As he limped through the streets towards his home, Kivas lit a cigarette and sighed heavily. White blood dripped from his abdomen and his arm was turned around at an odd angle. More milk soaked through his jeans, making the blue fade like cream below the rip in his thigh. His one good eye was swollen just about shut, forcing him to uncover the pale, scarred one and watch his path in pastel colored shadows. Along with the mess of lacerations, he had four broken fingers and most likely a cracked collarbone.
It might have been nice to have been given all the proper information for this job, but the assassin wasn’t exactly surprised nor too upset. Just tired.
There was a figure waiting in his doorway when he arrived. He tilted the corner of his split lip up in greeting before shoving passed the man.
“What do you want, zizna,” he muttered the ancient insult as he dropped himself on his black leather couch. The translation roughly came out to mean an ‘abnormal growth on a fetus’.
The white blood would soak in and stain the leather within minutes but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Sometimes he wished he could bleed like a human; it’s a lot easier to clean.
“That can’t be good for the furniture,” the intruder mused.
“I’m slightly more worried about the hole in my gut, but I appreciate the concern.”
Kivas let out a heavy breath. He was going to need to feed if he wanted these wounds to heal any time soon. Finally, he glanced up at the man in front of him.
Abdaziel was the product of an affair between a powerful angel and the master of souls, Lucifer. He had thick, curly red hair and deep blue eyes with too much knowledge for a man that appeared so deceptively young. He was also technically the vampire hybrid’s superior but that was only when they wanted to worry about technicalities.
“If you look like this, I’d hate to see the other guy,” Zade said around a chuckle.
Kivas cringed at the attempted humor.
“Well the other guy happened to be a demon. Not difficult to turn to ash, but fast little fuckers in the mean time.”
The explanation came from tired lips while he closed his eyes. Zade wasn’t here just to watch the man pass out, but he was amused seeing the mess he was in. He hesitated long enough for a chuckle to tumble into the room. Moments later, Kivas was pulled up to his feet roughly, shooting fire through his wounds, inducing a low groan.
“Come on, big guy,” Zade muttered, bringing the man towards the door. “I need you fed, healed and kicking ass again within the next two hours.”
Kivas felt himself smiling sardonically.
“Of course you do.”