Paragon

⊰❉⊱ 77 ⊰❉⊱

"Ms Helland is expecting you." The receptionist informed me, offering a hand for my coat. I left it hanging.

"Please." I stated, waiting to be lead further into the dining space. 

That was not the case.

I was lead away from the room filled with mortals and towards one of the bronze doored elevators. Twenty five minutes late and counting...

"Minus three." The mortal stated simply, before returning to his duties before the rest of the diners for the evening.

I frowned as I pressed the lowest number. I wasn't even aware the hotel went underground, save for parking... What kind of dinner did this Elder have in mind? It took only moments and the doors opened again.

But this I did not expect. I was looking at the lower level wine cellars. The arches and brickwork reminded me of Victorian sewer lines–only much better maintained and filled with wooden barrels. I cast my eyes around, the cellars were lit only by ancient mounted wall lights–

A strike to my chest took me off my feet and drew a snarl from my lips.

I rolled onto the balls of my feet and cast my senses out. No heartbeat. No fear diluting the air. 

"What kind of greeting is that?!" I demanded, feeling the rage simmer in my Elder blood, rising to meet any threat–any challenge.

The next strike took my legs out from under me. I snarled and rolled to pin my back against one of the brick pillars. She was fast. So very fast... No warning sounds or even shadows to betray her presence–

"You have become soft, immortal." She murmured close, or perhaps far. The curves in the cellar distorted the sound making it hard to pinpoint an Elder's position. She'd change it the moment she spoke either way. 

I shut my eyes and drew in every bit of my senses into a fine point. One that would sense the moment a body began to move before it did, one that worked inside the shadows and one that would finish this game...

A hand closed on my throat and ripped me off my feet.

I blinked my eyes open in stark surprise and even an edge of fear that I had not felt in a long time. She was more than shadows, she was power I did not have.

Selena Helland regarded me with a frown. Before she dropped me unceremoniously onto the ground. Her military jacket was back in place, with all of its polished brass and all the contempt she could muster upon her sharp features. 

"Have you not maintained any of that skill that has kept you alive?" She uttered.

I growled low but was not foolish enough to strike her back. I righted my coat before noticing the holes she had made and shrugged it off entirely to leave only my shirt.

"You call this dinner?" I demanded.

"You're not even an appetiser." She dismissed, circling me.

I scoffed, watching her right back. Every stride, every tilt of her head, the sharp focus of the half golden irises. 

"How many centuries has it been?" I asked, nonchalant.

She ignored me. Hellbent on another line of thought.

"I'm starting to regret my choice in alliance..." She murmured, scanning my form. "–they said you were Cordius' best."

"I am." I stated flatly, without room for negotiation.

"Well, I need better." She stated, stopping before me and meeting my eyes with intent. "I need better than the rest to consider what we are about to pursue."