Taken

Chapter 16 (Part 1)

The new voice that had spoken was laced with apathy and didn't belong to any of the three men surrounding me.

Jarvis straightened to a stand as his friend, Elion, answered the man. "Out by the fields. I suggest you start heading that way if you don't want trouble."

I turned my head to seek out the stranger who had a glimmer of hope fluttering in my chest despite how unbothered he seemed by the situation before him. He could have left without a word if he truly was.

Straining my neck back, I found the man standing a few meters away. He wore a grey button under a dark coat and had a hand tucked into the pocket of his black pants while the other held a cigarette between his bowlike lips. Lowering it, he blew out a cloud of white smoke that had tendrils curling over his angular jaw that was covered in dark stubble. It was the same color as the short, tousled waves on his head, a saturated and dark auburn. It stood out against his pale skin that seemed to glow in the moonlight, given some warmth by the light from distant lanterns.

"It seems trouble has a way of finding me," he said, his bored eyes locking with mine.

"Walk away, Fae," Jarvis warned. Turning to face the man completely.

"I don't think I can," he said not pulling his gaze away.

My chest dropped with a relieved sigh as the hope that had bloomed grew.

"Why? Something wrong with your legs?" The shortest of the men, Quinn, stepped forward to inquire.

"No."

"Then use them and scram," he snapped, prompting the man to shift his attention towards them again.

The man shook his head, taking another drag of his cigarette as his lips pulled down into a frown. "I'm not leaving without her," he sighed, not seeming too pleased at being troubled by my predicament.

Jarvis narrowed his eyes. "She's not going anywhere."

"She doesn't seem like she wants to be here," the man remarked calmly as he stepped forward, his pace slow and lazy.

"Turn around," Elion warned, mirroring his steps. "This is your last chance."

"Likewise," the man responded with a stony expression as he flicked his cigarette to the ground.

But it never reached it.

A sharp gust of wind had it curving up and launching toward Elion. The red cherry that moved through the air gleamed brighter before it struck his eye and sizzled out. Tendrils of smoke rose into the air as the large man let out a roaring cry that had me flinching. He reached for his eyes while his friends stood shocked, blinking at their friend sounding his pain.

While they looked shaken at the sudden and unexpected development, the man who had stopped his approach appeared unfazed and indifferent.

Before Jarvis or Quinn could decide their next move, Elion released a snarl and rushed forward. He pulled out a curved blade from the inner pocket of his worn jacket as he charged the man with an anger-filled cry. His actions spurred his friends to follow. They clutched their blades in their hands as they joined Elion in his attack.

Despite having three men rushing him with weapons drawn, the man stood with his hands tucked into his pockets, calm and unperturbed.

It quickly became clear why when Elion reached within striking distance of him. He barely had a chance to draw his arm back to strike before he was thwarted to the side by an invisible force that had him slamming into a wall. The multi-story building shook at the impact, freeing fine dust and rubble from the brick as Elion dropped to the ground unconscious.