Red tinted Corinne's vision. It clogged the air like blood, bitter and warm, sticking to her skin in a fine film. With every breath she sucked in, it pierced the back of her throat.

Her boots were like chains, lashing her feet to the hard floor of the Serpent's balcony. Below, the muffled thrum of music seeped through, strings persistently grating on even as hesitance shrieked their edges. What felt like a hundred voices folded over the top, each as discordant as the last.

She gritted her teeth, a growl building in her jaw. She'd always hated this place.

At her back was silence. If she pressed Micah into the furthest corner of her mind, she could deny that he existed at all. She was nothing but herself as she crossed the balcony in quick strides, a wary glance cast to the staircase, a stolen item digging into her side.

The window's latch slid away smoothly, and then she was slipping outside, curling her free hand around the lip of the rooftop. Foot flat against the glass, she shoved it closed behind her. The strain in her arm was a kind of relief, something to inject her energy into when so much of it jittered in her muscles. Something simple and practised to focus on.

Asariel's Heart was admittedly an added weight of complexity. She extracted it from the folds of her coat, grip on the roof whitening her knuckles as she pulled harder to keep herself steady. Electric heat crackled over the Heart's golden surface. She tossed it onto the edge of the roof, almost glad to briefly rid herself of its touch.

With both hands empty, it was easy enough to scramble the rest of the way. The stone tiles held firm beneath her as she twisted, sunk into a crouch, one hand reluctantly laid on the Heart to prevent it slipping down the slight slope. She'd been through so much to retrieve it that she might as well exert effort to keep it.

Rather than examine it again, Corinne lifted her gaze, surveying the sprawl of Anhren before her. It had been a fair amount of time since she last traversed the rooftops, and she couldn't deny how right this felt. After all, she was a shadow, trained to be swift and agile, to appear and vanish within the blink of an eye. Silent and deadly. The perfect killer.

The warm touch of Micah's skin washed over her palms. Teeth clenched, she reached for her rifle.

A quick scan of the street revealed what she was looking for. A dark form nestled under the cloth covering of a house a few along to the right, the gleaming barrel of some kind of gun poking out in tandem with the girl's face. Neither were angled Corinne's way. If anything, the gun had drooped downward an inch or two, lack of focus slackening her grip, despite how intently those distant eyes watched the window of the store room. So fixed on the glimpse of a scruffy angel that her target could wander unseen.

A rookie. The faintest edge of a smile twitched Corinne's lips as she raised her rifle, closing one eye to aim down its length. It was a highly impractical lookout spot to choose. A good hiding place, sure, but all it took was a keen eye and the girl had lost all advantage. It would be difficult to wriggle out of such a space if needed, and lying on her stomach for that long couldn't have been comfortable. It was time someone put her out of her misery.

"Do it, Corinne. Put him out of his misery."

Corinne tensed, her finger seizing a hair's breadth from her trigger. Her sigh emerged silent and heavy. Before she could give herself time to debate back and forth, she lowered her rifle, tucked its end under her coat as she hooked it to her strap, grabbed the Heart and scampered away.

Care and speed formed a shaky line for her to tread. With the additional weight, care's side spread further, hindering every step. She grew close to cursing it, but kept the words locked behind her teeth. The Heart was a much needed solution. It was more than worth all of this.

She leapt the short distance between the Serpent's roof and its neighbour, sliding over the tiles onto the opposite side, leaving the lookout far behind. Even if she had been spotted, she would be gone too quickly for anyone to follow. Righting herself, she continued on, sprinting from one rooftop to the next, the Heart's sparking warmth digging into her arm where she clutched it. She wouldn't have been overly surprised if it had begun to glow, illuminating her position and shoving aside the shadows she clung to. It would be just her luck.

And yet the journey passed on without incident. It was only when she slowed, swinging around a particularly bulky chimney and ducking into its shade, did the relief of that fully crash down on her. Panting, she pressed her back against it and tilted her head back.

This place was familiar. It marked the end of a closed-off street, one of the city's larger houses sitting plump at its end. Its roof split into two sharp Vs, leaving a convenient gap in the very centre, hidden from the rest of the world. Corinne's feet slotted easily into the narrow space. In the past, she'd laid on that flat strip of roof, wriggled under the poking tiles and watched the stars from beneath their shelter, though she wasn't small enough to do that now. She only stood, leaning into the chimney, searching for a calm breath.

Every part of her rattled. Her pulse thudded in erratic cracks of thunder, each too loud in her ears. Her bones wouldn't sit comfortably beneath her skin. Energy sang through her veins, bubbling up in her blood, hissing with ceaseless, abrasive fury.

Her spare hand curled into a fist. It ached. She thumped it against the stonework behind, a growl grinding over her tongue.

Idiot. How could she let it take control of her so easily? After all this time, was this all she was? Bitter and angry and always one misstep away from letting it run rampage over her thoughts?

She hated it. And the more she hated it, hated herself, the more the rage burned. It was a vicious circle destined to drag her down until she snapped.

If only to quash the urge to punch the chimney harder, she seized the Heart with both hands and stared down at it. Its golden colour was dulled, diluted by the shadow, but its silvery veins still sparkled with cheerful splendour. Their shade matched Micah's silver eyes almost exactly. The light in them never faded, not even when they were filled with tears. Pain only made them glow brighter, twisted with sadness and clinging hope. Certainly the dark of hatred could never penetrate their edges.

"Micah." His name emerged barely a breath, riding the tide of a quiet, humourless laugh. She sank down against the chimney, perching on one edge of the sloping tiles, pulling the Heart closer to her chest. Micah. A brat, she'd called him. Selfish and greedy and useless. The words had felt like fire on her tongue, but now they tasted of ash, dying away the more she listened to the echo of her own voice.

She dragged a nail over a glittering vein, feeling it scrape over the Heart's oddly metallic surface. It truly was laughable, in a sad, hopeless kind of way. After all, she was now the girl who'd nearly killed an angel.

That wasn't even the worst of it, in truth. Because Micah wasn't a brat at all. He was a boy with silver eyes and a smile far too broad, a boy who had made her feel strangely normal for the first time in what might have been her entire life. He didn't tread with the same care Lilith and Rivo tiptoed around her with, didn't look at her like she might crack at any moment. He'd even told her, in bright earnest, that she wasn't a monster. She'd done a great job at proving him wrong.

The Heart twitched between her hands. She snatched it towards her, biting down on a hiss as more heat shivered out from it in waves. And this was the reason. This was what she'd severed her trust with Micah for, the so-called solution that had driven her back into the pit of serpents following his stupid plan. The legendary Heart of Asariel. The same angelic magic Khalida had always craved.

Healing magic. And yet Corinne's blood still boiled, sewed together by scratching threads.

Her fingers curled inward. They were shaking again. The urge to throw the Heart as far away as possible tumbled through her in a harsh current she could barely hold back. Instead, she dropped it to rest on her lap and reached for the knife in her sleeve, leaving no time for hesitation before she pressed its point into the side of her thumb, ignoring the sting of pain as blood beaded from the cut. She wiped the blade and returned it to its place, then held out her hand, letting it hover an inch above the Heart's surface. Its warmth prickled over her skin and deepened the wound's sting.

Tensed, hardly daring to move, she waited.

A chill swept through the air, edging a damp breeze. A raindrop followed it, hitting the Heart's surface. Blood dripped from her thumb to mingle with it. Together, they wound a path of diluted crimson, tainting the gold shine.

As more rain fell and a second gust toyed with the edges of her coat, the wound remained unsealed.

Teeth pressed together, Corinne thrust it closer, striping a line of silver in red as she smeared her thumb over it. She kept it held there for a collection of seconds, then lifted it, a dark chuckle gathering in her throat.

The cut remained. Her laugh released, already fracturing in two. The magic didn't work.

Perhaps she should have ripped out Micah's heart. It might have proved more use to her than this lump of sparkling metal.

The instinct splintered through her before she could paper over it. She snapped to her feet, slamming her heel down on the Heart. She kicked once, then again, harder, drawing satisfaction from the narrow crack that opened up, splitting right across one of the veins. Magic. It had always been magic. Every whispered tale, every dream, every gleam of joy. It took over everything.

Magic was Khalida's obsession, and it served Corinne right for letting herself chase it.

"Do it, Corinne." Her silky voice wound in taut strings around the pounding in Corinne's head. It laced with the image of the man curled up on the floor, trembling, tattered clothes crusted with blood. A pistol dug into her hand.

Khalida was already turning away. Her fingers brushed over Corinne's shoulder, gentle, before ending with a dismissive flick. "Put him out of his misery."

Corinne's next kick reverberated with the echo of a gunshot. The chains returned, pinning the sole of her boot to Asariel's Heart to prevent her lifting it again. Thin fissures leaked out on either side. She'd broken it.

Magic was surprisingly fragile, it seemed. Maybe Khalida had managed to kill it the way she destroyed so much else.

Or maybe I need to stop blaming her for my own actions.

In the corner of Corinne's eye, something moved. Instantly, she jolted straight, her hand snapping to her rifle. Rain pattered on the roof tiles, blurring her senses. Her heart thumped in her ears. Breath held, she stepped over the Heart, scanning the peaks either side of her. Perfect as this spot was for hiding, it was also unnervingly blind.

The seconds ticked by. She readied her gun, finger bouncing lightly on the edge of the trigger.

An ambush might be a blessing. It would give an outlet to the bitter energy still thrumming through her muscles.

As long as it wasn't Micah.

Boots slapped against the tiles behind. She spun, damp strands of hair sticking to her cheeks. Everything took too long. Steadying herself, aiming the rifle, stumbling over that familiar breath of hesitation. The thought of Micah lengthened it. She couldn't risk hurting him again.

But this form wasn't Micah. Her trigger snapped back too late.

The shot split nothing but air, wrenched abruptly aside as a hand grabbed her wrist. She jerked back, then froze, suddenly finding herself panting for air. That touch injected icy fire into her veins. The face that accompanied it was a frosted knife to her heart.

Such a twisted smile belonged only to Khalida Rajan.

A hiss grated between Corinne's teeth. Burning threads digging in beneath her skin, she pulled back harder, accompanying the motion with a sharp kick that Khalida's legs danced to avoid. Amusement flickered in her dark eyes. Instead of loosening, her grip on Corinne's wrist bent sharply left. The rifle slipped from her fingers with shameful ease. Panic speared through her, brash and loud in her ears. Her next yank slid her free, allowing her to stumble backward a step, but the damage had been done.

Her fist closed over empty air at her side. She'd given Micah her spare pistol. She cursed herself for not retrieving it from beside Kasper's body.

Her skin crawled as Khalida's fingers grazed over her rifle's barrel, settling neatly into position as she flicked it around. "You're too reliant on bullets, Corinne." Her voice was something of a purr, soft and coaxing, like this was merely another lesson. "I didn't give you this so you could allow your other skills to rust."

Cool metal pressed into Corinne's wrist. It was all the assurance she needed. Grasping the knife's handle, she pounced, darting around the path of the rifle as she leapt from one side of the roof to the other and skidded over the wet tiles. Khalida's long sleeve bunched in her grip as she yanked it downwards, shoving all her strength into it when she met resistance. The knife she thrust upwards at Khalida's throat.

Her hand quivered, refusing to remain steady. A thin line of blood striped the blade's edge. Her heart must've risen to her throat, beating just behind her clenched teeth.

Khalida chuckled gently. "I only want to talk, Corinne."

"Too bad." The knife inched further forward, the blood darkening. This was blood she'd wanted to spill for a long time. "I don't like talking."

A sigh drifted down the edges of Khalida's smile. Her eyes hardened. A warning Corinne caught in time to flinch back from, but not to avoid its intent.

Her ears popped from the force of the bang. They were still ringing when the pain registered. It seared through her flesh, red-hot agony setting her leg ablaze. She couldn't hold in her gasp, the strained cry edging it, her grip tightening so hard on the knife she feared its handle would snap. She'd been taught to deal with pain better than this. And yet it invaded her senses, a haze that blinded her to everything but Khalida's watchful expression. The twitch of disappointment tugging at her lips.

She shoved at Corinne's chest, and she staggered, battling to remain upright. It was a fight she couldn't win. All she could manage was a feeble slash that tore through nothing but dark crimson clothing before she slipped on the rain-slicked surface and collapsed backwards. Another bout of fire lanced up her leg. Her fingers dug into the tiles behind, her knife still trapped in one hand.

Khalida tossed the rifle behind her, carefully placed so it was just out of reach. Taunting. She let out another long sigh, swinging into a step forward, drumming on her thigh as if she were almost bored. "Now can we talk?"

Corinne's usable leg curled towards her, recoiling like the rest of her longed to do. Instead she lay pinned there, helpless, hating every stupid mistake that had led her to this moment. She could've done better. This should've been the other way around. Instead she was here again, entirely at Khalida's mercy.

Propping herself up on one hand, she held out the knife, conscious of how obviously her hand shook. "I have nothing to say to you."

"Then I suppose I'll do the talking." Khalida moved another step forward, unfazed by the knife. Her eyes grazed over the rooftop surrounding them. "This was always a favourite haunt of yours, wasn't it? You liked to come here to hide." She hummed, a faint laugh woven into the sound. "You never were much of a people person."

"Get to the point," Corinne snapped.

"The point?" Her gaze flicked to the trembling knife as if there was some joke to be had. "Never one for patience, either. The point is I miss you, Corinne."

"Tragic." The thick paste of sarcasm coated Corinne's tongue, far easier to reach for when all else blurred. A growl built up in her throat. "You miss me so much you sent a teenage boy to kill me."

Khalida let out an amused snort. "Ah. Kasper." She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, one stained in dark scarlet that blended seamlessly with the dominant brown. "I apologise for that. You know how these boys can be. Besides." Her head cocked sideways. "I thought you'd appreciate a challenge."

Another game. Fury buzzed through Corinne's veins, aimless but potent nonetheless. And I played right into it. Perhaps she could've called it victory if she'd let Kasper shoot her. The only tool she had now was the glare she shot up at Khalida, the hatred shaping a thousand pointless, dormant arguments on her tongue.

"No?" Khalida shook her head, bowing it slightly. "A shame, really. You're rather out of practice."

"Shut up." They were the only words Corinne could find, emerging as a bitten hiss. "I'm not yours anymore. I never will be again. You might as well save yourself some time and kill me now."

All she received was a laugh. "Where's the fun in that?"

She knelt beside Corinne's injured leg, each movement careful and precise. Corinne jerked her knife. "I'm tired of your fun, Khalida."

Yet another sigh. Khalida grazed a finger down from Corinne's knee, ignoring her wince. "Khalida," she echoed, thoughtful. "I wonder, Corinne. When did you stop seeing me as your mother?"

Corinne stiffened. The answer withered on her tongue.

"I suppose every child must grow up." Lifting her head, Khalida looked back her way. To anyone else, the sadness dulling her eyes might have looked genuine, the star-like glint formed of care and not a twisted kind of entertainment. "But your name is Corinne Rajan. This is your future. It runs in your blood. I'd hate for you to throw it away so readily."

Demon bloods. Micah's voice broke abruptly through the static filling her ears. Her eyes narrowed. "I'm more than capable of choosing my own future."

Khalida's frown tilted down a twitch more. "Then I suppose we remain enemies." She rose, twirling so that the pleated end of her coat fanned out behind her. It drifted from side to side in lazy scarlet waves as she strode along the roof's flat centre, her boots clacking against the hard material. She could be silent if she wished -- after all, using the shadows as a cloak was her most favoured skill -- but she rarely chose to unless it served her. For herself, she valued the talent of the show far more.

Perhaps she and Micah would get along. They both enjoyed the taste of the dance. Even so, Corinne would have given a great deal in that moment to have her feet on the ground and Micah's hands in hers rather than this spiralling waltz of words and false emotion.

A soft tsk sound accented Khalida's final few steps as she paced around the Heart. She bent to run a nail along one of the cracks that split its shining surface. "You really need to learn to control your temper."

"It doesn't work," Corinne growled, unable to help it.

"Does it not?"

"No." The barbed edge of bitter delight grazed her tongue. "You were wrong. There's no faith to be had in magic."

"Come on, Corinne." Taking the Heart carefully in her hands, Khalida lifted it, her gaze roaming from one side to the other with frenzied glee. "Learn to have patience. Magic is a fickle thing. It doesn't always play by the same rules." The tip of her finger ran over a broken vein, a tiny drop of silver liquid seeping out to stain her skin. Her lips quirked. "Although I'd think you would know that, seeing the new company you've acquired. What's he like?"

Corinne's gaze flicked down, landing on the rifle discarded a mere couple of paces away. Dropping her knife back into her sleeve, she shifted. "Micah seems to know as little of magic as you or I," she said, slotting them in quickly before too long a silence drifted Khalida's attention to her. "He's useless to you."

"Maybe." Khalida hummed, nails tapping on the side of the Heart. "But I'd still love to meet him. From what I've heard, he's rather stunning."

"And rather stupid," she muttered, not entirely focused on the words. Her heel pushed up against the edge of a tile, her arm straining. Gritting her teeth, she flipped over onto her stomach, making a grab for her rifle.

Her fingers brushed over its handle before it was snatched out of reach, disappearing upwards. Dragging her gaze to follow it, she found the lookout girl standing over her, barrel easily jabbed at her head.

Corinne's lip curled back in a frustrated snarl. So this was all the good mercy got her.

"Nevertheless," Khalida continued, as if nothing had happened, "I'd value his input. It's not every day you get the chance to meet an angel."

"You will leave him alone." The words were hopelessly ill-advised, fuelled by fire even as cold dread sunk in her chest. Arguing would get her nowhere. If anything, she was only perfecting Khalida's game, providing more tools to add to her fun. But Corinne had to do something. Panic wound her lungs in tight coils, hardening into desperation. It was all well and good her laying down her life in protest, but she couldn't let anyone else be dragged into her battle. Least of all Micah.

She needed to get back to him. If the Heart was a lost cause, he was all she had left to protect.

Her knife slid between her fingers just as Khalida chuckled to herself. "Found someone to care about, have we?"

Corinne ignored her. Clutching the tiles, she swung the knife in a low arc, slicing a deep gash above the girl's ankle. She cried out, jerking out of reach. Corinne prepared to push herself up further, but then all thought abruptly cut off as a sharp pain thudded into the back of her head. She felt herself slip, her grip on the knife going limp as everything blurred, indecipherable. She caught sight of the girl's strike retracting, the butt of the rifle still pointed her way.

Fighting against the throb in her skull, she fumbled for a renewed grasp of her knife, but instead the girl's boot came down hard on her wrist, pinning it there. She didn't have the energy to do more than wince.

"Oh, this is where she got to."

The voice echoed as if spoken underwater, but she recognised its smooth edge, the easy way it blended with the drip of rain beside her ear. Dim anger balled in her chest.

"I was wondering," Raksey added, tone almost casual. Blinking, Corinne twisted, and made out his dark, red-splashed form as he leapt down from the roof's higher portion to sidle up to Khalida. He spun a knife between his fingers. "You'll never guess what I found."

Corinne's inhale rattled in her ears. The knife gleamed with fresh blood.

"I'm sure those are sparks of silver," he said, holding the blade up to the light. "Don't you think? Angel blood is remarkable."

Khalida's gaze rose only briefly from its fixation on the Heart. "I didn't ask you to spill his blood."

Heat speared through Corinne's veins. Stupidly, senselessly, she squirmed, kicking at the tiles. Her injured leg shifted, and a bolt of pain joined it. The girl pushed down harder on her wrist.

"Well, I was all ready to spill blood, wasn't I?" Raksey waved his knife in Corinne's direction, barely glancing over. "I thought I'd get to stab her."

"Micah is not a toy," Khalida said, her tone sharp enough to silence him while still carrying its fair share of irony. Corinne wished more than ever that her rifle was in her hands. Particularly as Khalida's eyes met hers, tinged by a softer stare, a slight smile curving her lips. "And neither is Corinne. Release her, Eliza."

The pressure on Corinne's wrist lifted, leaving a heavy ache in its wake. None of the pain vanished. It was folding in on her, trapping her here. All she could muster was a glare. "You won't hurt Micah."

Raksey laughed, brash and cocky. "I already have."

Corinne sucked in air between her teeth, venom burning her throat. Before she could say anything, however, Khalida stepped forward. "Perhaps you'd have more say in what happens to him if you stopped this foolish rebellion. You're my daughter, Corinne, after all. I wouldn't want you to lose someone you care about."

Recognition jolted through her, distinctly aware of the final note to Khalida's voice. She clawed at the roof, her knife like lead that pressed into her palm. But it was too late to do anything.

Still, she found some fragments of her voice regardless. "Go to hell."

Khalida laughed softly, thought creasing her forehead. "Aren't we already there?"

This time, the rifle came down far harder, swift and precise. Pain bloomed and faded within an instant. Darkness flooded Corinne's vision, and she fell.

⋄┈┈┈⋄⋄✧♡✧⋄⋄┈┈┈⋄

So. Corinne Rajan huh :catsip:

Despite forgetting how to write a fight scene, I enjoyed this chapter way too much. Corinne's head is full of angst. Also she has real anger issues but hey, cut her some slack.

This is also episode three hundred of Pup has an excessively extra villain!! I have an addiction. But Khalida is fun so why not :D

But mostly let's consider Corinne thinking about Micah's pretty eyes. Yeah. That's the most important thing.

- Pup