Sanctuary, a safe haven for the paranormal, was in full swing tonight. Marissa sat off in a corner, her red hair falling in ringlets around her face tonight. Her eyes, a strange crystal purple, scanned the occupants with a bar in unique fashion. Most were human. Some were Apollites – a unique breed fathered by the god Apollo, who were cursed to die at the age of 27. Most painfully at that. Unless, of course, they became Daimons. Daimons were soul-sucking vampires, ones that left a special mark on the world.
Now Were-Hunters were even more peculiar. They were what humans liked to call shape shifters. There were so many unique breeds. Tigers, wolves, bears, and many others. The sanctuary she was currently in were actually owned by a bear clan. They were friendly to her, something that was rare from someone who knew who, or better yet, what, her big brother was.
Out of all the unearthly people in the world, her big brother had to be the one and only Acheron Parthenopaeus. A god killer, Acheron had a complex of someone who held the world in the palm of his hand. Literally. Her whole life, Ash had been there stopping anyone from coming near her. Make no mistake, she had been in battle. Hell, she was just as lethal, if not more, than her brother.
Currently, Ash was off with her new sister-in-law, Tory. So here she was, off on her own, facing down Daimons. She scanned the bar once again as she took a sip of her coke. The taste of alcohol left a bad taste in her mouth, so she stuck to something sweeter.
A hand clamped down on her shoulder, forcing her to twist around and look at the individual. There stood Devereaux Peltier. Tall and blonde, Mar knew that not even Brad Pitt had anything on this guy. Right now, he was staring at her with an intense expression.
"Girl, don't you tell me that you are legal age. You look 12."
She cocked a taunting brow at him, "Don't be so harsh, Devvy! That's not a very nice thing to say, you know. While I appreciate the random young age, I'm offended that it's so low!"
A smile broke across his face, before he laughed good-naturedly. "I know it's not. But I can't resist. You're more like a little sister to me. Well, when you decide to show up that is, you know?" He shook out his blonde hair, and grinned. "Besides, shouldn't you be slaying creatures of the night?" His bad Transylvanian accent made the last four words sound fake.
Mar shook her head sadly, "Dev, did I not just tell you to be nice? Mocking my occupation isn't nice."
"Is Dev being mean?" A voice spoke up from behind me, turning her around again. There was Dev's true love, Samia.
"Hey, Sam." A smile lit up Rissa's face. To her, Sam reminded her of a goddess. Tall, beautiful, athletic. She was everything that every girl hoped to be. Stepping around her, she hugged Dev tenderly, making Mar glance away, than back when the hug was finished. Lovely dovey things were not her forte. In fact, she would rather throw up than be around people having PDA.
"Are you fighting with the Daimons tonight?" As a former Dark-Hunter, Sam knew what her job was, and why she wasn't to be taken lightly.
"Indeed I am." Unlike the other DH's, Marissa could be around anyone of them without draining their powers.
"Then you better get going. I hear there is a bunch around the Quarter." With a nod, she abandoned her drink, and headed off into the night.
The air was crisp, as winter was beginning to show its wonderful signs. Rissa's custom Hayabusa motorbike sat in front of the bar, making her growl in the back of her throat. Once again, Ash had flashed something to her when she didn't need it. Tsking, she flashed it back to him, with much love. Walking the street, Mar cinched my jacket closer to her body. A pair of blue skinny jeans slid over a pair of black combat-style boots. A long black trench coat showed her figure to perfection. Attached to her thigh was what looked like a gun holster, but in reality, it only held a couple daggers. Marissa's true weapon was on her neck.
The necklace held what looked like a small sickle. When, in actuality, she could transform it into a giant scythe at will. True, Mar didn't hold the customary swords or staffs as a DH, but she was a little more unique than them.
A flash of blonde hair from the corner of her eye led me down a dark alley. Sure enough, three Daimons were surrounding a human boy. Riss tsked at them.
"Such a classy scene, isn't it? 'Hey, Gorgeous George, this boy might be able to sustain us for a little while.' 'No, no. Don't assume such things, Smith; anything could happen at this point.'" Marissa's mimics were poor, but it wasn't what she was trained in. She was trained to kill. "Now, how about you inkblots high tail it, before I decide I need to do some stretches."
The one who seemed to be in the lead turned towards her. "What is this? A female Dark-Hunter? How enchanting! Tell me, little one, how old are you? 14? 15? No, no, you must be at least 19, am I right?" He nodded, not bothering to even look at her. "I think, maybe a little bite might be good. Just one question first, though. Are you a real red-head?"
Marissa's eyes rolled back in her head, "Born and bred. Haven't dyed it once."
The inkblot licked his lips, "Red-heads are so spicy. You shall be yummy." The other two turned towards her, licking their lips as well. Could they get any more cliché? Rolling her eyes once again, Marissa whipped out two of her daggers, expiring one of the Daimons on contact.
"Yes, we may be spicy, but never underestimate our ability to kill anything that even looks at us wrong. Got it?"
The leader hissed, and flipped over her, intending to sink his teeth into her neck. Bringing her elbow up, she caught him in the nose.
"No you don't. I am not some chew toy." Swiping his feet out from under him, she brought her dagger down towards his chest.
Only to have pain explode on her side. Hissing, she turned to the other Daimon, to see him holding a gun.
Marissa blinked like it was the strangest thing she'd ever seen, "A gun? What are you, 3-years-old? Who the hell takes a gun to a psychic power fight?" Using her telekinesis, she lifted him off the ground, and slammed him into the side of a building.
While she was busy, the other Daimon came at her, flourishing a dagger, and striking at her back. Mar hissed as he sliced her back across the shoulders. Killing the Daimon she was dealing with, she turned back to the leader, and buried her dagger into his chest, causing him to explode.
Breathing heavily, she turned towards the boy. Only to realize it wasn't a boy. He was another Daimon, and one that she knew well.
Strykerius – and at this moment, he seemed equally pleased in seeing her.
"Well, well. I was hoping to draw out Acheron. But instead, I got his little sister." Mar gasped as he spoke a grave secret. Stryker shrugged his shoulders like it wasn't a problem. "It won't matter. If I take you, he'll come anyways. So guess what, little raven, you'll be coming with me." His hands reached out, grabbing at her.
Mar screamed out, a sound that was a warning to all the DH's in the area. As the Daimons hands grabbed her, and began to pull her through the bolt hole, she caught a glimpse of something she knew would bring hell.
Acheron. He was reaching out towards her, just as her world went black. Not before she saw the look of pain in his eyes, but underneath that, she saw the promise to kill Stryker, and return her home safely.