THE SIGMA'S MATE

CHAPTER 11 - BAD COMPANY

I slide from my tattered seat as he takes my thin arm into his firm grasp. I ignore the electricity that ignites at the contact of his skin. I push aside the way my body desires to melt into the touch. There's an urgency about his usually confident movements that make my heart begin to race horribly. What kind of company would have the Sigma concerned? Has the Libertas somehow found me? Is this another attack? I glance quickly around the room when I'm on my feet, scanning for the unknown danger. Five men stand near the entrance, hooded and clothed in the colours of night. Likewise, they are scanning the sad pub, but when their eyes land on the masked Sigma and I, they smile sinisterly.

"When you get the chance, princess. Run." He stresses the last word as three of the men draw weapons.

Alaric uses his arm to push me further behind his muscular body as the cruel looking men charge forward, in broad daylight. They seem unconcerned with the witnesses inside the pub as they viciously attack us. Alaric immediately engages the men, dropping one almost instantly. But he's straining to keep them all at bay. I am not a fighter, there's nothing I could do other than get myself killed trying to join a brawl I have no part in. So instead, I slip past the men as quickly as I can manage and start running like hell is chasing me to the door. I hear heavy footsteps slapping the floor behind me, but I don't turn back to see who's following. There's got to be the Sigma's warriors around here somewhere. I just need to find them. My hand stretches out towards the farm style doors, brushing against the old wood before I'm drawn back painfully by my long hair. A scream tears from my throat as I'm thrown to the floor, smacking my head against the tiles with a sickening sound. I groan, fighting against the desire to vomit as a mean looking man stands above me with his feet spread apart confidently. He stretches his long fingers towards me with a ugly smirk.

"Sleep well." He chuckles as his fingers light up with the glow of fire.

I suck in air, the lights flickering above me just as someone barrels into the fire bender. The fire bender misses his mark, the ball of flames instead sets a table alight. Alaric finishes him off with a violent snap of the bender's neck. He pants, clutching at his stomach.

Sweat lies in layers on his forehead, "We need to leave! Right now!" He insists and I am not one to argue with sound advice.

"Who are these people?" I ask, tears springing to my eyes as I rub the back of my head.

He stretches out the hand not holding his stomach. It shakes as I place my smaller one into it, letting him pull me to my feet. My vision blurs and my ears ring before finally clearing. Alaric keeps a firm hold of my hand as he leads me from the pit of a pub.

"Where are we going?" I ask, trying to keep the tremble from my voice. Something is wrong, I can feel it.

"Somewhere safe." He tells me.

I don't get a chance to reply as we are swallowed up by the mass of people moving along the unkempt streets of downtown Halmara. I clutch Alaric's hand harder as people bump into us without apology or care. Some even have the audacity to frown angrily at me while passing. I'm scared to lose him in the masses - scared to be alone in a place that I am not comfortable in, with powerful benders chasing after us. There could be more than just the five Alaric managed to kill. Alaric is pulling us towards an empty alleyway. Alaric seems frantic as he bullets for the shadows that the apartment blocks promise, pausing the moment we break through the crowd. He releases my hand suddenly as he collapses against the brick wall of the tall building, still clutching his stomach.

"Alaric!"

His breathing is labored. I touch the black combat suit beneath his cloak to find the material wet. I lift my hand hesitately to find it coated in blood. I wipe the evidence of his injury away on my own clothes frantically, the tears slip down my pale face unchecked.

"What can I do? Tell me what to do?" I beg him, pressing my hand over his flat hard stomach as he just concentrates on breathing in and out of his mouth.

"I'm thinking, Lyra." He manages, his voice giving away the pain he feels.

"There you two are." A voice says from the alleyway entrance.

My blood turns cold. I slowly turn to see a monster of a man strolling towards us with evil intent. He lifts his hand… Alaric and I only have moments to drive out the way of his fire ball as if explodes against the dark brick wall. Great! Another fire bender. I hear Alaric fumbling for his weapon, cursing loudly as the bender walks up to me.

"Lyra, run!" Alaric shouts, desperation thick in his tone.

I rise to my unsteady feet, my chest moving rapidly as I breathe. Fear seems to choke me as I look into the cold eyes of the man in front of me. At least then I cannot degrade myself by begging. A smile breaks across his bearded face as he lifts a single finger. The tip is pointed at me...and then the flame shoots forth slamming into my chest painfully. It's as if someone has knocked the air from my lungs, leaving me coughing violently. But I don't burn. The assassin stares wide eyed and with his mouth parted. Clearly, it isn't the result he expected either. He stumbles backwards.

"Basileum, forgive me!" He says, stumbling backwards some more. In another moment, he turns on his feet and flees the alleyway as quickly as he appeared.

I don't know what he just called me. I've never heard that word before today. Alaric seems to be looking at me strangely, sweat running down the sides of his face. He has managed to get to his feet again, still dependent on the wall for support.

"We should keep going." He says, his voice strained.

"Okay." I say, walking over to him and offering what little support I can. "Alaric, are we going to someone that can help you?" I ask in a small voice, feeling the weight of his body leaning against me. It feels good, if this was any other moment...

"Yes." He breathes.

Somehow I don't believe him. We are about to be engulfed by the relentless crowd once more when a familiar face appears. I don't know how he found us or if he has been following us the entire time but Jayden is like a God-sent. I can't even speak when he steps up to take Alaric's load. Alaric grumbles but accepts the assistance. The relief makes it easier to breathe.

"Where are we going?" Jayden asks calmly and Alaric names an address.

I wouldn't know where to go but Jayden seems to know the street as he nods and tells Alaric to hold on. I follow closely, holding onto Jaydens jacket as we push through the crowds. The looks are more curious now than before. People eye us with suspicion as Jayden basically carries Alaric to the street address he named. No one offers help, they simply pass by as if it is an everyday kind of thing. We move uptown to a nicer area of Halmara, until Jayden stops outside a nice enough apartment complex. Alaric uses his thumb to let us into a room on the second floor. It's small - an open-plan living area that only excludes the bathroom. I grab towels from the linen cupboards as Jayden deposits Alaric onto the plain double bed before stepping back. I quickly move to help Alaric, pressing a towel to his stomach in an effort to slow the bleeding.

"He's lost a lot of blood." Jayden says, looking at the masked Sigma.

Alaric grunts, struggling to lift his hand, so I help him. "Don't cry." He mutters. I didn't even realise that I was. "When you wake up, I'll be better." He promises.

"What? How?" I ask, confused. "I'm not going to sleep, I'm going to help you! You need help, one of your witches…"

Then I watch him press down on the face of his gold ring that sits snugly on his right hand. I find myself wondering what is going on when a bright light engulfs the entire room.

*

"Thank you Morr." Alaric says, pulling his tight fitting shirt back over his head. The skin doesn't even show a scratch when only moments ago a nasty wound bled.

"Death's reapers were already waiting for your soul."

He doesn't doubt it. The Goddess can see the servants of other gods and they could be sure that the Death God will know of Morrigans visit to this world.

"You cannot take chances like that child!" the Goddess of War, Morrigan, says with reproach.

Alaric finishes positioning his unconscious mate next to her guard on the bed where they can sleep off the effects of the Goddess's presence.

"I had no choice. I could not very well have called you in the middle of Belmont street at the peak of the day." Alaric says, taking a seat and running his hands through his hair and over his bare face.

"You could have died." Morrigan snarls in anger, power radiating off of her body like heat waves.

Alaric almost chuckles to himself. If this world thinks the prince is terrifying when angry, they would die instantly at the front row of the Goddess of War raging. With only a thought, Morrigan could change the entire landscape of this tiny apartment and even the entire country if she so wanted to. But this is not her realm. Here, other goddesses reign supreme.

"I know." Is all he answers to the divine being as old as time.

The Goddess's purple coloured eyes slide to the young werewolf girl on the bed and then to the slumbering warrior beside her.

"Who are they?" Morrigan asks sternly, peering at the sleeping werewolves.

Alaric casts a quick glance back at Lyra. "The Princess of the Werewolf Nation and her guard. He is part of Lazarus's inner circle."

Morrigan raises a brow curiously, "Why are they with you? I thought the royals did not like you. Wasn't it only the other day that I let you out of one of their prisons?"

He doesn't answer. Alaric racks his brain for an answer that wouldn't lead to more unwanted questions and finds nothing at all.

"Are we keeping secrets now?" The Goddess asks sweetly, "Did I not hear you reject her offer of a bargain?"

Alaric knew she would have heard that considering that it is her power that allows him to secure souls. She is the true collector of souls.

"You did." He answers, sounding tired.

"What does she want?" The Goddess presses.

"She is not even sure. I couldn't accept it even if it would have benefited me greatly. However, I'll work with her, training her as she has asked."

"You are too kind." She states disapprovingly.

Alaric's jaw clenches at her condemning words. "You taught me better than that. Kindness has nothing to do with it."

"Perhaps she is someone special then?" She prompts and Alaric smiles.

"She is no one special Morr." He assures her and she believes him. She's never been given a reason not to ever since they met when he was sixteen, fighting against unfavorable odds to protect his family.

Morrigan narrows her eyes, "Good. I can't have you distracted with those pesky Demi-gods stiring trouble again." She comments as Alaric approaches her. She smiles warmly, lifting her hand to cup his cheek. "Come see me when you have your affairs straightened out here. Don't keep me waiting child, it's time to move our armies again."

"I'll see you soon." He promises and the Goddess of War blinds out of existence.

*FROM AUTHOR :

Soooo... What are my lovely readers thinking?