FicWad

I drove for hours, finally arriving at the safe house I had set up, years ago. I got off the motorcycle and took off my helmet, shaking out my long dark hair.
I looked at Peter who still sat there, his helmet on and held out my hand.
“You’ll be safe here,” I said, “no one knows of this place.”
He nodded and took my hand, getting off the motorcycle, he removed his helmet and I stared at him, again struck on how young he looked.
I turned away and the thought that he hadn’t seen and done everything I had. I may not have looked much older then him, but I was, in so many ways.
I put the motorcycle in the tiny garage, then walked toward the house, followed by Peter.
“You can have the guest room,” I said opening the door and flipping on a light.
I took him down the hall and showed him the room.
“We’ll plan what to do tomorrow,” I said, “get some sleep.”
I left him standing there, and went to my room, closing the door.
***************************
I saw flashes of light, screams of terror filled my ears as I ran, a woman’s voice whispering my name. Then a pain worse then any pain I’ve ever experienced. I woke up, a scream caught in my throat and stared down at my shaky hands. Suddenly the door burst open and Peter came running in a vase in his hands. We stared at each other for a moment, then I closed my eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I said, “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
He set down the vase and walked over to the bed, “the way you screamed,” he said, “I thought someone was hurting you.”
I shook my head, “just a dream,” I said, “a nightmare really. I’ve had it for years, since...” I stopped and looked away.
“Since when?”Peter asked, sitting down on the bed next to me.
I looked at him, “since I died,” I said softly.
“You’re an immortal?” He asked and I shook my head.
“No,” I said, “I am not one of the chosen. I can still die again, I’m a death merchant. My name is Chalise.”
“Why could I see you?” He asked, “humans can’t see your kind.”
I shook my head, “I don’t know,” I said. Then I looked at him, “unless,” I said softly, “you’re one of the chosen. A human destined to become an immortal.”
Peter laughed, “me an immortal?” He said, “I’m not important enough for that.”
I shook my head, “someone wanted you dead.” I said, “badly enough to hire me to kill you. There must be some reason why.”
I looked at him, “the war between the humans and the immortals is getting worse,” I said. “Maybe you’re destined to stop it. And that’s why someone wanted you dead.”
I softly touched his face, “I think that’s why I wasn’t able to kill you. It wasn’t your time to die, you’re meant for bigger things then death.”
“What about you?” He whispered, “what are you meant for?”
He gently captured my hand and caressed it with his thumb.
“I don’t know,” I said, “maybe I’m meant to protect you.” I shivered slightly at his touch and he smiled.
“Then,” he said, leaning over, “perhaps we should stay close.”
He kissed me and I closed my eyes, relishing the feeling of his lips against mine.
He finally pulled away, “this is fate,” he said, “we were meant to meet.”
He leaned over and kissed me again.
I moaned, running my hands through his hair, as his lips gently ravished mine.
Suddenly I heard a noise, and I stiffened.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, and I pulled away from him. I got out of bed and quickly went to the window, peering out.
“Some one is out there,” I said, then the perimeter alarms went off.
“Shit,” I said, running toward the closet.
“Get down!” I screamed, as someone began shooting through the window and the glass shattered.
Peter dropped to the floor as I ran to the closet and threw open the door.
I grabbed a gun and a knife, then dropped to the floor, crawling next to Peter.
“Are you alright?” I asked, and he nodded, then looked at my shoulder.
I looked down and realized I had been hit, and what was worse it was with an acid bullet.
“Shit,” I swore again, and quickly ripped my shirt. I took the knife and stuck it in my skin, pulling out the bullet.
“Some of the bullet is dissolved,” I said, feeling the acid in the bullet start to go into my blood stream. “You need to run, now.”
“What about you?” Peter asked and I shook my head.
“You’re more important then me,” I said, “run, quickly.”
The gunfire suddenly stopped and I wasn’t sure if they were going to come inside, or torch the place, but I knew I had to get him out quickly.
“GO,” I said, and he carefully stood, before bending over and picking me up.
I tried to protest, but the acid was doing its job and I was losing consciousness.
“Hang on Chalise,” he said as he carried me toward the back of the house, then everything went dark.