I've had ideas for stories running around in my head forever. But they never get written down in story form. So, here I am trying to do so. It needs more, I'm pretty sure. But I think I'm done for the night.
Eric climbed the last step and bent over, hands on his knees, as he tried to get his lungs back under control. Damn, this park had a lot of steps. The man had never been here, but a few friends had said the bridge was a pretty good spot. That memory had floating to the surface when it was needed, along with the fact that there was an entrance to the sewer.
He had been staying at a flop house for a week, chilling and enjoying not being behind bars. But then someone had said They were looking for him. What had he ever done to have Them on his tail? All he had done was skip his sentencing hearing. And it's not like he really took anyone's money. The store was probably insured.
He shook his head and started a jog across the moonlit grass towards another set of stone steps leading to his destination. He was only twenty five, but the jog across this huge park had him winded. How could one park have so many flights of stairs and hills? He could have sworn he had been this way already, but the bridge was in sight ahead of him.
They would have found him if he had stayed at a friends. Hell, from rumor they would find him anywhere. But this was a good spot. He could go anywhere from here without being seen. The first thing to do was find a way out of the city.
He sighed and took the stairs slowly, one hand gripping the rail. He hadn't used a weapon, so maybe They weren't really after him. Well, the law said using mental mojo was a big no no, but he just convinced the clerk to open up with a smile not violence. Couldn't be that bad, right?
Eric grinned a bit as the outline of the stone bridge solidified and he could make out the path down underneath. They weren't terrible, really, or the best hunters, but They were good. They got called in when some mojo worker or being ran amok. Eric never really considered himself a mojo worker, though, people just did what he wanted them to.
Rumor said they were half-vampire, half-goat, and half....thing that could make you piss yourself. But who knew one faerie from another? Maybe he could offer them a pair of shoes to work on and They'd go away. But rumor also said that They never went away.
The thief jumped down the ledge and into the shadows beneath the bridge. The water lapping against the banks made a soothing sound that was broken by the click of a lighter. Eric froze and stared as the flash of flame outlined a man leaning against the bridge lighting a cigarette. He gave a nervous chuckle at being afraid of a random bum. Granted, the man seemed to be dressed better than a bum in a vest and trousers.
The bum looked up at the clear night sky, smoke trailing from his nose. "Beautiful night, isn't it?" Eric glanced up and nodded, his request for a smoke dying in his throat. The man's blond hair captured what light there was and gave an impression of horns. The thief's heart gives a lurch as he took a step backwards and darted his eyes over the darkened dirt, looking for a way out.
"It's gorgeous," came a low female voice from right behind Eric. He quickly pivoted in the dirt and found a woman crouched on a large rock. Her elbows resting on her bent knees and one finger tugging dark glasses further down her nose. Straight black hair fell over one eye as she stared at Eric. "Too bad I'm out chasing criminals instead of enjoying it."
The thief finally got his wits about him and took a step closer to the woman, hands held out in supplication. "Listen, I'm sure we can-"
Her fist hit his jaw before the whole sentence could be finished. Jumping down from the rock, she leaned over to make sure Eric was unconscious.
"Ah now, Aine," the man sighed as he pushed off the wall. "Are we not going to hear him out?"
"I wasn't about to put up with his silver tongue, Cian," Aine rolled her eyes
at her brother. "Didn't you ever
get the message that silence is golden?"