Allyson blinked several times in quick succession. It brought her clarity for maybe a second. In that single second she registered one thing: something was controlling her mind.
That couldn't be right, the only person here was the gorgeous man in front of her. He was so...delicious.
" Look at me Allyson," He asked.
Allyson was more than willing to cooperate. He was so beautiful, she'd do anything for him, he deserved it. Then she remembered the second of clarity. She needed more clarity, but why?
" Of course," Allyson drawled.
Allyson had learned to trust herself in the past few years and she trusted that she needed clarity, even if there was no reason.
" How can you fight me?" He asked, it seemed like an interrogation.
Fight? Allyson wasn't fighting, but she should. She dug her nails into her palms. Pain caused her to automatically flinch away, but she kept digging and haze disintegrated from her brain.
" Who are you?" Allyson hissed menacingly.
He looked surprised, but not as gorgeous. Yes, he was good-looking, but Allyson could think, and she tensed, reached for her knife and it wasn't there.
Her head snapped up as she tried to grab his soul, her magic bounced back, hitting her with it's full force. Her head snapped back and hit the red leather.
" What are you?" She amended.
" The name's Nicholas Johnson, pleasure to meet you," He responded, flashing a smile.
That's when she noticed how totally cliché he looked. He was wearing a suit, his hair was in "organized chaos", and his smile was big and charming.
Allyson desperately wanted to ask,. 'Now which TV show did you come from?'. Business first.
" Answer my second question," She demanded.
" I'm a magician chérie, same as you," Nicholas explained .
She glared at him. Allyson spoke French, along with many other languages (Both mystical and otherwise), and he probably did not. He looked like he'd never worked a day in his life. He probably got his lines from a movie.
" Except, I owe a favor to the council and I need your help s'il vous plaît," Ah, so that's what he wanted.
Again with the French.
" Pas moyen de l'enfer," Allyson hissed, it meant 'no way in hell'.
" Come on cher, you haven't even heard me out! Just once, for a pleading amor?" He was practically begging.
" What did they assign you and why would they assign you?" Allyson narrowed her eyes and put emphasis on the 'you'.
It was obviously curiosity that made her ask.
" I'm going to ignore the implied insult. I am a very good magician, and I specialize in certain magic that will help me with this particular task," The words were smooth and their was no sign of hesitation, but Allyson had the feeling the words were dragged out.
" Oh really, now what is it that you have to do?" She asked, then his words registered in her brain, " Wait what kind of magic-"
He cut her off. How rude. " It's a clan of naughty witches, they are very dangerous and should be eliminated."
That was confusing. " They would sent a single magician?"
" Now that's why I need you cher," He responded, then looked at the waitress and paid. Allyson didn't even eat. That reminded her, why was she here and where was her knife?
