FicWad

I silently opened the door and slipped inside, walking to the bed. Peter was asleep and I leaned over, kissing him gently on the lips.
He opened his eyes and smiled at me, before taking me in his arms and kissing me back.
“We have to leave,” I said, but made no move to get out of his arms.
He rolled over, so that I was beneath him and kissed me again, slower and deeper this time.
“I hope you wake me up like this every time,” he said softly, caressing my face.
A sudden shaft of pain went through my heart when I thought about the fact that soon he would be Circe’s and I stiffened in his arms.
“What’s the matter?” He asked, and pushed him, until he rolled away, then I sat up.
“Jericho told me that you’re destined to be an immortal,” I said softly, not looking at him.
“I’m taking you to an immortal named Circe, she’s the one that will turn you.”
He gently reached over and turned my chin, so that I looked into his eyes.
“You’re afraid that once I’m turned that I won’t want you?” He asked softly, running his thumb over my lips.
“You’ll be bonded with Circe,” I said softly. “It’s what called a true bond and every immortal has it with the one who turned them.”
“What if I don’t want to be an immortal?” He asked, leaning over to kiss me again and I gently pushed him away, getting out of the bed and standing up.
“It’s your destiny,” I said, “you’re the one who will stop the war. Think of the countless lives that will be saved. I can’t be so selfish to not let that happen.”
I turned and started to walk toward the door, “get ready,” I said, “we live within the hour.”
I could feel his eyes on me, but I didn’t turn, instead I walked through the door.
Jericho was waiting for me out in the hallway, a burlap sack in his hands.
“Here,” he said, “supplies for your journey.”
He dug into his pockets and handed me a set of keys, “take the jeep,”he said, “I’m sure they’ve got a tracer on your motorcycle.”
I smiled, taking the sack and the keys, turning slightly as Peter came out into the hallway.
“Thank you Jericho,” I said, “for everything.”
He smiled, and patted me on the back, “stay safe Chalise.” He said, then walked away.
Peter and I went outside, to where the jeep was, and I unlocked the door, sliding inside and throwing the sack on the backseat. Peter got into the passenger seat and I started the engine, pulling the jeep down the rutted driveway, onto the dirt road.

We drove in silence for the first couple of hours, then Peter looked at me.
“How did you become a merchant of death?” He asked and I looked at him, before looking back at the road.
“It’s not something I like to talk about,” I said, “it was a horrible experience.”
He started to speak when a high pitched whine filled the car. I looked out the window and my eyes widened in horror.
“Get down,” I screamed, just as a fiery blast hit the car. I struggled to keep control of the car, but it flipped over and I smashed my head against the steering wheel. When I came to my senses, Peter was dragging me away from the jeep, blood pouring down his face.
“We need to get out of here,” I said as I heard another blast. “We just stumbled into a battle.”
I managed to get to my feet and Peter grasped my hand as we began to run, dodging the hail of bullets and shrapnel that rained around us.
Finally, miraculously, we managed to leave the battle behind us, and we slowly limped toward a small stand of trees, hoping for some shelter.
Suddenly I saw a light in a distance, and I headed toward it as Peter limped behind.
“I hope their friendly,” I said to Peter, “you’ll have to do the talking, since they won’t see me.”
He nodded and we neared what appeared to be a small hovel. Suddenly the door opened and a small woman stepped outside, staring at us. I could tell she could see me as well as Peter and I wondered what she was, I knew she wasn’t immortal.
“Can you help us?” Peter asked, “we were traveling and ended up in the middle of a battle. Our car was destroyed, as well as all our supplies.”
The woman didn’t say anything for a moment, she just stared at Peter, then she smiled.
“I knew you would come,” she said softly, “my visions are coming true.”
She turned and began to walk into the house, then turned and looked back at us.
“I’m a seer,” she said in explanation, “and I realized that was why she could see me. A seer was the only type of humans that could see a merchant of death, besides a potential immortal.
We followed her into the house and she sat us at a table, giving us some stew simmering on the stove.
I realized how hungry I was, not having eaten in hours, and I quickly finished the stew.
“My name is Arella,” she said, “the war is getting worse, and now the humans are seeking out my kind to go against the immortals. Because I choose not to, I stay here, where the humans don’t go.”
She suddenly cocked her head, then got up and hurried toward the window, before looking at Peter and me.
“Those who pursue you are coming,” she said, “follow me, quickly.”
She led us down some stairs to a small room, crossing it, she pressed her hand on a wall and a door opened.
“This is a safe room,” she said, “it’s sound proof and fire proof. You’ll be safe in here.”
I went into the room, followed by Peter. Arella handed us a camp flashlight, then sealed the door.
Peter turned on the light, and I looked around the room, it was small but neat, with a cot and a table, with two chairs.
I sat down in one of the chairs and Peter followed, sitting down and putting the light in the middle of the table.
I looked up as we heard some thumps and I hoped Arella would be alright. She was taking a terrible chance helping us.
Finally I looked at Peter.
“You asked how I became a merchant of death,” I said quietly. “It happened three hundred years ago. My mother and I were caught in the middle of the war and I was killed, sliced apart by an overzealous human with blood lust.”
I closed my eyes, remembering the pain and the fear.
“Jericho found me,” I whispered, “as I lay dying in my own blood. The cold body of my mother not two feet next to me. He took me to Vincent, who took my life, but gave me a new one. One as a merchant of death.”
I looked at Peter, “I was nineteen,” I said quietly, “engaged to the only son of the man who owned the bank. I went to him soon after Vincent had made me a merchant of death, but he looked through me as if I didn’t exist. And I realized then, that I no longer mattered, not to the human world.”
Peter reached out, and gently caressed my face.
“You matter to me,” he said softly.
I began to respond, when the door suddenly began to open and Peter jumped up, as if to protect me.
Arella came into the room.
“They’ve gone,” she said, “come quickly. You need to leave now.”
I nodded and stood up, following Peter and Arella out of the room.
We went back upstairs and she handed us a sack full of food.
“Thank you,” I said.
“End this war,” she said, “that is all the thanks I need.”
She opened a back door for us, “follow the woods,” she said. “All those who are friends of the immortals have red stars on their houses. You’ll find safety and rest there when you need it.”
I nodded, and went out the door, followed by Peter. We began to walk away from the house, and soon Arella and the cabin had disappeared from sight.