I rub the oil over my skin, taking my time to really massage the kink out, knowing Hawke waits for me below, no doubt grinding his teeth in frustration.

With a whispered sigh, I let my head fall forward, fingers digging deep into the muscle at my shoulder before I roll them out and get dressed.

The laces on the corset top pull tight, cinching in at my waist, but not uncomfortably, the velvet black material almost sinking into my flesh like a second skin, thick bands curling over the curve of my shoulders, showing off the sharp collarbones I'd been blessed with.

I pull my long dark hair into a ponytail, sweeping it off my neck even as curls fall out of the haphazard pony, drifting out to kiss my cheeks.

With lashes as dark as my hair, and eyes the richest hazel, I could admit even to myself that I was gorgeous.

Enticing even.

I blink back at my reflection.

I was a product of my species so I guess it was to be expected.

With a sigh, I pull the lace skirt over my hips, fiddling with until it sits how I want it to, draping almost sensually over my thighs to skim my calves.

At last I pull on the knee high lace up boots, the worn leather fitting snug to my legs, shaping to the curve of my calf after years and years of use.

The sound of feet stomping up the fragile steps has my eyes rolling and I turn to the door just as it's shoved open, Hawkes massive frame taking up the open space, his signature scowl in place.

"If you don't fucking move in the next three seconds I will throw you in a cell myself."

"No need to get your knickers in a twist." I murmur, moving past him and down the stairs, glancing back at him over my shoulder as I reach the lower level of my shop, ignoring the carnage that still lingers down here, ignoring that ever present stench of blood.

"Well, are you going to lead the way, Enforcer?"

He doesn't answer, his scowl almost seeming to grow scorching, death lingering in his eyes.

"What are you wearing?" He mutters, eyes skimming down my figure.

I look down, before quirking an eyebrow at him. "Clothes?"

"We're going hunting."

I shrug, finding humour in his suffering. "A girl has to find pleasure in the small things."

He doesn't say anything, only moves past me, his face showing exactly what he thinks of me.

I follow behind with a grin, even as my heart pangs looking back at my shop.

Locking down the emotion, I follow behind Hawke, tuning into my instincts as he leads the way down the winding cobblestone path, his shoulders tense, an air of danger wafting from him.

• • •

The moon is high up in the sky, the only light to gaze upon us besides the occasional streetlight, but those were few and far between. Especially on this side of the city.

It's silent between us, as it had been the last few hours, the only noise the sounds of our shoes hitting the floor.

A crash echoes into the night and I stop, turning my head towards the sounds, trying to pick up any more noise, seeing Hawke doing the same before he's putting one foot in front of the other, stalking for the gap between two warehouses.

I follow him with my eyes for a few seconds, seeing the hunter beneath his skin, his steps promising death to any who cross his path, war practically burning in his gaze.

He stalks into the alley, his head moving from one corner to the next, glaring around the space as if waiting for something to appear from thin air.

He stops suddenly, his head snapping to the side and inhales. "It was here."

I stare around the small space, my eyes catching on the specks of blood splattering the wall, not enough to mean something but enough to capture my attention.

I turn my eyes back to Hawke when he moves towards the wall, reaching behind his back for the short swords strapped there, sliding them from their spots.

They look at home in his fists, his fingers curled around the handle as if they're an extension of himself.

It was a beautiful sight to see.

Not that I would ever tell him, no, the man would probably run one of those swords right through my heart if I so much as uttered a word of praise towards him.

Not that it would kill me, but it sure would hurt like hel.

Suddenly, he grins in conquest, his eyes alight with a danger so potent I can practically smell the smoke, smell the deprivation in him.

He turns those eyes on me, and I tilt my head back, raising a brow.

"They'll be back." He murmurs, hunkering down against the brick wall, short swords gripped tightly in his fists folded over his bent knees.

I cross my arms, staring down at the enforcer, at the man in front of me. "So you're just going to wait around?"

Those dark eyes of his come up to mine, his face twisting into a disgusted scowl.

"Do you have something better to do?" He says the words as if I couldn't possibly have something to do on a Wednesday night.

And he would be right. But I'm not going to let him win.

"I do." I supply, stepping back and letting my back rest against the opposite brick wall, facing Hawke.

He scoffs under his breath, "Of course you do, I don't know what I was expecting from someone of your breeding."

I grind my teeth, already knowing he has an issue with my species and what I have to do to survive but I refrain from taking the bait.

A hollow chittering sounds, echoing almost silently around the building, bouncing off the brick walls like a greeting and I tilt my head to listen carefully, vaguely noticing Hawke do the same.

The sound gets louder, becoming a noticeable clicking noise before I feel a rush of air slam towards me, then the searing pain of a slice against my chest.

Gritting my teeth against the pain, I plant my feet into the ground and retrieve the long dagger from my boot, narrowing my eyes at the empty space, hoping for anything to show where the creature is.

Hawke swears low under his breath before jumping back, swiping viciously with the swords in his grip, the whine of the metal shifting through the air sharp in my ear before the thunk as it makes contact with something.

The air shifts again, just noticeably and I watch it like a - well hawk; trying to predict the next movement but it's in vain, the creature - whatever it is - moving too fast for even the wind to aid in the fight.

I slam my back into the wall seconds before I feel the talons dig into my side, sharp stinging pain encompassing my side.

With a grunt, I push forward, finding Hawke in front of me, lifting one of his blades high in an arc and bring it down swiftly.

A high pitched keening noise sounds out before abruptly cutting off and then silence reigns, the only noise the sounds of my own harsh breathing.

I am not a fighter, haven't been for years but tonight has made me realise I might need to start back up again if not for any reason then to wipe the disgusted look off Hawkes face.

Hawkes dark eyes connect to mine, disdain sharp in his features, blood blooming from his chest, three long slices marking his flesh.

I straighten, ignoring the darkness in his gaze and focus on healing my wounds, feeling the energy pool out of me as the skin knits back up, sealing tightly like it was never there even as I feel my energy deplete a little.

Finally I look back at Hawke, lifting a hand, "I can heal-"

Disgust slithers over his face and he takes a step back, "You're not touching me."

I drop my hand, blinking at the hostility in his voice and smile close-mouthed at him, "fine."

He doesn't acknowledge the word, turning and stalking away, his footsteps lengthening the distance between us quickly.

"If we don't find this creature soon, I will be throwing you in a cell myself." With these parting words he begins to leave, stalking back the way we came.

"You know I had nothing to do with their deaths." I say to his back, watching the muscles tense.

"Do I?" His voice is filled with disbelief, "Hard to believe a creature known for their deception and selfishness, especially one who lives above the very place they died and should be aware when the gateway to Hel is opened and closed." He spins then, his dark eyes pinned on me. "You may not have laid a hand on them, but I doubt you didn't know it was happening."

I don't have the words to throw back at him, don't even know what to say to plead my case and he scoffs, turning and beginning to stalk away again.

"And where were you when your two partners were getting murdered?" The words are out of my mouth before I have a chance to pull them back, watching him come to a startling stop before I notice his fists curl and then he continues, as if he didn't hear me at all.

Watching him stalk away, the exhaustion swoops in quickly, stealing my breath and I quickly start walking, mentally mapping the way to my favourite club, knowing I need a hit before I can rest for the night.

With a resigned sigh, I begin the short trek, my brain too muddled with invisible creatures, grouchy enforcers and dead wanna-be boyfriends to think of much else.

• • •

"Hungry?" The creature below me whispers seductively, their hips lifting below mine, small hands resting loosely on my hips.

I'd been here minutes at most and already creatures had flocked to me, knowing exactly what I was here for.

And I couldn't blame them, nor would I deny them.

I stare down at the pixie with hooded eyes, tracing her delicate features. "Famished." I say, curling my hand into the back of her auburn locks and bringing her lips to mine.

The hit is instant, energy coursing through my blood like ecstasy, renewed.

The pixie moans, her energy like a smooth melody drifting down my throat, soft lips smoothing over mine like we're dealing a secret.

My hands move, clutching at the back of the girls slender neck, keeping her face to mine even as I feel her hands slacken, dropping from my hips.

With a resigned sigh I pull back, letting her friends take her away before another steps forward.

Looking at the man, I shake my head with a woeful grin, "That's all for tonight." He looks dejected before I give him a wink, "Maybe next time."

"You said that last time." Darius whines, his bright orange hair falling into red eyes.

"Be quicker." I grin and push off the lounge, walking by him with a sway to my hips - courtesy of the pixie energy coursing through my veins.

The cool night air hits my face as I step out of the club, the fresh energy coursing through me, lifting the tension from my bones. The high from a pixie was always intoxicating, a temporary escape from the relentless weight of responsibility hanging over my head but it never lasts long.

With each step, my boots click against the cobblestone streets, echoing in the quiet night. I don't bother looking over my shoulder, knowing that even if Hawke were still lurking in the shadows, he wouldn't follow me here. This wasn't his world, and it never would be.

His contempt lingered in my thoughts, the venom in his voice when he spat accusations at me still stinging. But what bothered me more than his hatred was the kernel of truth buried beneath his words. Could I have missed something? Had I been so wrapped up in my own survival that I overlooked the danger to others? It was a possibility I couldn't afford to ignore.

My fingers brush absently against the hem of my skirt as I replay his disgust when I went to heal him, the distrust and I couldn't blame him. The truth was, I didn't even trust myself anymore. Not entirely. Too many lines had been crossed, too many choices made in the name of survival.

I quicken my pace, feeling the familiar ache in my chest, an emptiness that even the rush of pixie energy couldn't fill. This city, with all its secrets and dark corners, felt more like a cage every day even if I had made it my home.

The door to my shop creaks as I push it open, the faint scent of herbs and potions a comforting reminder that this was the only place where I held any real power. I take a deep breath, letting the familiar smells ground me. The carnage of earlier still lingered in the back of my mind, but I shove it down. There would be time for that later. There would have to be.

As I lock the door behind me, I feel the weight of exhaustion pull at my limbs. But instead of collapsing into bed, I find myself drawn to the mirror on the far wall, my reflection staring back at me. The face that looks back is the same as it's always been—perfectly formed, alluring, dangerous. But beneath the surface, I see the cracks. The weariness etched into my eyes, the doubt simmering just beneath my skin.

I lean closer, tracing the curve of my lips with a fingertip. "What is going on?"

My reflection offers no answers, only the hollow beauty of a creature who has lived too long in the in-between, caught between the underworld and the surface. I had been cast out, punished for a crime I did commit but one that I was already punishing myself for enough.