It was easy to forget how old Levira was.

If someone didn't know her, they would never guess she had seen the birth and death of six centuries. There were many mysteries surrounding the succubus, and Levira seemed content to keep it that way. In fact, she was as close-lipped as a clam about her origins. Every time I thought I would find out more, I found us talking about something entirely different.

Danger in this world comes in many types, and many would look at her think she was an easy mark, but nothing could be further from the truth.

Levira dealt in secrets, and was as efficient with them as any sword, spell, or firearm. It was the highest of ironies that she owned an establishment famous for ensuring no violence between its walls. Then again, opening your door to bloodthirsty criminals and Deified alike made that a very good idea. It was a simple concept that was strictly enforced. Keep your business outside the walls, or punishment would come for you.

"I'm surprised to see you working," I said, downing my fifth Oblivion Dew. Levira smiled enigmatically, resting a high cheekbone on her hand.

"Oh? Should I not be?" she asked in a purr. I offered her a skeptical glance.

"Your sons were just torn apart. Literally," I said, stretching my neck as I sent Myra another look. She was well into her conversation with the blonde next to her. Despite everything, I was glad she was at least having a little bit of fun. This was the only place within a hundred miles that served drinks laced with magic. Don't get me wrong, I had come here with purely selfish intentions to try and forget Death's order, but this was a nice perk.

Levira surprised me by smirking.

"Oh, that's right. Wasn't their execution around...a week ago? Am I right?" she asked, and I nodded in confirmation. Her expression didn't change. Not even in the slightest.

"Such a pity I had to miss it," she said disingenuously. I offered her only a raise of a single brow, keeping my mouth shut. Levira chuckled, shaking her head as she ordered yet another round. She played idly with a fingernail as the bartender immediately placed another few bottles in front of us.

"Sweeting, the thought is appreciated, but am I supposed to waste time mourning rapists and murderers?" she asked, this time pouring her own glass. I did the same.

"They were your sons," I said simply, eyeing her in my periphery. She snorted, somehow managing to make even that look beautiful.

"I am quite old, and I have had several children over the centuries. Trust me, I'm well aware that not all of them are winners," she said, swirling her glass. The red liquid within glittered and changed to a deep black as parts of it met the air. I wondered what she was drinking, but knew better than to ask. All I knew was that no drink on the menu was red and black. Yet another mystery.

"I was actually surprised to see you, of all people, daring to show her face here," she said, looking at me through the tops of her eyes. I met her gaze, not daring to flinch.

"Am I not welcome?" I asked, a shard of dread penetrating the cloak of relaxation that had come over me.

"As far I'm concerned, my lovely, you are always welcome within this establishment," she said, her eyes straying to the patrons around us, "However, many of the others know at least one person, you have murdered, arrested, or terrorized."

Her voice lifted as she spoke, attracting the attention of others around us. I narrowed my gaze at her and every face that was now locked on me.

"Then it's a good thing there's no violence allowed within your walls," I said, returning my full attention to her, "And I told you I wanted to forget who I was for a while."

"Darling, I have given you time to forget, and now that time is at an end," she said in the tone one would use with a child throwing a tantrum. I started, but she held up a manicured hand, small claws peeking out from the fingers.

"And, for the record, I disagree with you. You didn't come here to forget. You came here to remember what drives you,"

"You're in an oddly talkative mood," I said tersely, rolling my eyes. Levira's own eyes suddenly carried the weight of centuries, her posture unmoving.

"All of us who taste immortality need it from time to time. And right now, I see that need in your eyes. I would be a poor friend indeed if I failed to remind you that, though time has passed, the underworld of Luradia has not forgotten you."

She leaned closer and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, even as her eyes looked over my shoulder to a figure I felt coming.

"And no matter where you go, no matter how fast you run--"

"I'm not running--"

"You will never outpace your sins."

A significant look at the Marks on my neck.

"As long as you live."

I ground my jaw, setting my glass on the bar with too much force. Levira gave me a wry smile as she tracked someone over my shoulder.

"And maybe that underworld, that past, is closer than you would like to think."

A meaty hand landed hard on my shoulder in a crushing grip.

"You. What's your name?" came a man's growl from behind my back. I took a moment to shake my head disapprovingly at Levira, whose eyes were dancing.

Damn. She meant that last part literally.

I shrugged the hand off before replying to him, turning in my stool as I did so.

"I've been called many names, right Levira?"

Levira reclined in her stool.

"Oh yes. They include bitch...whore.."

I opened my hands in an "oh well" gesture to the dark-haired man who glared down at me with black eyes. He had the brand of a hawk on his muscular forearm. The Sky Sharks. Not on par with the Pumas, but a formidable gang nonetheless.

"A lot of my names are inappropriate for polite company," I said as Levira continued to recite the various insults I had endured over the years.

"...harpy...banshee..."

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

The man's face twisted in a wide grin, revealing cracked bricks for teeth.

"There's a heavy price on your head," he said, curling and uncurling his fingers.

I stood as the man reached for me again, side stepping him easily with my hands in my pockets. He narrowly avoided crashing into Levira, who hadn't so much as paused in her listing.

"...carrion crone... shadow slut..."

I faced him fully as he rounded on me again. He had the look of a man who knew he had errored, but now the die was cast.

"Trust me friend," I said gravely as more and more people noticed the disturbance. I kept my posture nonthreatening, my hands still shoved in my pockets.

"...horse hag...cu--"

"This isn't the place to settle old scores," I said. Levira was cut off as the man kicked a stool at me.

I'll never know what he would have done next.

Before I could blink, an Incubus had caught the stool before it collided with anyone. An additional Incubus had the Sky Shark pinned to the floor at Levira's feet in a blur of swearing and limbs. The man writhed, but the Incubus held him with startling efficiency. Thankfully, the man redirected his ire at Levira and his captor.

"You'll regret this! You don't know who you're messing with! We were just talking!" he yelled. It was a testament to the discipline of the Incubi that they waited for Levira's order. The ancient Succubus looked at the man like a wolf would look at a gnat.

"Oh? You think so, Samuel?" she asked, amusement in her voice. The man, Samuel apparently, went still at his name. Levira took a long pull on her drink, eyeing the liquid ebbing and flowing within as she continued.

"Samuel Bloodless. A desperate and lonely boy that fled to the first gang that was willing to take you without asking too many questions."

A quiet laugh escaped from Levira even as my ears perked with interest. Bloodless? That was the name given to all bastard-born children in Luradia. Interesting.

Levira, with the mastery of a lead actress on a stage, allowed her words to take effect as everyone in proximity listened attentively.

"I will exercise patience since you apparently are new. After all, every young pup thinks they're invincible once they join a gang."

She inclined her head, her eyes two pieces of golden flame.

"Here's your first lesson about the underworld, pup. Within these walls, I am the sole law and authority," she said, tapping her left index finger against her jaw, the claws retracting.

"But in case you're tempted to forget..." she trailed off, her eye's flecking to the incubus holding him. In a blur of metal, a blade appeared in his hand. Samuel didn't have time to process what happened before his left trigger finger was detached in a bloody spray.

His dismembered digit rolled away, oozing blood onto the polished wood floor. He watched it, mouth open in a silent scream and his face paler than snow. Without further prompting, the Incubi hauled the man out of the Blue Flame, a finger short.

Gradually everyone went back to their business, drinks being ordered from every direction. Myra glanced my way, her companion still nearby.

"Well then," I said, trying to calm my racing heart, "I guess he won't be giving any high-fives anytime soon, will he?"

Levira let out a low laugh as Myra sputtered in indignation.

"What?" I asked, as a muscle feathered in Myra's jaw, "Too soon?"

A few more chuckles went out around the bar as people settled down. I meandered back to my stool, my thoughts already moving back to Oblivion Dew, when I heard a pretty female voice humming a small song. She wasn't humming it loud at all, as if she intended it only for my ears. A familiar song. A sad song.

A song that stopped me in my tracks.

Do you wish to speak,

of the unspoken night?

of voices made silent,

of eyes robbed of light,

a nameless fear named

We call her the Blight,

I closed my eyes as I listened, rooted to the spot. I had heard the song before. It was sung in all seedy taverns as a warning, and to let everyone who lurked in the underbelly of society what had happened three years ago. A song about the night a certain person had murdered nine hundred people in Grimwater. The melody was eerie, but not histrionic. Without the words, it could almost have been a lullaby.

Come all ye sinners,

Don't bother to hide,

Death's reaper has come,

You've had your last rights,

What is that claims your life?

We call her the Blight,

I located the source of the voice. Myra's companion turned, feeling my eyes on her back. The floor seemed to slid out from under me as she faced me.

Scars like an "X" were over each of her eyes, as if someone had once tried to cut them out, but had been too shallow to do any real damage.

Gods, the Puma from the Swooning Sparrow all those days ago had found us here. She stopped singing abruptly as a she smiled. Myra looked from her and then to me, her expression puzzled. The blonde went straight toward me, her body relaxed. The terrible scars seemed to glow in the low light as I watched her warily. We were silent for a moment before she spoke.

"Do you recognize me now?" she asked in a rough voice, her head canting to the side. She sounded as if she had just been screaming far too loud, and her vocal cords would snap at any word. It was strange to think that she was able to produce such a pretty sound from that voice.

Gods, she looked familiar, but I still couldn't place her. As if reading my thoughts, she nodded in understanding.

"It's alright. I look a bit different now," she said casually, gesturing to the scars. I furrowed my brow, trying to picture her without them.

And then it hit me.

"You were there that night," I said, my voice little more than a whisper, "The guard outside the Puma stronghold."

She nodded, laughing humorlessly.

"I'll remember what you said to me for the rest of my life. Do you remember it?" she asked, but my tongue wouldn't work properly to form a reply.

Yes, I remembered her now. The memory was like watching a stranger. I had snuck up on a lonely guard on the terrace of the Puma hideout in Grimwater. I had been so certain that this would be yet another dead end. Seven years of training and tracking Fayra's killer had yielded one disappointment after another. I was one with my shadows, climbing the building as easy as taking a breath. I had surprised a pretty young woman with blonde hair and frightened eyes.

Every Puma I had met thus far had spared no time in trying to kill me. Hells, I had wanted them to succeed. However, that didn't stop me from being pissed when it happened. But this one? She was so young. I had seen the attempt to be strong masking the terror. She had just stared at me, as if I were a devil here to drag her to the fiery pits, making no move to fight. That alone is what had given me pause.

Listen, my problem's not with you, I had said, curling darkness around my fingers as I gripped her throat.

You are replaceable to every person in that building. Are they really worth dying for? I had growled, tightening my grip.

So this is my one and only offer. Take. The. Night. Off.

And she had. I hadn't though of her again, but apparently she had been one of the only Pumas to survive that night. The night of hundreds and hundreds of dead bodies.

I swallowed hard as I saw the Puma from all those years ago take a deep breath,

Levira had been right. The past wasn't far behind.

"Rowena McAlister, Blight of Grimwater," she said, pausing at my given title, "My name is Ash Durveran. I owe you a blood debt, and now that the Gods have reunited us, I've come to deliver on it."

That was when I saw a man walk from the other side of the bar, red hair glowing like a beacon. I barely managed to keep my eyes in my skull as I recognized Zachariah. How he had managed to escape my notice until now was a great mystery of the world. The blonde with scars looked back at him as he approached, a significant look crossing between them. He then looked at me in that long and unflinching way, and I knew what he was thinking without him needing to say it.

Listen to her.

I collapsed into a stool, ordering yet another bottle of Oblivion Dew even though I had barely touched the other. I had a feeling that I was going to need it.

*******

The sun rose on another day in Luradia, colder than the last. Myra rubbed bleary eyes in the dawn, followed by Ash and Zachariah. My ears still rung with the words Ash had spoken. We had gathered in a small parlor for the better part of the night.

Though I hadn't slept in over a day, my mind felt clearer somehow. I lead Dusk out into the sun as the others trailed behind. I leaned down, patting Dusks shoulder as he shook in the sudden transition from warmth to cold.

"Come on Dusk," I murmured to him as Myra sat behind me, "Take us to the McAlsiter Gun Shop. I have a pistol that needs fixed."