3. An Ally

Emmalyn felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up, and it wasn’t from the cold. There were eyes on her, she could feel it almost as if it were a touch crawling over her skin. She looked over her shoulder and saw them walk with her, near her… catching up with her. She was supposed to be safe here, in the city's sanctuary. But, at that moment, she felt anything but. A shot of terror moved through her, causing her to grip the packages in her arms tightly.

She didn’t see the man standing there, nor see the deep-seated hate in his eyes for the ones following her. All she knew was the fear that chilled her more than the winter wind. Emmalyn tried to run, but tripped on something hidden in the snow at her feet. She fell right in front of him, still clutching the packages. She saw his feet first, then her eyes slowly traveled until she reached his face.

When her eyes reached his face, his attention was not on her. He pinned those furious green orbs to the vampire that stood hesitantly in the middle of the market; unsure whether they should flee or take the risk of continuing the pursuit. In the face of the werewolf's primal fury, the pale figure decided the latter choice was best. He turned, black cloak flaring with the motion, then seemed to vanish. Farrel’s sharper vision could see the blur of motion that took the monster away from the square.

Letting out an irritated noise, he finally glanced down at the woman and studied her dark eyes. She was pretty, and he thought she smelled good, but it was hard to weed through the leftover stench of vampire. Neither piece of knowledge mattered to him. He crouched down, running a look over her as if he were making sure they did not damage her before he slid one arm under her shoulders. Getting a grip on her, he stood, lifting her up as if she were a simple doll, and set her and her packages upright. Her eyes stayed on him, even after he set her down and moved his arm away from her. He was much bigger than she was; everyone was much bigger than she was.

“Thank you,” she whispered, trying to peel her eyes away from him, but finding it difficult.

“Don’t go off alone. They saw what you did,” he breathed.

She finally looked away at the mention of what she did. She knew it had been foolish, but she couldn’t stand to see another in pain, not when she could help them.

“I… I don’t know what you mean…” she mumbled, trying to deny what he saw.

Emmalyn knew he wouldn’t believe her, anyway. She looked around, trying to discern if anyone else was watching her. She took a step away from him, her arms hugging her packages tightly to her chest.

“I… I have to go. Thank you again…” she said as she took another step away from him.

Every instinct she had inside her told her to run, to get away and hide while she could.

The man merely stood while she babbled to him. He heard her words, but they only drifted through; passing things he didn’t bother making sense of. He trained all his senses on her. His eyes darted to every slight movement she made. They watched her lips move, watched the way her eyes shifted over him and shot downwards when she first took a step back. His nostrils flared just once when he inhaled, reluctantly drawing enough air to piece apart everything but her scent.

Through the torrent of rot from the vampire, the unclean scent of the streets, other human bodies, foreign spices, fruits, and other goods, he found what was her. Soft, flowing like silk. A warm scent that was floral. But like no flora he had ever scented. That was good. It was unique. It would make her easy to find should he lose her.

She was stepping back again. He was not losing her this early. His hand shot out, almost too fast to see, and delicately plucked the packages out of the death grip she had on them.

“Stay,” he said patiently; as if he were speaking to a fidgeting pup. “I’ll guard you. Take you home.”

She stopped as soon as she heard the tone in his voice. She gasped softly as he took the packages from her as easily as from a child.

“I can’t stay… please.” She said as her features softened a bit, her eyes pleading with him. “I have done nothing wrong… I just want to go home.”

She looked around her again, seeing some pale forms growing bolder. They mostly stayed back in the crowds, trying to stay hidden among them, though it was in vain. She looked back at him and by the look in his eyes; her pleas had fallen on deaf ears.

He was going to take her home? No, she couldn’t let him. She didn’t want anyone knowing where she lived. It was the only place she felt safe. If they knew, they might come for her.

“That isn’t necessary.” She said, reaching out to take her packages back from him again as though she could.

Farrel didn’t need to look to know that the vampires in the area had doubled. Their stench was masking the girl’s lovely scent again. The foul word spread fast in this cage of a city. Still, they did not attack. With five wolves and the guards not far away, it would be suicide. He watched her, still patient and clearly unmoved by her quiet pleas.

When she reached for her packages, he caught her hand in his free one. A smile spread lightly over his lips despite his discomfort with so many enemies nearby and gently threaded his fingers between hers.

“It is. You cannot flee from them, girl. You either run and be hunted alone or stay with us so we can escort you to your door... to safety.”

She was shaking. Even though she tried to act as though she wasn’t frightened, she was. Her hands were proof of that. He was gentle with her, despite his size. It distracted her for a moment. She focused all of her attention on him, forgetting about the danger around her for the moment. Even in the crisp air, and though her senses weren’t as fine as his were, she could smell him. He was musky, like the woods, pleasantly. It was distracting, as was his touch on her skin. Though it was cold outside, she could feel the heat from his hands, even through her gloves.

“I… I can’t go home…” she said to him, letting it sink in how much danger she was in. She looked around and saw even more of them walking and stepping ever closer. Even with her self-appointed bodyguard, they may well think the risk was worth the gain. Perhaps they were simply going to overpower them to get to her.

“Let me go. You can’t risk everything for me,” she pleaded with him. She wouldn’t allow anyone to get hurt because of her.

She was right about one statement. She couldn’t go home. The marketplace was getting dangerous. So much so that even the frail humans could feel the tension in the air and they began drifting out of the square to flee indoors. The disturbance had alerted the guard. They filed down from their posts, moving to block the fixated vampires, shouting at them to remember the laws and disburse. It was all the distraction Farrel needed.

“I risk nothing,” he whispered to her.

His emerald eyes glowing with the excitement of the battle welling up. He would only be so lucky. Collecting supplies, the healer, and killing a few vampires while he was at it. He pulled her to him, letting her hand go, only to catch her around the waist and lift her slight frame up over the edge of the cart he was still guarding. Barely a second after he had set her down between several crates, he leaped in after her, landing in a crouch at her side.

“You’re coming with us. We’ll keep you safe.”