their peculiar use of “us” made it clear that there was another group involved.
What if they decided to get back at her? What if she fell for their threats and followed them? These thoughts made it impossible to concentrate on the book in front of him.
“Should I have just escorted her home?” he wondered aloud.
At the very least, he should have asked for the woman’s name. The image of the woman’s pale hand, tightly gripping the hem of her cloak and bearing faint scars, lingered in his mind like an imprint.
Despite it not being his responsibility, his heart needlessly and inexplicably grew restless.
