[Revised]
Zara's breaths came out in small white puffs as she bounded across a back patio. Her backpack slapped against her back with every step. The darkness weighed heavy upon her shoulders. The air was thick and hard to swallow, like the growing bud of uneasiness in the pit of her stomach. Not only did her earlier concern occupy her mind, she sensed that something bad was going to happen—no matter how hard she tried to concentrate on other, less pessimistic thoughts, the feeling remained. She was charging towards her target with a mental picture that was blurred around the edges; nothing good would come out of that.
I should warn them.
Zara jumped with catlike agility over a ledge, then crouched down low and held her breath.
Her ears picked up on the sounds of the night. A high-pitched warbling from cicadas lurking amongst the foliage. Sporadic chirping, from crickets camouflaged against the undergrowth. The ensemble gave the atmosphere an unearthly quality—it made her skin crawl.
Everything but the sound of her friends' footsteps. A dog howled in the distance.
She stiffened.
Where are they?
Rustling.
Zara's hackles immediately rose, and her jaw reflexively clenched. She unsheathed a knife from her ankle holster in a flash, ready to strike. She had expected trouble, but not so soon. Had Saffron really gotten sloppy?
Zara waited for any more tell-tale sounds of danger. Back arched, senses fully alert, Zara kept the weapon in front of her but hidden from view.
More rustling.
Something plopped down behind her, but before she could register what it was—or who it was—she swivelled around and lunged.
Her body connected with the assailant's. She used brute force to pin them down against the ground, forearm pressed against the windpipe, knife against the jugular.
From the string of profanities that left their mouth, Zara judged that it was a male.
He writhed violently underneath her, so she pressed the edge of the blade against his throat—a warning.
"I'm—Orion!" The person gasped, voice hoarse. He stopped struggling, and she felt his body relax underneath her. His breathing was ragged, mimicking a panting dog.
Zara lifted the knife and inconspicuously pushed it back into its sheath. She climbed off.
Orion rolled to one side, clutching his throat with both hands and curling into foetal position. His boots scraped against the grass, causing a strong, herbaceous scent to prickle her nostrils.
"You're leaving behind a lot of evidence," Zara said impassively, shifting from a kneel into a squat.
Maybe I went overboard there.
She felt a twinge of guilt, but one could never be too cautious especially in a situation like this. Orion should've simply informed her of his presence instead of pulling a magical appearing act.
"Maybe if you didn't jump me like a psycho, I wouldn't be."
"You were the one that snuck up on me!" She curled her hand into a fist and clamped her mouth over it.
Don't. Let. Him. Get. To. You.
If she kept bickering with him, she could wake up the whole neighbourhood.
"What's going on? You're being really loud," Aurora said, now beside her. There was irony to be found in the statement. The only reason Aurora wasn't convulsing on the ground with Orion was because her stealth mirrored an angry buffalo's.
YOU ARE READING
Deadly Secrets
General Fiction[NOW FEATURED IN GENERAL FICTION!!!] Everybody has secrets, something to hide. Some say your secrets are your blood; when you shed too much of it, you die. For Zara DeRealis, nothing is as heavy a burden as her tempestuous past. Orphaned as a young...
