Divine Deception

Kiah

Unlocking the door to my apartment causes a sharp pain in my arm. Damn that masked bastard! I may not bleed to death but it still hurst when I get sliced and diced. Thankfully I managed a decent one-handed bandage after I left the park and found a quiet spot to rest in. He was intense in his ability. That and the fact he wasn't shitting his pants at my demon form hinted he was Consortium. It was a matter of time before we came face to face in this decade.

I flip on the table light next to the door, the soft glow enough for me to see, and toss my keys onto my kitchen counter. Walking over to my fridge, I grab a beer and replay the fight in my head. If the masked man was a brotherhood assassin like I'm guessing, he has been very well trained. They normally don't have that much force in them to be able to deflect my attacks like that. He was able to push me around more than I'm used to. I pop some pain meds with a swig of my beer and try to recall anything identifying about him.

He happened to show up on this night just in time to stop me from executing my target. I rack my brain but can't think of where I may have seen him before. The only reasonable answer, he must have crossed my path. But I am meticulous about not leaving any part of my self behind to track. I need to call Shelly and see if she can find something I missed. I glance at the clock on my microwave, three in the morning. It can wait. She had been tracking me all night and I don't want her to skip an important detail if she's tired.

It took most of my walk home in shadows, but I calmed enough to change back to my human form. It is convenient that I can manipulate my clothing when I change, it saved my leathers each time. It takes my demon little energy to do it.

Sitting on my bed and gingerly take off my vest to avoid the bandage. The pain meds won't do a whole lot because of my divine DNA but it takes the edge off just enough. The alcohol is the best numbing tool I've got. It does something to my system, like a cat with catnip. I can't get drunk, but it blisses me out. I finish the can and set it on the bedside table with my phone.

I lay back on my pillow I try to relax my muscles. My thoughts drift to the masked man. In the quiet I hear my door handle jiggle. Rolling my eyes I ignore it. It's probably the drunk that lives down the hall. He always thinks why door is his when he's plastered. The noise stops and then I hear a click just before the door slowly opens. The light of the lamp next to it outlines a tall figure, clad in all black with a mask on. What the fuck?

In a fluid motion I'm off my bed with both feet on the floor and the dagger from under my pillow in hand. "What the hell are you doing here? Back for seconds?" I begin to yell and then drop my voice. I don't need my neighbors being nosey before I kill this guy.

"I'm here for more than seconds." He growls and takes striding steps to stop right in front of me. His boots toe to toe with my bare feet.

He reaches for my neck, and I feel the warmth of his palm settle. My brain won't react, to slap the hand away, to cut him with my knife, nothing. Fingers on either side of my throat gently squeeze, not enough pressure to restrict me in any way but enough to get my attention. My mind is screaming at me to shove him away while heat pools in my belly at the same time. What is happening?

"Thinking you could walk away," shaking his head, he rubs his thumb against my jaw. "Your first mistake was thinking I wouldn't find you." The voice behind the mask is slightly muffled but husky and deep. He tips my head up to meet his eyes, but I can't make out their color.

"I don't make mistakes. Why did you follow me? I warned you it would end badly if we crossed again." I manage to sound unaffected while I know my pulse under his fingers is giving me away.

"You didn't leave me much choice, did you?" pulling me closer by the hand on my neck he presses his body flush with mine and I feel his hard length against my belly.

"The fact you got hard because we fought is not my problem." Swallowing past the hold he has on my neck is difficult and strangely erotic.

Did this guy really get this raging boner from our fight? I bet it's just socks rolled up or he's got his gun stashed there or something. As if he is hearing my thoughts, he rolls his body into mine. I stifle a moan, definitely not socks.

"I'm making it your problem little spark." Using his free and bringing it up to his neck he grabs the edge of his mask.

Pulling it up enough to expose the bottom half of his face to me I see a strong square jaw with a sprinkling of dark stubble on it. A full bottom lip with a perfectly arched cupid's bow upper lip forms a smirk as he watches me stare at his mouth. I press my thighs together to try to stop the ache that has developed during this banter. I'm unsuccessful and even worse, he knows exactly the effect he has on me in this moment.

The smirk fades as his grip on my throat tightens. He uses his hold on me to bring my face closer to his as he bends down to meet me in the middle. My lips part when his warm breath flutters across my face. I search his eyes before closing mine, anticipating his lips. I unconsciously raise up on my toes, the ache in me turning into a wanton mess. I briefly feel his lips brush mine before he pulls away.

"So eager little Pinkie Pie." He murmurs as he increases pressure on my neck once again. This time the grip is punishing, and I feel like I can't breathe. "So trusting of a man when you can't see his face."