Disclaimer
: I do not own the legal rights to Lara Raith. Lara Raith is a character that was created by Jim Butcher for his stories about a fictional private investigator/wizard named Harry Dresden. I am merely borrowing Lara for a short time to bring a little fan-fiction entertainment to your lives.
*****
I left Susan Asher's apartment building and walked about half a block, to where I had parked my car. I was feeling rather pleased with myself. I had made a believer out of Susan Asher, and a bold, extroverted woman like Susan would spread the word and make more believers.
My legend was growing, and Chicago was a large city with over two million people in residence. Such a densely populated city was rife with potential for recruiting mortals to worship me.
I was in such high spirits that I failed to notice the disturbance in the parking lot just a few yards away. At least I failed to notice it, until
after
the ear-splitting cries for help pierced the air, and drew my attention.
"Help,"
a woman's voice called out, "
Help please!!"
The woman had a set of lungs on her. I would have needed to be deaf to not hear her screams. I ventured into the direction of the sound of her voice to investigate what could cause such a clamor.
Even when I got closer, the woman with the powerful lungs was still obscured from my sight, however the cause of her panic was obvious.
Two very menacing females seemed intent on dragging the panicky woman out from underneath a parked vehicle. And the malicious expressions on these women's faces wasn't the most disturbing thing about them.
Both of the women were barefoot, and they were lacking in human feet. Their feet strongly resembled eagle's talons. A moment's observation revealed that they also had something very similar to eagle's talons where their hands should be.
They also had sharp, spikey-looking feathers growing out of their scalp instead of hair, and impressively huge wings growing out of their backs.
One of the women crouched low and held her hands/talons at the ready, eager to snatch her cornered victim if it attempted to bolt. The other birdlike antagonist smashed out all the vehicle's headlights, scratched deep gouges in the car's paintjob and tore off one of the rearview mirrors. She seemed to be intent on making as much noise as possible while she attacked the car.
I immediately recognized this as predator behavior. The one bird-lady made as much of a disturbing, strident clamor as possible, trying to induce panic in her prey. The other bird-lady was set to pounce on the prey the instant it panicked enough that it abandoned it's hiding place and tried to run.
Neither of the predatory females had noticed me yet, and there was a section of my brain that was urgently reminding me that I could leave at any time and the malicious women would never even know that I was there. I could go back to living my normal life without these creepy women molesting me in any way.
However, there was
another
section of my brain what was pointing out just as urgently that that woman underneath the car desperately needed my help.
During the centuries that I had passed myself off as human, I had worked very hard at steering clear of wars, revolutions, witch trials, pogroms, riots and avoiding conflict in general. I had gotten so experienced at it, that it was reflexive. I could do it very well, without expending any real effort.
Which is why I surprised myself greatly when I took three steps forward, and bellowed,
"Did somebody here call for my help?"
Both of the bird women turned to face me and gave me a malevolent look. The one closest to me pulled her lips back, revealing greyish gums and unnaturally sharp teeth. While they were doing this, the woman underneath the car pleaded for my assistance once again.
"Have a care foolish mortal," the one with the sharp teeth advised, "We are not currently concerned with you. It would be in your best interest if things remained that way."
I was outnumbered two to one, and I was unarmed. The practical thing to do would have been to take up the bird-woman on her offer, however my mouth seemed to be forming words without checking with my brain first.
"I'm no mortal," I replied, "I've been around for centuries. I was there at the Battle of Milvian Bridge. And I'm the guardian of this city. And you can't come into Chicago and start hunting my people like hunting rabbits in the brush. I am dauntless in the protection of my people."
I had no idea where those words came from. I had never considered myself the guardian of Chicago before. I had never before considered it my responsibility to protect the people of this city, and yet, after the words fell from my lips, I actually thought they sounded impressive and praiseworthy.
"This girl is
not
one of your people," said the bird-woman that had been vandalizing the car, "We tried to abduct her in Memphis, however
someone
warned her that we were coming, and she fled from us. If not for that warning, we would have captured her days ago, and she would never have set foot in your territory."
When the bird-woman said the word "
someone",
she said it with such vehemence that it sounded like a toxic profanity. I guessed that whoever warned their quarry that the bird-women were coming, they had probably died a very painful death by now.
The two predatory women glared at me as I faced them down. The woman hiding underneath the car may not have been a resident of Chicago, however, her feet had touched Chicago soil and she had called out for my help. I made up my mind that that was enough for me to claim her as one of my own. I was about to explain my decision to the two predatory bird-women when I felt an explosion of white-hot pain in my chest.
"Aaaaauughhhhhhh,"
I exclaimed in sudden, blinding agony.
I had never known excruciating pain like this before. It was a new and unwelcome sort of suffering. And when I opened my eyes and looked down, I saw the tip of a blood-soaked sword sticking out of my chest.
They stuck a sword in me!
I had lived through the fall of the Roman Empire, the ignorant violence of the Dark Ages, the Crusades, the Inquisition and dozens of European wars and in all those centuries,
not once
had anyone ever stabbed me with a sword.
I didn't care for it.
I had been stabbed from behind, thus I couldn't see the face of my attacker, however I assumed it was an ally of the predatory women in front of me. Seriously,
who else
would have had a motive for stabbing me?
"Excellent work, Pallas," said the bird-woman with the sharp teeth.
"She won't be bothering you anymore," said the voice of the woman who stabbed me, and then I felt the sword being yanked out of my ribcage.
Much to my shock, the sword hurt even worse coming out, than it did going in. I felt an explosion of agony run through my body and I very nearly lost consciousness.
I made an inarticulate sound and collapsed to my knees. The sudden and excruciating pain had overloaded my nervous system. For a few seconds it seemed that I couldn't move. I tried to say something defiant and resentful but ended up coughing up a disturbingly large amount of blood instead.
"Can the two of you capture one little girl?" the woman who had stabbed me inquired, "Or do you need my assistance for that as well?"
"Shut up, Pallas," said the one who was destroying the car, and then she sank her claws deep into the hood of the car and attempted to rip it from the car's frame. She was denting the hood and warping the shape of the metal but seemed to have trouble tearing it away from the car. The woman underneath the car heard metal being torn and crumpled and she screamed once again.
And while the bird-women traded sullen verbal barbs with each other, the pain of being stabbed rapidly faded. My body healed from the stab wound far more rapidly than I would have thought possible, and the pain ebbed until it had completely disappeared.
I realized that this was a benefit of being worshipped by humans once again. Their belief in me made me stronger and allowed me to heal from a massive stab wound in a matter of seconds. I felt like a goddess, once again. I felt invincible and unstoppable.
I got down on my hands and knees and swung my right leg around behind me. I put a lot of force behind that swing, but I swung blind. I was so intent on attacking before they realized I had recovered from being stabbed, that I didn't take the time to look behind me and aim my attack.
However, luck was with me that day, and I heard a loud
"crunch"
sound as my foot connected with something solid. Then there was an inarticulate scream of pain that made me smile.
I turned around and saw another bird-woman on the ground behind me. She had dropped her sword and her right leg was twisted at an odd angle, as if she had dislocated her knee.
As if
I
had dislocated her knee.