The fury faded, if only slightly from Taurus as he still shook from the avalanche of adrenaline. “Rook has taken up the mantle left by Arbiter, I am sure that he will blindly try to enforce the letter of the law. He’s probably already taking the vigilante into custody to send him down to The Graveyard.” Demure desperately continued to convince the undisputed overlord of the underworld of her remaining worth. She wasn’t sure that her argument was being altogether successful.
Taurus allowed his anger to abate a little more as he enjoyed the elevated racing rate of his pulse that still thundered through him. His mind was already calculating the various elements to the petite politician’s claims. The sidekick turned Sheriff just might make his first act one of arresting the only real outlaw left. And with the other known criminals dead or behind bars, what need would there be for a gun slinging guardian? It definitely held merit, he had to admit.
“Alright,” Adrian breathed out the word with a harsh huff that punctuated his point. “But we will not again have such a conversation. Fail me once more and you will find yourself earning a deserved and deadly reward.” Crimson still colored his eyes as he grinned with a grim glee. “Go now, bring me this Gauntlet, so that I might provide him with a likewise punishment that he seems so fond of.”
Demure didn’t need to be told twice; on hearing the order to take her leave, she did so in a shameless sprint. There was work to be done, and she still couldn’t believe how she had just avoided the Red Bull’s rage. Even if it was narrowly – second chances were almost unheard of from Taurus. The fear that she only had been given the illusion of mercy didn’t help alleviate her worries either. She could only hope that shortly this drifter would be safely deposited beneath the dirt, and this whole bleak business would be behind them. Surely placing this Gauntlet down into The Graveyard would put an end to everything, right?
About the author:
Ever since he has been able to hold a pencil, Matthew C. Gill has been scribbling down stories. Burdened by an over-abundance of imagination and discovering a lack of fitting bedtime stories for his children he set himself to attempt to create his own. What he never could have expected was the interest of all four of his children as they eagerly awaited each new ‘episode’ every night. He now lives as a slave to their literary appetites.
Connect With Me Online:
Twitter – https://Twitter.com/SilverPenScribe
My Blog (For more stories and other random tidbits) – https://SilverPenScribe.Blogspot.com
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