It was nearly impossible to move through the club, especially when trying to maneuver across the dance floor. The swarm of people moved and swayed in time with the intoxicating beat of the music, their skin like molten flesh as they rubbed against one another, beckoning to the primal hungers within. It were as if it were a different world, one where hidden attractions and guilty pleasures were morally accepted and exposed, thrown into the open to be fed upon and then left only to be obsessed over or forgotten once you stepped off the dance floor, leaving that world behind.

The temptation beckoned to the Sinner, called to her to join the erotic twisting of bodies that pressed and rubbed against her, begging her to release herself from her mortal form, to let free her most inner desires. Eve could taste the seduction on her breath, could feel the almost other-worldly pull of the dancers around her. But she steeled herself against the temptation and kept to her task at hand. She had to find this man.

And then she saw him. It was like the parting of the Red Sea; the mass of bodies splitting before her, revealing the dark featured man sitting alone at a table, drink in hand, and watching her. That moment made her freeze in place as she stood there, surrounded by the oblivious dancers, slate eyes locking with blue in a mutual stare. A moment passed before Eve found herself able to move, snapping herself out of that state of shock and forcing herself into a long, purposeful stride toward the man.

?What is this?? she asked, unfurling her hand to expose the crumpled napkin that had been clenched in her fist. She had taken a firm stance right in front of him, her other hand perching along her hip, that positioning meant to reveal her determination and impatience for his answer. Stay cool, Eve, she told herself, don?t let him see you nervous.

Blue eyes took their time to look down at the note, the act more so used as an excuse to trail lazily down the length of Eve?s body, taking in every angle and curve, the satisfied smirk partially hidden behind the rim of his glass as it was raised to his lips. Eve could see his eyes lingering on her as well as the curling edges of his mouth and she bristled, annoyance mingling with the sudden chill that rippled down her spine. Finally those eyes were brought back up to her face as the glass was taken from his lips, leaving that smirk to be fully exposed, brazen and bold. ?It?s a warning, Eve. Surely you can see that for yourself,? the man answered, his accent think and rich as her own and threateningly seductive, his voice barely raised against the almost deafening music and yet heard perfectly clear as if he were speaking right next to her ear.

There was another flash of irritation and anxiety as her eyes narrowed in response, fingers curling once again into a fist around the crinkled note as her teeth clenched in frustration. She decided right then and there that she didn?t like how he said her name, let alone how he knew it. ?Yes, I see that. But what does it mean? And what the bloody hell do you know about it??

?Oh, Eve,? he said on a sighed breath, his eyes watching her as he spoke, that smirk twitching even wider in satisfaction as he saw the involuntary shutter of repulsion flash through her eyes at the sound of her name on his lips. He did enjoy that look on her. He would have to remember that. ?I know much more than you can possibly believe.? He let that thought linger, raising his glass for another slow sip of fiery liquid, enjoying the burn as it slid down his throat. She was a tough one, her eyes the only leak in the strong structure she composed herself as and even that was a small one. She would be a hard one to crack, a genuine test of his skills, a true challenge. Oh, how he?ll love to make her squirm.

It was apparent that he wasn?t going to simply divulge information to her without being prodded and Eve hated that he was making her ask. It made her feel as if she were a curious child begging for the truth, left to believe whatever she was told. ?Well, you better start explaining yourself then,? she said as she stuffed the note into her back pocket, both arms coming to cross tightly against her torso in an attempt to make her seem hardened and bold.

?Or what?? the man asked, looking down at the glass in his hand as he swirled the liquid within, watching it coat the walls and kiss at the rim, threatening to spill over though somehow it was kept just at bay. ?You?ll send your gun-slinging boyfriend after me?? Another pause, letting the shock set in as she realized what he had said, questioning in her mind just how he knew about the gunslinger. His smirk pulled tighter. ?It wouldn?t be the worst of ideas, really, with the whole demon-hunter bit and all. In fact, I?m sure he?s starting to feel a bit of that familiar tickle, though mind you it?s only because I am letting him feel it and it won?t be enough to fully alarm him, maybe just give him a bit of an itch. Besides, if he did somehow figure it out and came for me? well, let?s just say that I don?t think that he would be feeling quite the same afterward, what with that curse and all.? His smirk cut wickedly with his last words as he continued to watch the swirling liquid, not needing to look up to know that the panic within her spiked at his hidden threat. Don?t you dare call for help, or he?ll suffer. He could have been bluffing, sure, but she wouldn?t risk the gunslinger just to find out and he knew it. Ah, what power uncertainty could have.

?Or maybe you?d send the gryphon after me instead, your original knight in shining armor. Tell me, Eve, do you still wonder what he thinks of you? If he cares how you are? Do you still wonder what his touch feels like, his hands, his lips, his mouth? How his body would feel pressing up against you-?

?Stop it,? she hissed through clenched teeth. She hadn?t noticed but she had started to dig her nails into her palms, leaving deep half-moon markings in the tender flesh. Blue eyes slashed upward, that fiendish grin slicing up at her viciously. Pure wickedness.

?Once a sinner, always a sinner. Or have you forgotten what had happened with Victor?? The man gave a pause, waiting for an answer, but when he only received silence along with a cutting glare he prodded on, jabbing at the most tender of open wounds without sympathy. ?Or would you rather talk about Kate??

?Leave Kate out of this,? Eve snapped, the anger flashing across her eyes as she glared at him, fists tightening and causing her nails to bite even harder into the tender flesh, the pain going completely unnoticed. He didn?t deserve to say her name, didn?t deserve to mar the memory of Kate. The image of her blared into Eve?s mind, the dark hair, the slate eyes, almost a true mirror to Eve herself. Many had thought that they were twins or even completely mistook them for one another. Tears suddenly threatened to pierce Eve?s eyes, barely fought back by the tight clenching of her jaw as she remembered that that alone was the reason that her younger sister had died.

But how did he know?

The man chuckled as he leaned back in his chair, setting the glass upon the table before folding his arms lazily across his torso, eyes taking another long sweep of Eve?s slender form before coming up to admire the fire in her eyes. Oh yes, he was going to grow fond of that look and he was going to enjoy every moment that he could bring that fire to life.

?Back to Victor then, to reminding you that the past will always come back to haunt you. You are still familiar with that story, aren?t you? Well, I?d be wary of repeating it if I were you.? Another pause, another moment to let the panic boil.

?How do know you know all of this? Why do you care?? Eve asked him, eyes narrowing, incredulous. She lifted her chin, defiant. ?And who the bloody hell are you?? Ever the spitfire.

At that the man rose, slowly, taking his time to reach his full height of over seven feet. Eve was forced to look up at him, something that made her feel unbelievably small and vulnerable, the latter of which she particularly despised. He was close to her, too close, but she didn?t move. Whether it was a voluntary choice on her part or something else that kept her there, she couldn?t tell, but regardless she remained standing in front of him, arms folded beneath her chest, grey fire locked with blue ice. He looked down at her, that smirk ever-present and cutting sharp across his lips. He was, undeniably, very handsome, and Eve hated him for it. Something so obviously wicked, so cruel, so? unknown shouldn?t look like he did.

?I am a Watcher, Eve. I walk between three worlds and answer to none. Yet only one holds the things that I desire most of all.? The man raised a hand then, the tips of his fingers coming to touch at her cheek which was flushed with the heat of her anger. Eve tried to flinch away but she found that she couldn't. She was frozen, unable to move from that ice cold touch as it trailed down her soft skin, following the angle of her jaw before slipping down, fingers taking a gentle yet firm hold around her throat, his thumb resting just along the throb of her pulse. She found that she couldn?t even swallow, all she could do was look up at him with that stone colored gaze.

The man bent down toward her, lowering his face close to her own. She could feel his breath upon her, the strangest mixture of hot and cold that she had ever experienced. She couldn?t even tear her eyes away from the shadows as they played over his features, it were as if she were completely entranced, unwilling as it was. ?I hold the power to show you things that have passed and things that can come to be. I can show you things that you can?t even imagine.?

His thumb gave a single stroke down the curvature of her tender throat, following the trail of her pulse. Eve felt the sudden desire to collapsed then and there, her knees begging to be allowed to buckle, to swoon beneath his touch. But that moment was a fleeting one and Eve was quick to snap herself back to attention, turning rigid and cold beneath his grasp.

That vicious sneer spread wide, revealing the whiteness of perfect teeth behind those curling lips as she went hard beneath his touch. She was beautiful then with the expression of a woman bent on victory, refusing to give in to any who tried to overcome her, her eyes full of demand for any to challenge her strength and determination. This was the true Eve; hard, bold, confident, and full of conviction.

If only she knew what she was going to war against.

For just a moment his grip tightened, clasping fast around her slender throat and choking off her access to air. He relished in the instinctual burst of panic that flashed across her face, reveled in the sense that he was the one in power, the one who had control. He savored the feeling of heat that washed over his body, the excitement that took immediate hold. But just for a moment.

He let her go, his hand falling to his side as he moved past her, letting his hand brush along the bare skin of her arm, ice against fire. His head turned to the side, speaking soft and low, eerily intimate even as he moved away from her. ?I would be very wary of where you go alone if I were you. You never know what the shadows hold or what eyes may be watching from where you can?t see.? Another show of that knowing grin before he moved off, letting himself become swallowed up by the ever-hungry swarm of patrons and leaving Eve to stand there alone, stunned and confused, feeling as lost as the day her namesake was expelled from Eden.

Eve stumbled away from the alley, hands coming up too late as the strength of the punch took her to the ground. Tender cheek met gravel and glass as she fell, scraping hard against the jagged landing she found there, the taste of blood exploding on her tongue.

She was stunned, the shock of the strike alone enough to cause her brain to cease thinking. Add on the fact that her head had been given a solid greeting from the ground and it wasn?t surprising that she simply lay there for a moment on her side, eyes closed as her body caught up in reaction, letting out a quiet groan.

That didn?t gain any sympathy from the man... or creature... or thing. Whichever definition fit most.
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?So this is the one the Messenger is after; the one the Watcher wants?? The humanoid figure hissed as he moved closer to her from out of the shadows, his voice rotten and guttural, the sound of which sent Eve?s stomach turning in involuntary revolt and bile burned at the back of her throat. He moved to stand over her, reaching down so that fingers could delve into that dark hair and take a brutal hold, lifting her up toward him with a vicious jerk. ?This is the one they have been calling the Sinner?? He sneered, bringing his face down close to hers.
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Eve looked up at him through squinting eyes, searching for the definition of facial features, the result landing her with another sickening roll of her stomach. He had been a man, once, but it looked as though he had been slashed to bits with a razor blade, then left broken and rotting at the bottom of a lake for days so that the fish could eat his pallid, decaying flesh. He had no eyes but still there was some form of life there, evil as it appeared, looking as if dark red embers burned deep within the black, hollow sockets.

The creature?s mouth formed into an unnatural smile, revealing the festering broken remains of teeth behind a lipless sneer. His head canted in what Eve assumed was an action to look down at her sprawled out beneath him. ?Shall we see if the name suits you?? He said with that sickening grin.

It took Eve but a second to fire off a shot into his gut.

The man reeled backward as the bullet bit into decomposing flesh, filling the immediate vicinity with a horrid, retching stench. Gun still clenched in hand, Eve turned onto her stomach, crawling and scrambling to get to her feet.

But before she could get even a foot away, Eve felt herself being grabbed by the legs. Her hands grasped futilely at the broken ground, rewarded only with dirt and stones gathering beneath her nails and scraping the tips of her fingers as she was pulled hard, back toward the darkness of the alleyway.

What happened next she had thought only really happened in the movies.

Eve?s entire body was lifted with immense force from that solid grasp on her ankles and swung upward, aimed straight for the alley wall. This time her arms reacted in time, though not to much avail, crossing over her face as she was slammed into the brick wall, hard. Arms and torso took most of the brunt, though her face?bashed against protecting forearms, and she thought could hear the cracking of bone.
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The gun went flying from her hand as she was thrown back to the ground, knocking the wind out of her and leaving her breathless, her body writhing with the pain of physical injury and her lungs burning with the lack of air. She managed to turn onto her side, gasping and sputtering, feeling the warm trickle of blood run down over her chin. Every attempt at breathing felt like her chest was shattering; her face felt like a swollen, wet sponge.
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A foot connected under her jaw, slamming her teeth together and jolting back her head to send her sprawling into the puddles of filth on the alleyway floor, something hard biting into the small of her back. ?You?re going to regret doing that, Sinner.? He growled as he stepped over her, straddling her, looking down at her with those burning eyes. ?All any of them demanded was that you are to be alive. None of them said anything about not being broken.?

Eve forced herself to swallow despite the metallic taste that filled her mouth, shifting a hand to grope beneath her and coming to touch at that hard, cold object she found there. Eyes closed in silent thanks as she clenched it with all of her might.

As the creature stooped low, hand reaching out to grab at her hair again, Eve wrenched the pistol out from under her, both hands clasping it tight as she aimed right at one of those burning, wicked eyes.

The gun shot that sounded was deafening.

Over time, Eve had learned the same thing as the gunslinger; that things were rarely as simple as they seemed. It was that knowledge that kept her frozen in place even as the first gunshots sounded, ringing in her ears. Smoke eyes watched as the bullets ripped through rotting flesh, the rancid stench filling the air and bringing back the bile to mix with the taste of blood swimming in her mouth.

Two more gunshots, followed by two more. And then she heard the voice of the man who had found her, who had saved her. The man whom she had grown so enamored with that, even in the midst of beatings, pain, and death, her pulse still found itself pounding in her throat. It was the voice of the gunslinger.

Even after the last bullets seared through the air, Eve laid there covered in blood, guts, and gore, gun still leveled and aimed toward where the creature had finally slumped in a repulsive heap of shredded rot and flesh. Only when she heard Zane beckon her with that simple word did she react, one hand peeling away carefully from the grip of the pistol to reach up in search for his.

And his it found.

Her body screamed out in protest as Zane hoisted her up to her feet, but she gave the pain no voice. The gun was still trained on the mound that was the fallen creature, teeth gritting against the gut-wrenching smell as it began to permeate the expanse of the alley, burning in her nostrils and adding to the pain that had matured into a heavily aching numbness that was starting to stake claim over her face.

Only when the gunslinger touched her jaw and tilted her head this way and that did she let her eyes tear away from the creature, and even still that outstretched hand kept true, aiming that pistol of hers at the rancid creature as if the moment she let her arm fall it would rise up again and come at them with renewed fervor. But the instant Zane guided her back and around that corner her arm lowered, though her hand remained curled at the grip, holding it tight even as it dangled at her side.

At Zane?s words, Eve turned her head up toward him. And amongst scrapes, cuts, bruises, and more-than-likely broken bones and nose, that one-sided grin was seen to crack through the bloody mess that was playing make-up on her face. ?See, love. That?s what you get when you leave me all on my lonesome. I go and fall in with the wrong mates.? She tried to add a quiet laugh to punctuate the humor, but the sudden stabbing in her side reminded her that she was probably host to a broken rib or three.

She shifted against him again, letting him take on a bit more of her weight as they continued to walk. She swallowed with effort, the flow of blood in her mouth starting to ebb enough so that she didn?t feel like she needed to spit every five seconds, and the tip of her tongue touched to her lips to wet them before she spoke again, tinting them a fine color of red. ?I don?t know what that thing was. Just sort of.. came out of the alleyway and said hello with a fine punch to my face.? Another pause, another swallow, this time a rippling of fingers rolled down the length of the gun as knuckles turned white with the grip. ?Though I?m thinking that maybe Malachi had something to do with it.?

The name was like poison on the tongue, and was spat out as such.