Sinner's Promise

Chapter One

          Jiro sighed softly as she stared down at the dark, busy city below her. Cars drove past, music blasting from thier stereos, people walked leisurely laughing with companions, completely unaware of the true chaos surrounding them veiled by the night. Watching. Waiting. Making silent promises to feast on the sins of man.
        Jiro felt only sorrow for mankind, unable to stop the evils casted upon them. She could only watch as souls were lost to the darkness. With one last glance at the city below her, she stepped off the ledge of the tall building.

        Air rushed past her, its coolness soaking into the leather covering her body. Her hair was blown behind her, the wind's fingers entwined in the auburn curls. Her arms stretched out at her sides, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the feeling of weightlessness, as if the switch to gravity had been shut off, leaving her floating.
        Her eyes slowly opened to see the ground approaching at an quick rate. Her instincts took over and her body prepared for the hurtling stop that was to come. Her legs positioned under her as they came into contract with ground, and unbelievable amount of weight crushed down onto her crouching body, forcing the air from her lungs. The pressure left her breathless and feeling light headed as she stood up slowly.
           Her hand slowly slid to the hilt of the weapon at her waist. The cool metal against her skin brought a small sense of security. Darkness leaked into every corner, filling it up and leaving Jiro feeling enclosed in the tight space between walls.       
        Her eyes traveled around her, unable to make out anything. This darkness was unnatural.
       Eyes closed, Jiro inhaled softly, a small grin playing on her lips.
        "You're a horrible sneak, Isiah" she said boldly into the darkness.
         A strong scent of masculinity, and fleeting sweetness. It was a scent that warmed your body, one that soaked into your skin and made you crave to smell it always, a scent that teased you for centuries, a scent that promises a night of endless pleasures and satisfaction. The signature scent of seduction.
           Hardness pressed flush against her spine, molding to her back, warmth leaking into her suit. That scent soaking into her mind and lulled her thoughts momentarily. The hair covering her shoulder was moved, baring her neck, a warm breath showering her flesh, a deep, lilting voice in her ear.
          "Who said I was sneaking, 'hero'?"
  His words broke the trance she was in, replacing her thoughts. She growled softly as her anger rose. Her weapon was quicky drawn, as she whirled around, intending to drive the blade clean through the body of demon behind her. But all her blade cut was air and blackness. It was as if he was never there.
        She listened intently for anything, breathing, movement, evidence to give away his position. She held her sword in front of her, both hands steady, her stance ready to kill.
           "Then," she spoke, her voice clear and daring, "why don't you come out of hiding? "
         A soft chuckle resignated deep within his chest, making her shudder.
         "My dear hero, if I did as you asked, this wonderful game would become unfair. Its pretty faces like mine that makes angles like you weep with want."
       Jiro's blood heated with unpending anger at his words. For eons her kind had been persuaded to fall into the hands of evil, slaughtered and nearly wiped them out completely. He mocked her race, knowing it would get a rise out of her.
      "You bastard" she whispered, her hands shaking slightly with barely contained fury.
          Unable to think clearly, she charged toward the voice, her sword prepared to end. A slight breeze brushed past her and one of her arms were wrenched behind her, being bent painfully at a wrong angle. Her sword loudly clashing against the pavement. She ground her teeth as she was held captive, pain rippling through her body.     
   "You're not as strong as you think you are, Jiro. Time has made you weak."
            She was pushed forcefully against the cement wall of the alley, her head bouncing hard off of it. Pain exploded within her skull and stole her breath away, making her dizzy. Hands gripped her shoulders and kept her pinned against the wall, no intention of letting her go.
          "Such a waste, you used to be so feared, so cunning and skilled. Peace has stolen that hard resignation from your eyes." his voice was warm and sweet against her ear. It was as if he were whispering complimentary words instead of bringing her into the true, harsh reality.
          She breathed hard, anger swelled in her chest as he spoke. Memories of great wars flashed in her mind, deathly cries rang in her ears, friends and loved ones slaughtered in cold blood.
         Her hand quickly grabbed the small dagger within her boot. She drew it up and with a blistering force she drove it into the flesh of the demon before her. The thick scent of blood filled her nostrils, the metallic stench clung to the back of her throat, gagging her.
         A quiet, strained sound came from his lips, his grip tightened further, making Jiro wince as her aching muscle was dug into, but still, she didn't back down from him.
        "I may have grown weak, but my hatred for you has never diminished. And I will kill you and the rest of filthy race. You're a monster, a murderer with no heart," she took a deep breath, regretting it instantly as his scent suffocated her,"I hope you rot in hell."
         A soft sound warmed her ear, almost like an amused breath. Isiah's words were strained slightly, anger lacing his voice, "If I had a heart, I would have given it to you centuries ago".
           His warmth fled from her body, his hands disappeared, his scent vanishing. The darkness went away along with everything else, leaving Jiro alone and shaking slightly.
        "Damn." she muttered, her head and body hurting worse than before. Her vision blurred as light poured into the alley, the smell of blood, the light, and the pounding within her skull caused her to vomit. She leaned against the wall, feeling a little weak.
The sun had risen, leaving the sky a light blue of early morning. She cursed softly at herself. She let the bastard get away...
         She stood slowly, letting her mind get a grip. She needed a bath, his scent clung to her skin like dirt. With his blood splattered over her shoulder and arm, Jiro started walking home with whatever darkness the alleys still provided.