The arrow cut through the air, tearing through it like a blade through fabric and pierced the flesh of the whitelighter, pushing through the back of his calf and out the other side. Pain mingled with the force of the shot took him a few inches of the ground and tossed him onto the floor; he even skid a few steps before coming to a halt. The dark figure, who still found solace in the shadows of the moment, reached out his hand, put his thumb and index finger together and pulled his hand back, his fingers now holding onto a black arrow with a tip that gleamed with the poisons he laced it with. He fitted the arrow and took aim, his eyes settling back on the wounded creature who was actually trying to crawl away…trying. He angled his bow and fired. The bow followed its trajectory more than obediently and stuck itself into the whitelighter’s shoulder and again, the force of the shot displaced him and flipped him onto his back. He was not going anywhere…his poisons worked much too slow…and that was a good thing, bad for them of course. The slower it moved; the more damage it would do and the longer he’d get to play with the angel.

Lowering the bow that set him apart from the other pathetic darklighters he called comrades, he approached the creature that bravely fought to stay alive; keeping his trap shut. Such a brave boy. As his body left the shadows, what little light this evening provided illuminated him, allowing his prey to see the predator. His chaotic blond hair was the same as always: fairly long and untidy, his dark eyes grew darker still and rather serious and he had that smile on his face. If he had used a better expression such a smile could be seen as charming but the way he used it was characteristic of some psychopath. Seriously, The Joker ain’t got shit on him. His body was in good shape as always and that was evident in the way he wore his plain black tee shirt, those black fitted jeans finished off with a pair of basic black K Swiss. Over the years, he started to wear long black jackets less and less, yeah he loved them but he was feeling a change and he liked this current change. He held his bow firmly for a second then he loosened his grip before he released it completely and when it impacted with the concrete, it faded into nothing. With his hands free, his mind cleared and he sighed. One second…two…three…four…five….six. His eyes flicked opened and narrowed on the whitelighter who flinched. He certainly knew what was coming next; he’d be a fool if he didn’t.

He kneeled down beside the whitelighter and for the first time studied his face. This one was younger than most…probably died at sixteen, maybe seventeen, he wasn’t sure but it was somewhere in there vicinity. His face was round, still had that boyish look to it and yeah this kid was a looker. Bet those green eyes of his captivated quite a few girls back when he was alive. He continued to look over the dying whitelighter, his eyes moving down his body as the hair started to smell of blood as his laboured breathed got more and more painful. Such a beautiful sound…such and arousing smell. For a while he remained knelt by the kid’s side, their eyes locked. A while turned into half an hour and that progressed into an hour and as time passed, the whitelighter had moved from propping himself up to lying on the cold stone floor, clutching for his heart which was slowing with each beat.

“Why me?” The boy struggled out. “Why…did you do this t- to me?”

Zane smiled. He reached his hand out and ran it through the boy’s hair gently; then without warning, he grabbed a handful of it and yanked him up so that their noses were just an inch apart. His smile was gone now, replaced by a stare that sent a chill down the whitelighter’s spine. “Because I hate you.”[b] With that, he released the boy’s hair and allowed him to fall back to the floor. [b]“Hmmm…not even an Elder could heal you.” He got back onto his feet, dusted off his knees then turned and walked off. He emerged from the alley and made a right and walked like nothing in the world could trouble his spirit. Had he done something that would make him feel beyond the normal? Certainly not. So why should anything bother him? He stopped and looked across the street at someplace called The English House. He looked at his silver watch and noticed that it was only 5pm. Perfect time to grab something to eat and more excitingly, it meant he had more than enough time to squeeze in at least four more kills. Chances were they won’t be all whitelighters but that was his aim none the less.

He pushed open the door to the corner street place and entered the diner which bordered restaurant. Taking a seat, he ordered a plate of fries with ketchup poured into a separate saucer and a tall cold glass of Sprite with plenty of ice. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone then set it down on the table. He was expecting a call. Ten minutes later, the waitress returned with a plate of steaming fries and set it down before him with a fork, then she put the saucer of ketchup down at the side and the glass just above. He gave his thanks, returned the fork to the puzzled but smiling waitress and set his eyes on his food. Feeling suddenly times more famished than he had been just a second before, he took up a fry, dipped it into the ketchup dip and popped it into his mouth. He followed that up with three more, took a drink from his glass then sat back and gazed out the window. It really was a good afterno- His phone went off. He glanced at it for a moment then answered it regretfully…well…he regretted it up until he heard the news. His favourite little witch was out and getting busy with a demon…time for play. He hung up and looked regretfully at the setting before him. Ignoring the fries and ketchup, he drained the contents of his glass then walked right on out the door. Who was gonna stop him?

Anyway, he had plans now. He was going to take his time locating his favourite witch and go and have some fun with him. Oddly enough, he was a bit conflicted on what kind of fun he wanted to have with his witch…his witch? Hmmm. It was an interesting mystery why he behaved so differently around this witch…but that may not be such a good thing, for either of them. Still, he was on his way.