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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1100733-Wings-and-Thorns
Rated: 13+ · Novella · Thriller/Suspense · #1100733
He's running, she's hiding, and they're wanted dead or alive. They can't hide forever...
Prologue


         Daniel watched her as she slept. Her golden hair spilled across the pillow like the sunlight that streamed through the window, highlighting the line of her throat and the soft curve of her lips as she sighed, deep in a dream. Without meaning to, he matched her sigh, running a finger over her eyelids. She stirred at his touch and he quickly withdrew, careful not to wake her.

She was so soft… skin like rose petals, hair like silk, a kiss like candy floss. With a feeling of something like regret, Dan lifted the covers gently and slipped from the bed. Panther like, he crept into the hallway to collect his passionately discarded clothes. As he buttoned up his black shirt, he started to pick up fragments of broken glass from the lamp that had been thrown to the floor in the fit of their passion the night before. Quietly, he cleared the mayhem they’d created and folded her clothes carefully, leaving them on the chair at the foot of her bed.

He stayed to watch her a few more moments. It was harder to leave when they were still asleep. In some ways he didn’t want to go at all. She was a sweet girl, a nice girl, for all her intentions when she’d brought him home last night. It was so rare his life was touched by such sincere sweetness it was hard to walk away. Hard to imagine that she’d wake up to wonder if she’d only dreamed his touch on her body, if the lingering scent of him was real. Hard to leave her without a kiss goodbye.

But he did. He walked out of her front door and down the street, and the next, and the next… and when he hit the next town he was still walking, disappearing into the brightening morning light.


One



         The razor blade was sharp. Dan welcomed the friction as he pulled the edge against his skin. The bathroom mirror was steamy, but he used his fingers to feel his face – clean. There was a freshness and a sense of liberation in shaving away the growth of his beard every time he had the chance – it was like the cleansing of the guilt that played on his heart. A clean face. A clean start.

“Thorn?”

“I’m almost done here.”

The door opened a crack, and a feminine hand shoved a pair of black jeans and a fresh shirt at him.

“Here. New as ordered.” The voice became teasing, throaty. “Don’t you want me to come in and help you put them on?”

Dan thought about the dark haired Raven on the other side of the door. It was tempting.

“I’m fine here thanks.” He grabbed the clothes and slammed the door shut. He needed to keep the relationship here clean. His chances of survival diminished without the Ravens.

There was a pause outside the door and then the sound of high heels as they clipped away down the corridor. As Dan struggled into the new clothes, there was another knock at the door. With a sigh, he opened the door.

“Look, I told you-”

“Shut up, Thorn.” Angela’s gloved hand grabbed him by the shirt and yanked him out of the bathroom. “You have to get out of here now.”

Dan stumbled down the stairs behind the Head Raven. “Well, this was a short stay.”

Angela turned to face him, her small frame even smaller as she stood on the step below him. Even from his extra advantage in height, the Raven leader demanded respect and to a certain level, fear.

“Shut up, asshole. You're putting us all in danger!” She hissed.

Dan caught onto her urgency. “Can I go out the back? What about my weapons?”

“Still being cleaned. Here,” Angela pulled out two feather shaped, heavy handled black daggers, and a loaded gun. “Have mine.”

“God, Ange, I can’t take your weapons-”

“There’s no time. Besides,” She winked carelessly as she dragged him down more flights of stairs, “That means I get yours.”

“Now wait a minute!”

“Collateral.”

“Deal.” Dan paused at kitchen door. “You realise if I use the daggers they’ll know you’ve been helping me.”

“They’ll have to prove it. By the time they come to check I’d hope to have them back and cleaned.” She gave him a piercing look to tell him that it was no suggestion. “Clear?”

“Perfectly.”

Dan slung the daggers into holsters on his belt, shrugged on his leather jacket to hide them and hid the gun in his deep pockets. “I’ll be back.”

Angela nodded to him and clasped his hand in hers. “May the wings guide you.”

Dan gripped her fingers. He knew the correct response. “May your feet never touch the ground.”

She nodded to him. “Now go.”

         He slipped out of the door and joined the bustling crowd of passers by without missing a beat. Strolling along, Dan could feel his fingers clench and unclench, the palms of hands sweating. Something was wrong.

The glint of a pair of dark sunglasses… Dan had a split second warning as he saw black whisper past a woman on his left… another flash, the flick of a hand reaching into a black boot for a dagger… As he felt his jaw clench, he gave up his cover and surged through the crowd, slipping past the crowd with barely a brush for a shoulder.

They would spot him easily now if they were above… no time to check the roof tops, they’d be watching for the man in black running through the crowds… better not slow down, better not slip, trip, knock into someone. Nothing more deadly than a track of fallen people, angry pedestrians looking over their shoulders…

A scream. Piercing, painful, pleading.

Dan turned his head. People were slowing to listen, to wonder where the sound came from, but no-one was going to investigate. As Dan slowed he realised that the black figures had passed him. Confusion.

If they weren’t after him, who were they after? Why would they change their goals after three years of constant pursuit?

Again, that scream.

It broke into Dan’s thoughts, and it hurt. But it was unthinkable. To go after her, to go after them was immediate danger. It was walking into the lion’s den. Worse than that, it was crawling into the lion’s mouth.

Dan’s jaw clenched as the girl gave out another helpless scream, and terror and anger flooded his senses. Her terror. His anger. He could ignore her, but as his teeth ground against each other he knew he couldn’t ignore his intuition.

He swore, swinging to his left and following the sounds of screams. One hand clutching his gun, Dan didn’t hesitate as he rounded the corner to a small alley way. He barreled straight into the wall of black figures standing around a ladder, one by one climbing up to reach the small girl perched on the edge of the wall. Gun shots rang as Dan was surrounded by flying bullets, fists, losing track of which shots were his, whose face he was punching…

And then they were gone.

Shaking with surprise and the adrenaline of the fight, Dan watched in confusion as the black figures turned and ran. It was unbelievable. Something smelt… burnt. Burning, even.

Turning, Dan watched as the flames licked quickly up the wooden ladder. He looked up at the girl, who cringed away from the flames. Moving closer, he held out his arms.

“Jump,” he called to her. She was a very long way from the ground – it would be a heavy impact. “I’ll catch you!”

“No!” she screamed, turning to try and crawl along the wall.

“Don’t be crazy, I’m here to help you. I’ll catch you, I swear,” he called to her, causing her to look him in the eye. “I swear.”

She looked down at him as if he were crazy.

“Why should I trust you? You could be one of them – and they want me dead!”

Dan grinned. This was no shocking revelation. “They want everyone dead. Now come on, I’ll catch you. You can’t stay up there forever.”

She looked at him for a moment more and then wobbled to her feet, preparing to jump. “And you promise to catch me?”

Dan was growing impatient. “I promise. Hurry up.”

Still she hesitated. Dan stared at her, willing her to jump. Just as he thought she would, she called “I can’t.”

“What?” Dan was incredulous. “What are you going to do instead? Stay there?”

“I can’t jump; if you don’t catch me I’ll break every bone in my body!” Her piteous wailing turned into an indignant snap. “What the hell are you smiling at?”

Dan said not a word, his lips twisted into a patronising smirk. Silently, he watched as a sleek tabby cat padded towards the stranded girl, pausing to run itself at her ankles, mewling. Startled, the girl looked down, shifting her weight. With a shriek, she fell into Dan’s open arms. They landed in a heap on the ground.

There was a pause as both caught their breath and checked for broken bones.

“Told you I’d catch you.”

The girl looked him in the eye and struggled to her feet, brushing herself down, and staring at the burnt up ladder. “You might have warned me,” she huffed.

Dan picked himself up and checked for his weapons. “Well it got you down, didn’t it?”

“Right. Well,” she looked nervously around and stepped away from him. “Thanks for the help… and the breaking my fall thing.”

“You’re welcome.” He gripped her wrist, hard. “So tell me… why’d they run away so fast? Where’s the trick?”

He spun her body into his as he pulled out a dagger and held it against her throat.

“What kind of rescue is this??” she demanded. “First you help me, then you threaten me?!”

“It doesn’t add up,” he growled, low, in her ear. “Where are they hiding?”

When she didn’t answer he shook her again. “Answer me!”

Dan felt her start to shake, but her voice held firm. “I don’t know; they tried to kill me! Don’t you think it’s highly unlikely they’re going to tell me what their plans are?!”

Dan slowly unraveled himself from her frame. He eyed her carefully. “Well, I suppose they’d be back by now,” he said grudgingly. “But if you have just double crossed me, you’ll be the first one to die.”

She glared at him, rubbing her wrist. “Gee, you’re charming.”

There was a silence as Dan sheathed the black dagger and prowled around the small area, ever watchful for a second attack. He turned back to they girl, noticing the way her hair curled around her face in a way that showed the hollows under her eyes to be the depth of someone who hadn’t eaten or slept properly in days. ‘I should know,’ he reminded himself. Softening slightly, he handed her a contact card for the Ravens. “If you need help, go to them, tell them what happened to you. They’ll help - they’re good people.”

The girl looked down at the card he gave her, mouthing the details to herself as he walked away. She hesitated, and then looked up after him. “Wait!”

He paused, his head turning to look at her. “Yeah?”

She chewed her bottom lip for a moment. “Can I go with you?”

A dark eyebrow arched. “You don’t know where I’m going.”

“I don’t care.”

“That’s not smart.”

“It’s smarter than you think.” She paused, regarding him from the shadows. “I feel safer around you.”

His laugh was brutal when it came, and left a gaping hole of silence when it ended. “Safe? I’m a target. If you think you’re safe with me, you’re insane.”

“But you know how to hide from them!” She stepped forward, and he saw her properly for the first time. She watched anxiously at him with eyes that were hidden beneath the shadow of her wavy dark drown hair. She seemed to be young, the vulnerability that he saw in the line of her mouth made him guess that she was no older than twenty. She also looked exhausted.

“I wouldn’t be a burden,” she insisted. “I can keep up, I can fight.”

“Oh yeah,” he snorted. “You were doing real well just now.”

“They caught me by surprise,” she said darkly. “I-”

“You have to be prepared, you have to be fearless, you have to be fast,” he said, stalking towards her, his tall frame filling her view and his dark gaze burning into hers.

She gulped, but she stood her ground. “Well why don’t you teach me what I need to know then?”

Surprised, Dan stared into her eyes. They shifted colour, from a deep green to a murky brown as quickly as her emotions flitted through her face. Fear, determination, fear, regret… and they all faded away and left him staring at sheer resolution.

Finally he broke his gaze away from her and sighed. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

Triumphant, she touched his arm. “Neither do you.”




         They’d walked all day, they’d crossed two towns and they’d spoken barely two words. Laura was beginning to think that she’d imagined that this dark stranger had actually spoken words to her. Although, come to think of it, she’d kept pretty quiet too. She was exhausted – it was hard work to keep up with his long strides as well as trying to stay sharp incase they were followed. She almost cried with relief when he stopped at a small, side of the road motel and asked for two rooms, his voice gruff and deeper than she remembered.

“I’m sorry, mate, we’ve only the one room left.” The man at the front desk looked suitably apologetic.

Laura watched her companion nod wearily and pull out a few grubby notes to hand over, and felt bad at expecting him to shell out.

“Here,” she said pulling out her credit card. “Use this.”

“No,” he said shortly, taking hold of her card with a look that told her that this was a subject not up for discussion.

“What was that?” Laura snapped as they reached the stairs, snatching her crad from his hand. “You think I can’t take care of myself?”

“You’re none too bright, are you, kid?” he flared at her anger. “You use that piece of plastic and they’ll sniff you from their beds. You think they’re not trying to track us right this minute?”

And that was all it took for her to feel foolish and insecure.

“I’m not a kid,” she said defensively as he opened the door to their room. “So don’t treat me like one.”

“Oh yeah, you’re really old,” he snorted. “You can’t be more than what, sixteen?”

He was winding her up, but she was too tired not to take the bait. “Actually, I’m almost twenty.”

“So you’re nineteen.”

“That’s what I said.”

“No, you said you were almost twenty.”

“What’s the difference?!” she almost screamed at him. She flung her backpack off and onto the bed.

“Be quiet,” he ordered. “We don’t want people to notice us.”

“Ooh, you, you, you-”

“Yeah that’s right - have a tantrum, kid.” He looked bored with the conversation and turned away from her.

Steaming, Laura slammed into the bathroom. ‘A hot shower,’ she thought to herself, ‘That’ll sort me out.’ She stared at her reflection in the cracked mirror. ‘You begged him to take you with him,’ she reminded herself. ‘It can’t be easy having to worry about both of us.’ The room steamed and she could feel the knots in her back begin to ease as she enjoyed the spray of hot water. Suddenly a blast of cold air hit her like a slap in the face as the bathroom door swung open.

“Only me,” her dark stranger said wearily as he washed his hands at the basin.

“Do you mind?” she hissed, sticking her head out from behind the shower curtain.

“Not at all.” He sounded vaguely amused, which incensed her even further.

“Get out!”

He turned to face her. “Why?”

“Because… because it’s inappropriate!” She fumed.

He smirked in response. “Don’t worry. You’re not exactly my type.”

“Ooh!” she threw a bar of soap at him. “Get out! Out now!”

“Alright, alright, keep your hair on…” he muttered as he exited the bathroom.

‘Good God,’ she thought angrily, ‘He doesn’t even know my name! Walking in on me… no knocking on the door…’


Dried and into a fresh T-shirt, she exited the bathroom. Her dark headed stranger had settled himself comfortably in the double bed.

“Where am I supposed to sleep?” she demanded.

“Well,” he pretended to think about it. “You could have the floor, although I don’t fancy my chances of surviving the cockroaches… or you could have this space on the other side of the bed.”

“Share a bed with you?!”

His eyes narrowed. “I wouldn’t be so upset. Like I said, you’re not my type.”

She regarded him for a moment, her stance stiff and unsure. Slowly, she stepped up to the bed and stood beside it.

“What’s your name?”

He looked up at her. “What?”

“Your. Name.” She spoke the words slowly, and a cheeky glint appeared in her eye. “Don’t you have one?”

“Why do names matter?”

“Because,” she said between gritted teeth, “I like to find out the name of a man before I spend the night in his bed.”

He grunted. “Thorn.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘Two can play at that game.’

“Rain.”

He snorted. “Like hell. What kind of a name is Rain?”

She met his gaze steadily. “What kind of name is Thorn?”

Surprised, he stared at her for a moment.

Triumphant, she slipped between the sheets. He reached across her to turn off the lights and she inhaled his musky scent. Something about it made her take a breath sharply, and when he turned to her she found herself staring into his dark, dark eyes. Everything about him was dark – the colour of his eyes, his slightly over grown hair, the black clothes he wore, the shadows under his eyes that showed up on his tanned skin now that she was so close.

A click, a shift of his arm, and they were plunged into darkness.

Laura held her breath – she knew that he hadn’t moved; he was mere centimeters from her face. She could feel the warmth of his breath heath her lips and she wondered wildly if he was going to kiss her, if he could hear how fast her heart was beating… wondered strangely how she couldn’t stand his presence but wanted to feel his lips on hers.

And then he was gone, with a rustle of the sheets.
“You should get some sleep. We get up before dawn.” His voice was even and deep.

Laura lay down slowly, listening to the sounds of the night. And before she knew it, she was asleep.



Two



         Dan left the bathroom the next morning toweling his hair dry, his clothes sticking faintly to his moist skin. He always enjoyed a long shower, the feeling of all that dirt washing off of his skin, the comfort in knowing you’re clean and dry.

“Are these yours?”

He turned to find Rain turning over one of the feather shaped daggers in her hands. He sprang forwards, his towel falling to the floor.

“Don’t touch those!” He cradled the blade, wiping her finger marks off the black surface with the edge of his shirt. “I borrowed them off a friend.”

“You mean the Raven Leader?” Rain asked casually as she picked up his gun and aimed it at the wall, measuring the weight of the weapon.

Dan stared at her. “You know more than you let on.”

When she turned to him, her gaze was honest. “You never asked.”

There was a pause. “Would you have answered?”

She shrugged, putting the gun aside and moving to pick up his towel from the floor. “That depends on the question.”

When she stood up, Dan found that they were face to face – so close that he could almost feel the searing heat of her gaze. Emboldened by the effect he was sure he had on her, he turned on his smile – the one that never failed to draw ladies to him like iron filings to a magnet.

“So Rain,” he began in a more intimate voice, “What’s your real name?”

She looked back at him coolly. “What’s yours?”

Surprised, Dan took a mental step back, before smiling and trying again. “Why are they after you?”

This time she smiled. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

Dan stepped away. “I guess you didn’t like those questions.” ‘I guess you like me less than I thought you did.’

She cocked her head to one side. “I meant what I said. You tell me your secrets, and I’ll tell you mine.”

There was a silence long enough to know that he wasn’t in the mood to share. Shrugging, she turned away. “Ok.”

But Dan stood still. “It worries me, what you’re not telling me. They left remarkably quickly yesterday. Hardly a struggle, and burning a ladder? Something’s not right. Either they’re up to something... or you are.”

She turned to him, shaking her hair out of the fire that burned in her eyes. “What you don’t tell me worries me too. But we’re both running from them. Doesn’t that put us on the same side?”

“Same side or not, I’m worried you’re putting us in danger.”

She looked at him, and her gaze grew serious. “We’re in danger anyway.”

They locked gazes for a moment, both questioning and watchful at the same time. The room was still as they waited for a response from each other – a glimmer of the truth, or a sign of peace... a truce.

Rain smiled. Tentatively, a smile that grew, spreading across her face. The slow extension of an olive branch. Waiting.

Finally, Dan nodded. A sign of respect for privacy.

‘For now.’



“The target is secure.”

Although he was blindfolded, he knew he was being circled. He knew there was a minimum of three guns trained at his heart. He had been following ‘Thorn’ for over three months, sleeping in ditches, hiding in garages, torturing and killing those who declined to give him the information he needed. He also knew that he did not know everything.

“This is definite? He has no idea?”

There was the scent of cigar smoke in the air, stale and musty, mingling with the smell of damp wood. A barn perhaps?

“I am sure of it.”

He could almost detect a large male head nodding.

“Good.”

A rustling of paper, some footsteps. He fought hard not to turn his head and follow the sound. Instructions to another figure in the room, this time further away. “Take this is to our contact.”

“Very good, sir.”

He waited to be released, to be taken back to the check point.

“Remove the blind fold.”

Startled, he felt the rag being roughly torn from his head, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. This was unusual, to be given his sight. Everything was so dark, so shadowy.

There was a tell-tale click as a gun was pressed to his left temple. “She will be pleased,” a familiar voice breathed in his ear. “Now say goodnight.”

The explosion happened before he could protest.




         “Where have you been?” Dan demanded as Rain fell into step beside him. “I thought you’d run away.”

“Would you have cared?” She answered snappily, pushing her hair out of her face.

“No. But it’s nice to be informed now and again,” He said testily as they snaked their way through the crowd.

“I asked you to take me with you, not to rule me.”

Dan snuck a look at her. She looked… happy. And she was carrying shopping bags. Lots of them.

“What’s in the bags?”

She tipped her face up towards the sun and smiled. “Shopping.”

“What sort of shopping?”

She opened a bag and leant towards him so that he could peer into them. There were black t-shirts, black jeans, black leotards, black jazz shoes, black sun glasses, black jackets…

“What’s all this?!” Dan stopped short as he grabbed her arm.

“I need to be prepared.” She looked at him steadily. “I get the feeling we’ll be doing a lot of fighting, and a lot of hiding. I noticed you wear a lot of black, and they wear a lot of black. There must be something in the colour. And I needed things I can fight in.”

He regarded her. The girl was full of surprises.

“Can you fight?”

“With my fists. But I’d like you to teach me how to use a weapon.”

Dan chewed his lip, undecided.

“It’s dangerous.”

“We’re in danger.”

“You have to have discipline.”

“So discipline me.”

Dan raised an eyebrow at her flirtatious smirk. “Don’t tempt me.”

Rain slipped a pair of dark glasses over her eyes, and handed him a pair. “I want to know what you know about fighting. You can keep the rest of your secrets.”

“Why do I get the feeling you already know them?”

She turned her face towards his. Even though he couldn’t see them, he could feel her eyes trained on his. “The way I get the feeling you’re working out all of mine.”



         “Thorn,” Laura began, her voice strained. “I don’t mean to be a pain, but is there any chance we could stop somewhere for a few days? All this moving is beginning to be painful.”

Thorn’s steps didn’t falter as he strode just ahead of her, his eyes alert as he scanned the street ahead of them. “Painful?” he repeated.

She reached to grab his arm forcefully. He resisted, and Laura tugged more insistently. Annoyed, he swung his arm around so that she was pulled to face him.

“Yes,” she said, annoyed. “Painful. We get hardly any sleep and walk all day. We don’t take taxis, we don’t take buses, we don’t take trains. I’m tired. And my body is starting to feel it – if we are attacked tomorrow I’m not sure I’ll be able to fight at all.”

He considered her for a moment.

“Alright,” he said slowly. “Maybe that would be a good idea. Perhaps a good time to stop and train you up for the fight.”

She smiled tiredly. “Where? Another motel? I think they’d hear us.”

“No. I meant somewhere we can stay for free.”

She turned to him with an open mouth. “You mean, like, squatting?!”

He rolled his eyes at her, short tempered, as usual. “No, stupid, somewhere legit. It’s so tacky to squat."

She was too tired to rise to the bait. “So where?”

“You’ll see.”

Irritated, Laura kept quiet. She was beginning to see that he was never going to volunteer information. “Well, how far is it?”

“Just the next town.”

Her lips parted in protest. Thorn shot her a look of disapproval. Much to her own disgust, she closed them again. It was worth the traveling if it meant she could rest at the end of it.


Dan was disturbed by the thought of where they were headed, but where else could they stay? She wasn’t used to this constant movement, that much was obvious. Himself? Well, he hardly even noticed the strain in his muscles any more. It was a way of life – it was to protect his life.

Rain’s head was bent in concentration, and he could hear her labored breathing. What had he been thinking, bringing her along? His instincts were telling him that she wasn’t dangerous, but his head was telling him to ditch her. She was just a liability.

Just then, she raised her head to look at him. He saw her bloodshot eyes, and as she chewed her gum with a slightly parted mouth, it dawned on him how young she really was. He wasn’t much older in years, but he had lived three times the life she had. Sometimes he wondered what it would be like to have a normal life, and considered how hard this must be for her.

“Here,” he said gruffly, “Give me your bag for a bit. I can handle both for a while.”

“No,” she replied stiffly. “You don’t have to carry my baggage for me.”

He turned to look at her squarely. “Give me the bag.”

“Why?” she asked, exasperated, and stopped to peer at him under her lashes, her eyes squinted against the slight drizzle. “Look, you’re already having to deal with my baggage, metaphorically. I’m sure I can handle a few changes of clothes and some spare shoes.”

The edge of his lips twitched into a careful smile. “If I’m already dealing with your baggage, what’s another pair of shoes?” and he held out his hand for her bag.

Quietly, she handed it to him. As they walked on, she surprised him by catching him by the upper arm and pulling him down towards her. She planted a quick kiss on his cheek, and smiled. He nodded and cleared his throat. Time to move on.




Three




         “What is this place?” Laura was overcome by the dark as they stepped into the hallway of what seemed to be a mansion.

“Just a place I used to live.”

She felt her way around, and suddenly Thorn flipped the light switch, basing everything in a warm glow. Carefully, she dropped her bags and shrugged off her coat.

“A place you used to live, but you still keep up with electricity bills?”

He threw her a warning look: don’t go too far. “It’s useful sometimes.”

“Ok then.” And just like that, she dropped it.

It really was a huge house. And nicely furnished. Did it belong to his parents? She couldn’t bear to ask, the way he was avoiding looking at anything in front of him. Following the hall, she found a few bathrooms, the living room and then the kitchen.

“I don’t know what food we have, but we can go and buy some food tomorrow.” Thorn had followed her in and was pulling open drawers and cupboards.

She balanced herself carefully on a tall chair by the window. “How long are we going to stay here?”

He shrugged. “A couple of weeks. A month at most. But you need to get rested up, and you need some training.” He turned to look her in the eyes. “I know you’re not used to all this, but you need to get used to it.”

She flared a little at his tone. “I can do it, you know.”

Laura felt his gaze like a hot flame as he looked her over with pessimism in his eyes.

“Well, you’ll train, and then you can decide if this is really the life for you.” .e said presently. He held her gaze steadily. “If you went home now, I’m sure there are people who can protect you. You could have a normal life, none of this crap.”

She looked at him incredulously, leaping off her chair to stand right in front of him. “Thorn, what is so good about a normal life? I have a minor problem in mine: someone is trying to kill me. And you know what, yeah it’s dangerous and it’s scary, but it’s happening - and right now, I’m living more than I ever have before. So we’re running, so we’ll have to fight – so what? We’re alive, Thorn. We’re alive, and what we have to do to stay alive… well it’s more real than most people get in their entire lives.”

He stared at her, inches from his face. “You’re crazy.” He murmured. “Do you know what I’d do, who I’d kill, to be able to live normally? To feel that I’m doing the same thing every day, day in day out? It’s not fun after five, six years. It gets boring, it gets tedious… you never get to rest. And the opposition, it never stops. You think you’ve got to the head of it, and then you find out there are more layers.”

Laura sucked in her breath, shaking her head. “But don’t you see? It’s exciting.”

He looked at her, and she held his gaze, watching him watch her. Finally he took her face between his hands and smiled sadly. “You are so young.”

Mesmerised by his closeness, she whispered “You’re not so old.”

When he stepped away from her, she felt the rush of air between them like the barrier he was so reluctant to relinquish. “I wish I felt it.”

And with that, he swept away into his big, dark house, and left her standing alone.


         He had put her in a huge bedroom at the top of the house. It had a skylight she had been instructed to keep covered at all times, and a separate bathroom.

Much as Laura relished the novelty of the huge lagoon style bathtub she had to share with no-one else, it felt strange to be so far from Thorn. They had fallen into a pattern of smelly, small hotel rooms where they shared the same bed to save money.

Besides, there was safety in numbers.

As she lay in the dark listening to the rain pattering on the window above her head, Laura wondered if he would hear her should she scream. Should she have to scream. Surely, with his name on the bills They would check here, have the place under constant surveillance? But, as the last four days had proved, they seemed to have abandoned hope that Thorn would return home, that they could ambush him in his own bed. It made her wonder how long it had been since he had been back here.

And where did he get his money from? He obviously held no job, but yet there was always cash at hand to pay for a hotel room, to pay the bills on this magnificent house.

It also bugged her (more than she cared to admit) that she still didn’t know his real name. They had been in each others company constantly for nearly a month and yet all she knew about him was that he had secrets. And lots of them. She had to admit though, it was exciting. A new way of life. To be on the run with a man (although she would never admit to herself just how handsome she really thought him) who she didn’t know, didn’t know his name, who didn’t know hers, who fought like a demon and walked like a cat –this was a situation she had never dreamed she would be in. Who could have known?

If she was entirely honest, scared as she was, Laura felt a bit cheated and a bit disappointed that she hadn’t seen a single scrap of fighting since she had been chased up a wall. In fact, despite the suggestion that she would be trained in combat whilst in the house, she had hardly seen him. He seemed to be constantly locked in a room on the floor below hers, and when she pressed her ear to the door all she ever heard was the rustle of papers. Sometimes she smelt the smoke of a cigarette; surprising as he never smoked on the road. She supposed it made him smell? Nervous? Both? He mystified her and she couldn’t get enough information out of this house. It had been cleaned of all photographs, personal items and mirrors (‘Why?’ Laura made a mental note to find out).

But, out of all the questions Laura had in her head, the one she wanted answered was when she was going to get to use the two beautifully crafted hand held daggers (burnished gold, with a tear drop shaped blade and a small handle, perfectly molded to fit petite hands) that had appeared, wrapped in leather, in front of her door the night before.



         The training, when it started, was intense. Dan was sure she had bruises in places she never knew she had – as it was he hated to see the blue and purple marks he had left on her arms from a tight grip, hated to see her limp after she flew solidly into a wall, hated to see the surprise in her eyes when he slammed into her jaw. In fact, he was surprised to find that he hated hurting her, at all. But they both knew he had to be rough – she didn’t have time to be molly-coddled. She had to know the real thing, now, and to fight it, now.

Rain was a quick learner, he soon found. She learned to block, parry, lunge, defend very quickly. In fact, the only thing she hadn’t learned to do was to follow through. If she hit him, she winced in pain for him and stopped abruptly. It was beginning to scare Dan – they had been staying in The House for three weeks already, and she wasn’t ready to go out there yet… but if they stayed much longer they ran a risk of being found.

So he attacked harder, pushed deeper, and finally made her angry enough to hit him and keep going.

“You are weak and pathetic.” He had growled one afternoon, as she lay on the floor, pinned under him. Disgusted, he had shaken her, angry and disappointed. “You need to fight, you idiot, or you’re going to lose your life.”

“I’m fighting.” she had growled. “Why don’t you cut me some slack??”

“Oh,” he sneered, “You think they’ll cut you slack? They’ll cut your throat, and I’ll have to watch them and listen to you trying to scream… and you know what? It won’t hurt me a bit. Because I’ll be rid of you. You’re pathetic. Stop wasting my time and go home to Mummy.”

Angry, he had rolled off her and picked himself up. He was totally unprepared for it when she tackled him to the floor, grabbing his knees and using hair, clothes… anything to pull herself up to slam her fist over and over into his face.

After the initial shock of her attack, Dan pushed himself up and grabbed his ‘spear’ – a pole made out of wood from a tree in the back garden – and slammed the point into her back. Screaming, Rain raked her fingernails down his face, hearing him howl and rolling out of the way of the next shot.

“Take your staff,” he had grunted, preparing himself in a position of defence. He was surprised at how quickly she had responded, leaping for her stick and holding it above her head in a style of attack that was left over from the crusades.

They circled each other, waiting for the first strike. When she lunged, he parried quickly. Over and over she tried to hit him without much success. When they pushed at each other, he had moved his face so close to hers that she could see the sweat dripping from his hair.

Hit me, Goddamn it,” he snarled.

And that’s when she hit him. She struck his jaw so hard he sprawled backwards, and a jolt of pain and electricity juddered through him as he hit the wall. She looked magnificent – her teeth bared, her eyes wild – this was the wild cat he had prayed for, fought for, begged for.

They flew at each other, punching, hitting, staffs smashing together in a frenzy. And then it was there – her first victory. She slammed her knee up into his groin so hard he saw stars in front of his eyes.

“Jesus Christ!” he choked and doubled up, gagging. She watched him pitilessly, the point of her staff at his throat, the angry haze receding. Eventually he looked up at her, and smiled. “You win.”

Exhausted, he threw his pole to the side, and doubled over again, clutching at his knees, trying to regain his breath, letting the pain wash over him.

“Why’d you choose the pseudonym Thorn?”

Dan looked up, panting and trying desperately not to be sick. “What?”

Rain, composed as ever, leant gracefully against the wall, her eyes closed. He let his gaze run over her, the shine on her face, the strands of dark hair that stuck to her cheeks and her neck… the heavy fall of her breasts as she fought for control over her breathing. He took in the slight tremble of her hands as they lay flat against the concrete behind her, and the strain in the leg she bent to rest against the wall behind her. She was tired.

“Why did you choose to hide behind the name ‘Thorn’?” she asked again, her eyelids flickering open so that he was hit with the full force of her green gaze.

“What makes you think it’s just a pseudonym?” he avoided eye contact as he lowered himself to the floor.

“I know it is.”

Running a hand through his hair, Dan squinted up at her. “I guess because it sounds strong. It sounds lonely, prickly. You don’t want to be hanging out with a thorn, do you?” His laugh was guttural, self depreciating.

Rain slid her way down the wall so that she sat with her back against the wall, and stretched her legs out in front of her, crossing them at the ankles. “There are always other thorns. What makes you so lonesome?”

“There are other thorns,” Dan replied slowly, “But not many people want to be one.”

“What makes you so lonesome?” she asked again, probing.

Dan squinted at her in the dim light. “Do you always ask such deep questions?”

“Maybe.”

He sighed irritably. “I guess I’m lonesome because I want to be. I’m that lone guy who wants to be a thorn.”

Rain nodded. “And thorns protect a delicate rose, a soft center - a tender heart.”

“Enough of that,” he almost barked, aware of the direction she was heading. “Why the name Rain?”

She didn’t try to beat around the bush the way he had done. “I guess…” She paused for a moment, her lips parting in effort to find the words. “I guess because I feel like my whole life it’s just been raining.”

Dan looked at her again, the faraway look in her now murky brown eyes, the downward tilt of her head, the stillness of her body, and felt a squeeze at the base of his ribs. When she turned to look at him, he was mesmerized by the bleakness in her gaze, like she’d cried so much in her short life, she had nothing left to cry for.

“You see,” she said so softly he had to lean forward to catch it, “We’re not that different, you and me. We’re both running from ourselves.”






Four


         In the end, they were at the house for twenty-five days. As they hit the three week mark, Thorn had grown increasingly irritable. Laura found herself staying silent as much as she could around him, and though she worked harder than ever during her training, the best response she could rouse from him was a hard, flinty nod. He spent every minute that they weren’t in the basement in his room, and the smell of cigarette smoke clung to him constantly.

Their last day came as a surprise to her. She had knocked sharply on his door in the morning when he hadn’t appeared for training, sweating and panting from her workout. He swung it open, fully dressed in his trademark all black and his bag slung over his shoulder.

“Five minutes.” He barked at her as he stepped past her and descended the stairs.

“Five minutes?”

“We’re leaving in five minutes.”

Cursing, Laura had thrown herself up the stairs and into the shower. She had been packed and ready to go for the last week, and she slung her own black clothes on, tucking her new blades into her boots. She left her hair wet, and crashed her way down the stairs to where he was waiting by the open front door.

“I said five minutes,” he snapped as she strode out into the sunshine. “And you were supposed to be practicing not to sound like an elephant in a china shop every time you move fast.”

“The expression is bull in a china shop,” she retorted, “and with no notice I moved pretty damn fast.”

He was locking the door behind them as she surveyed the house. She hadn’t seen the outside in the daylight yet – in fact she hadn't seen outside in weeks. The building was impressive; elegant, yet homely. Red brick and large dark windows stared back at her. All, except one.

“Shit - I left the light on in the kitchen,” she told Thorn miserably, waiting for his grumpy retort. He had already passed her and was walking away.

“No, you didn’t.” he replied.

She looked back. He was right. The kitchen window was as dark as the rest.

“But, I…”

He didn’t stop walking. Shaking her head, Laura took off after him, racing to catch up with his long and silent strides. ‘I must have imagined it,’ she thought hazily to herself. The sun was strong and the breeze cool. Laura lifted her head and inhaled the summer air.

“Where are we going?”

Thorn slid a sideways look at her. He paused before answering, as if trying to decide how much to tell her.

“I’ve got some… errands to run.”

She looked at him sceptically.

“Errands? That’s the best you can do? We’re in this together. Tell me what’s going on.”

“Fine.” He glared at her. Was she ever going to cease to be annoying in his eyes? “I have to return the wing blades to the Ravens, and I need to get my own weapons back. We need to restock on cash and food; and I need to get some information.”

“Are we going back the way we came? To the Ravens?”

“No. They have factions pretty much everywhere.”

“How will we get the cash?”

“I have allies.”

Laura thought for a moment. There wasn’t much in that she felt she could press him more on.

“What information?”

He ignored her. In his current mood, she felt in no way ready to push it.





To be continued... Please R&R!



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