Roxie accepted the bottle, unscrewed the cap and sniffed its contents. It was odorless. Well that’s a help. She summoned her courage, closed her eyes, took a sip and swallowed. The liquid tasted mostly like water, slightly sweetened with the hint of a sports drink flavor. She licked her lips, enjoying the sweetness, then began downing the rest of the bottle with the zeal of a person who hadn’t a drop of liquid in days.
She managed to swallow half the contents before a loud crash from somewhere nearby startled them both. “What was that?” she whispered, the bottle still to her lips.
“I’m not sure,” Aerigo whispered back. “Go home and finish the bottle there. Make sure you drink all of it.” He picked up his belongings, then pulled out his dagger and faced Roxie. “I’ll find you in the morning. Just stay home and don’t wander off.” He headed towards the darkest part of the street.
“You don’t even know where I live!” Roxie said as loud as she dared.
Aerigo turned around and sent her a glare punctuated with smoldering red eyes.
Unable to disobey that signal, Roxie hastily capped the bottle and turned to leave, but a sly voice alarmed her and caused her to whirl around.
“Don’t leave just yet.” The man belonging to the voice stepped into the light of the street lamp and stopped in front of Aerigo, smiling at him. “Tell me, Aerigo, who’s your new girlfriend?”
Now would be a great time to start running home, as Roxie had been instructed. However, the tone of that man’s sly voice made her more curious than afraid. She looked to Aerigo for an answer. His muscular arms were corded with tension, eyes burning a molten red. Roxie kept quiet.
This second person looked like he had been swallowed by a shark and spit back out again—twice. A starchy material, covered in dirt and ripped in many places, was all that was left of his jeans and flannel shirt, and his reek stung Roxie’s nose from fifteen feet away. His short black hair was spiked forward, his dark eyes appeared sunken from fatigue, yet his gaze was charged with…what? Triumph? Whatever it was, Roxie didn’t like how this lean-muscled newcomer stared.
“None of your business, Daio,” Aerigo said, and raised his dagger slightly.
“Ah.” Daio was sneering now. “So she’s the one Baku has sent his mighty warrior to protect. Nexus will be most pleased to learn this.”
“What does Nexus want with the girl?”
“I don’t know,” Daio said irritably. “What does Baku want with the girl? She doesn’t seem particularly special. However, since you’re making a big deal, there’s got to be more to her than what I sensed.”
One moment Daio was standing feet away from Aerigo, and the next thing Roxie saw was Daio right in front of her, wearing his malicious grin. He grabbed the sleeve of her t-shirt and yanked on it, ripping the shirt to the other shoulder and down the side. Roxie threw a fist, but Daio swatted it away as if he were expecting it, and the parry stung as if a block of iron had struck her arm.
“Your eyes do glow!” Daio said happily. “You’re one of our kind.” He bent his knees and kicked one leg backward, catching Aerigo in the stomach.
“Rox, go home now!” Aerigo yelled in a tight voice as he clutched his stomach. Sucking in a breath, he lunged for Daio with his dagger, but only succeeded in driving him away from Roxie and into the street. Aerigo positioned himself in front of Roxie and faced the street.
Roxie started backing into an alley on shaky legs, and with her arms clamping her tattered shirt to her chest. She wanted to run, but feared putting her back to Daio, who had one arm stretched toward the middle of the street, as if he were reaching for something.
“Catch up with you later, kid.” Daio lost his grin, and looked at his hand. “Well that’s no fair.”
Aerigo took the tip of his dagger between his thumb and forefinger and, with a grunt, launched his weapon. Daio ducked out of its trajectory. The blade clanged against a brick building and hit the ground.
“I don’t know what kind of threat you think the girl could possibly pose,” Daio taunted, fists raised and smiling once again. “She has so little time to prepare.”
“She’s none of your concern.” Aerigo raised both fists as well.
“What a stupid thing to say,” Daio said, sounding bored. “But in all seriousness, she does have you for a teacher…”
Why is some creepy guy interested in me, and what am I supposed to be taught? Does this guy think I’m some sort of secret weapon? It seemed frighteningly plausible. Before Roxie could ponder the situation further, Daio was a couple of feet away from her again, but this time with one of Aerigo’s arms clamped around his neck. Daio grasped for his neck with both hands as Aerigo forced him into the street. Roxie stood there watching with the same morbid fascination of seeing a fight break out in a school hallway.
Both men struggled to push or trip the other off balance. Finally, Aerigo swiped one of Daio’s legs out with one of his own. As they teetered, Daio jerked his torso toward the ground, causing them both to corkscrew midair. Aerigo hit the ground on his back with a ground-vibrating thud. Daio started elbowing Aerigo in his ribs and Roxie winced. Aerigo freed an arm and punched Daio in the head so hard he slid off him and onto the pavement. The impact sounded like the dull crack of a ball hitting a bat. Aerigo popped to one knee, cocked a fist, then stopped. Daio lay unmoving, his arms spread like a scarecrow. Aerigo glanced at Roxie, then got to his feet, draped Daio over one shoulder and headed over to Roxie. Neither man bore any cuts or bruises.
“Did he hurt you?” Aerigo asked.
Considering the fact that the only part of her that had sustained any injuries was her shirt, Roxie said, “No. Is he dead?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Aerigo looked at her a moment, then said, “It’s a long, complicated answer. Stay there. I’ll be right back.” He solemnly walked past Roxie down the alley, and into darkness.
The death question seemed half fair, half harsh. Daio was a threat, yet he hadn’t tried to harm her on the first chance he had; he just ripped a perfectly good shirt. After that, he’d seemed ready to leave, but for some odd reason didn’t. What had he been planning to do to her if Aerigo hadn’t protected her? All possible answers made Roxie feel sick to her stomach.
Footsteps steadily approached. Roxie turned around. Aerigo paused before her, frowning, then retrieved his pack from the sidewalk. He returned to Roxie’s side, setting the pack on the ground as he unzipped it, and produced a white rolled-up shirt from the main pocket. He sniffed it quickly, then handed it to Roxie.
“Here.”
Roxie mumbled her thanks as she accepted the shirt, then sniffed it as well. “Pine trees.”
“I’ve been sleeping outside the last few days.”
Aerigo stood and rounded the corner of the building and out of sight. Roxie scanned the intersection, along with the dark alley behind her. Seeing no one, she shrugged out of her ruined shirt, and into the pine-fresh one. Sheesh, I’ve known him a whole five minutes and I’m already wearing his clothes. This better not be the start of a trend. Aerigo’s shirt was huge on her; it stopped just below her fingertips when she held her arms to her sides. Roxie was tall for a girl—five-nine—but the shirt was so long and baggy on her it reminded her of when she was small enough to use her grandma’s shirts as pajamas.