Sienna's Thorn [Paused]

Chapter 3

Moving away from the suburbs, deeper into the city, Agamore strode like a king through the shadows, like he owned the very ground he touched. Head held high, his antlers seemed like a great crown. He stalked through the streets and alleys without a sound. Dradawl sat perched behind one of his antlers, hidden amongst the flowers, watching.

Rounding a corner, they were met by the surprised stares of five teenagers, sitting around a fire in a barrel. Agamore stopped and looked around, even as the youths jumped to their feet, instantly alert. Five of them, two girls and three boys. The eldest, eighteen years, the youngest, thirteen. He knew at a glance. Too old for his taste, but they'd do.

'What the hell are you?' the eldest asked, a young man with a black leather jacket, torn jeans, and spiky black hair.

The demon smiled, let his eyes travel over the group, settling on the youngest girl.

'Hey! I asked you a question, freak!' the leader yelled and stepped in, a switchblade in his hand.

Agamore turned his attention back to the loudmouth, watching the blade with a raised eyebrow. 'I heard you, kid,' he said.

'Who are you, and what are you doing here?'

'I'm walking, I believe,' Agamore replied, smiling. 'Didn't know it was forbidden.'

'Well, you can't walk here. This is our turf.'

Agamore looked around the narrow alley and snorted. 'Not much to brag about,' he chuckled.

'Fuck off!' The leader shouted and thrust the knife towards the demon.

Seemingly without effort, Agamore seized the knife and twisted it out of the young man's grasp, turning it around in his hand. Grabbing the loudmouth, he flung him back against a wall, poising the knife against his throat, smiling wickedly.

'Shit!' the leader yelped and raised his hands in the air. The other kids yelled and drew their own weapons, knives and metal pipes.

'Now, if I wanted you dead, you would be,' Agamore drawled, pressing the tip of the knife against the leader's throat, nicking his skin. 'But I'm feeling generous for now. Are we friends?'

'Yeah, yeah, sure,' the leader gasped, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.

'Great!' Agamore turned the blade around and handed it back.

The boy took it with a shaking hand, staring. 'Uh... what... thanx,' he stuttered. 'That was... That was quite impressive,' he said and gave a somewhat forced laugh.

Agamore tilted his head in acknowledgement. 'I know.'

'You're not too humble,' the leader chuckled. 'I'm Sif. Who're you?' He held out a hand.

Agamore laughed, delighted. He grabbed the kid's hand hard and shook it, enjoying the pained expression on Loudmouth's face. 'You can call me Gore,' he said.

'Gore? That's an odd name,' one of the other boys stated.

He was the youngest of the boys, only fourteen. Tall and muscular, he had the body of someone who regularly goes to the gym. It looked like someone had put a child's head on a twenty-year-old athlete, Agamore noted. Babyface.

'It's what I'm called,' he stated and walked closer, the vines swinging from his antlers, petals scattering around him.

'What are you?' the oldest of the girls asked, staring in wonder, a hand resting on Sif's shoulder. She was seventeen, thin and blond with too much makeup. She wore a short skirt, high tight leather boots, and a black top. Her arms were covered by dozens of bracelets, jingling with her every move.