Violet Eyed Angel

Chapter One


Angel was lying at Riddick’s feet, unconscious. Riddick stared down at her through his blind fold, then knelt down and lifted her up into his arms. He pushed back a lock of golden hair to reveal a dark, swollen bruise at her temple, and the entire left side of her face was swelling rapidly and turning purple.

Fury, hot and boiling, bubbled up in the pit of his stomach. She was hurt, and he had not done the hurting himself. She stirred in his arms, moaning in pain. He could sense that no serious, fatal damage was done yet, but she had a serious concussion, and perhaps, cerebral hemorrhaging.

She whimpered in her oblivion, and he shushed her, putting a strangely gentle finger to her lips. They were wonderfully soft under the callused tip of his finger. He ran his fingers over the soft, luscious curves of her mouth, lost himself in tracing her perfect mouth for a moment, reveling in finally being able to touch that strange, feminine perfection. She was amazing, for someone so humane. She was so very beautiful.

He bent his head closer to hers, not even sure what he was going to do. His mouth, lips strangely soft compared to the rest of his body, touched hers ever so gently, careful not to wake her from her unconsciousness. Even in her state of unknown, she responded to the frightening, delicious fire in his kiss. He was kissing her. What the fuck was he doing, kissing the sister of Michael Johns, Mercenary Bounty Hunter out for his blood?!

But her lips were so very soft underneath his, and he wanted to know what kissing her would feel like before he escaped, wanted to know just how silky and soft her lips were, how sweet she tasted. So, Riddick kissed an unconscious Angel goodbye.

Then, he heard the noise close by.

oo8oo8oo8oo8oo

Michael Johns squeezed between some debris and out into an open area. Riddick was nowhere to be found, but he saw Angie lying unconscious on the floor.

Was she dead? Had Riddick killed her? Had he done anything else?

Thoughts of the deranged man hurting, killing, raping his sister all flooded his mind.

Then, all thoughts of his sister fled from his mind when a metallic rope wrapped around his throat. He grabbed at it, slipped his fingers between it and the flesh of his neck, wrestled with it. Unfurling his whip, he lashed at the evil man trying to choke the life out of him.

Riddick was having an easy time of keeping his balance while strangling Johns. But then the jailbird looked over at where he’d set Angel down.

She was gone.

She was fucking gone.

What the fuck?

Had someone- or something- taken her?

He couldn’t even smell her, but he smelled the coppery scent of her blood. She was injured, cut up in some way... she hadn’t been when he’d had her in his arms. When he’d kissed her so tenderly.

What the goddamn fuck? Where was she?

He felt his balance slip.

Shit!

He fell on Johns with bone crunching force, and found himself pinned between Johns’ unforgiving gun barrel and the all-too-solid floor. Johns’ fingers curved around the trigger, but suddenly a woman’s voice cried, “No!”

Suddenly, Riddick’s senses were flooded with the scent of blood and sweat and tears, desert sand, and angelic femininity.

“Angie-”

“She’s bleeding badly, you motherfucker, help her if you want to. If not, don’t blame me if she dies. I didn’t fuckin’ touch her.” Riddick sneered as Johns’ gaze shifted from him to his sister, who had collapsed in a bleeding, gasping heap, and then back to him. “She’ll bleed dry if you wait too long, Johns. An artery’s been sliced.”

Johns knew the bastard wasn’t lying. Riddick could smell blood, and arterial blood had a slightly different scent to it than any other kind. His sister was in deep shit, and Riddick, damn him, knew that Johns wouldn’t let Angel die.

“Ah, fuck you!” Johns grabbed Riddick by the front of his shirt and hauled him to his feet. He tied him to a support beam before going for Angel.

He dragged her into the light, laying her down at his prisoner’s feet. Riddick saw the problem immediately. The bruise he’d seen earlier had swelled so badly it had split open, bleeding profusely. The artery supplying blood to her brain had been damaged.

Johns freaked.

“Oh! Oh, my God!”

“She’s still bleeding, pray all you fuckin’ want. Untie me.”

“Fuck you.” Johns looked around, frantic, to find a first aid kit.

“Untie me, and I’ll help her. I’ve been hurt like that before, and know how to keep on my feet, for sure fuckin’ alive. Let me help her.”

Johns was hesitant. He didn’t trust Riddick, but Riddick knew that Johns would hesitate from the debt of the convict saving his sister. If he ever thought of killing him, he’d hesitate, and when the time came to pull the trigger, he’d hesitate.

Besides, Riddick sorta wanted to do it. Angel was a decent sort, and Riddick had some honor left in him. You don’t let the decent die, and you never double-cross a partner. And she was beautiful, with soft lips.

He chuckled when Johns untied him.

He knew SBH anatomy, and knew that, on either side of an artery, were two pressure points that, when pressed, stopped the bleeding. He found those points on the side of her head, on each side of her temple, and pressed. The bleeding nearly stopped, slowing to a trickle before finally ceasing. The black-eyed man then pressed a strip of Johns’ shirt, ripped off during the tussle, to the large gash and bound it with a ragged strip from his pant leg. Knowing what he did about her race, he knew she’d be alright now.

“There ya go, Johns. Good as new, almost. Shit.”

He looked down at Angel, what Johns thought, almost hungrily, like he wanted to eat her or something. Like he wanted to kill her.

Riddick was actually looking at her tenderly, affectionately, somewhat glad she wasn’t dead, wasn’t going to die. He brushed back a lock of her baby fine blond hair, tucking it behind her ear.

Johns had had enough of that shit. He wasn’t going to let that monster touch his sister like that. He decided to distract the psychopath from his current thoughts.

“Carry her.” Johns ordered.

“Fuck you!”

“Carry her, you son of a bitch!” Riddick growled at Johns menacingly, and the other man backed up a step, suddenly terrified.

When he did, the convict lifted Angel into his arms. Johns sighed and quickly got lost. Riddick nuzzled her hair with his face, kissed her forehead. After breathing in her sweet smell, carrying it with him for a moment as he held his breath, he exhaled, kissed her soft mouth one more time, and carried her outside.

oo8oo8oo8oo8oo

She was lying next to Riddick, who was chained to a post, when she awoke. Her eyes, deep violet with grogginess, blinked rapidly to clear the blurry- ness from her eyes, then opened wide. She glanced up at the familiar form of the convict, who smiled at her.

Anyone else would have found the smile chilling. Not Angel.

She smiled back weakly, then winced. She put a hand to her head. As a semi-beastial human, she had a very fast recovery rate. The gash that had been there had healed already, leaving a thin scar and some light bruising. But her head still hurt like fucking hell, Riddick knew. He smiled at her in sympathy, murmuring, “Kinda like having a hangover.”

“You would know.” She croaked.

“You hit your head. Are you able to stand?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t.”

“Why?”

He didn’t answer, but stood up slowly. Dislocating his shoulders once, he lifted them high over his head, brought the chain through a gap in the support post, and, relocating his shoulders, brought his arms to rest in front of him. He fell to his knees in pain, and Angel tried to stand.

Failing miserably, she crawled to his side as he hit the floor, prostrate.

“Riddick?”

He was breathing harshly, trying to accept and then ignore the throbbing pain in both of his shoulders. Angel stroked his forehead, cooing softly in his ear. “Shhh, you’re okay. Come on, if you’re gonna leave, you gotta get your legs free.” She whispered.

He took a deep breath, hissed something. She didn’t catch it.

“What?”

“Cutting torch.”

“Gotcha.” She grabbed it, half-crawled to where his feet were chained to the floor, and stopped. She couldn’t do this. She was betraying her brother by helping Riddick escape. “Riddick, I-”

“I know, Angel. Give it here.” She handed to him, and he proceeded to cut through his bonds. He kicked off the ankle restraints, tossed the handcuffs. He gently massaged his wrists, and Angel saw they were bleeding, the skin rubbed raw by the metal. He pushed himself up off the floor, towering over the lithe, blond fighter.

Angel stared up at him with wide eyes.

Riddick was loose.

Angel tried to get to her feet.

“Angel, don’t. Don’t make me kill you.” She continued struggling. “Angel- girl, I’m warning you, I will kill anyone who gets in my way, and I’ll kill anyone who double-crosses me. We had a deal. Remember the fucking deal.”

She finally stood up, wobbling, and Riddick looked at her incredulously. Did she want him to kill her? She had once said she’d be honored to die by Riddick’s hand, but he’d thought she was kidding. Maybe not.

He didn’t want to kill her, though. He would if he had to, but he didn’t actually want to.

“Angel, don’t do that. Don’t try and stop me, don’t get in my way.”

She stumbled, dizzy, and fell into Riddick’s arms. She was so helpless, all he had to do was wrap his hands around her throat and squeeze. She wouldn’t be able to fight him. But he really, really didn’t want to hurt her, much less kill her. “Angel...”

“Give me... a hug, Rid. You always say how beautiful I am... hug me.”

She was right, he did often say how beautiful she was. It made Johns angry, but Angel had always merely smiled and said, “Oh, Riddick.”

She was beautiful, with her wild blond hair and flashing, violet eyes. She was beautiful, with her slender, lean body that held so much hidden strength. She was very beautiful. And she wanted him to hug her goodbye.

Hug her.

Lift up his arms and put them around her. Hold her small, fragile, shaking body close to his large, hard, muscular one.

Hug her. Hold her.

“If you fuck with me-” He began, trying to sound harsh and frightening. His voice merely sounded exasperated and lovingly annoyed.

“We had a deal, Riddick.”

Meaning, as long as he didn’t try to hurt her, she wouldn’t try to stop him.

Well, then, why not? He put his arms around her, held her close. His arms were hard and muscular around her small body, making her feel sheltered and safe, and she laid her head against his hot chest. She breathed him in, the scent of ice and smoke, fire and wet earth, blood and metal.

He was a contradiction, was Riddick. A gentle murderer, a violent lover, smelling of ice and fire and summer rains, blood and battle. He smelled so good, she thought, so very good and delicious and just down right sexy.

Riddick thought Angel was fairly sexy, too.

He put his nose close to her honey-blond hair, inhaled her sweet fragrance. He was going to miss her smell, he decided. She was the only woman he’d ever met that didn’t wear perfume of some kind. He liked that about her, he always had. He also liked how lean and supple she was, how slender, how he could trace the curves of her muscle, and feel how small yet incredibly strong she felt in his arms. He liked how her skin was so very soft, like silk, underneath his caressing hands. He liked how he could imagine, just with this small amount of physical contact, just how it could be if she ever offered herself to him, if he ever took her in his arms and let himself lose control.

He let her go.

She stepped back.

He looked down at her.

She looked up at him.

There were tears in her eyes, and one or two streaming down her cheeks. He didn’t like this, didn’t like how emotional this was getting. He smirked at her and blew her a kiss. She smiled her exasperated smile and said, “Oh, Riddick.”

He started to walk away.

Something in her heart clenched, and she suddenly found it hard to breathe, much less call out the warning she wanted to give. She gasped for breath, managed to calm her racing heart. She called after him, “Riddick, be careful! Something bad is here on this planet. Understand? It’s coming soon. Be careful.”

He stopped and turned to her, goggled eyes locking with her violet ones. He nodded to her to let her know he’d heard her, and he blew her another kiss. As he turned away and started to walk towards his freedom again, she closed her eyes, stopped her ears, and held her breath as long as she could.

When she exhaled, her eyes snapped open and she looked around.

Riddick was gone.

Michael was gonna kill her.

But all thoughts of Mike and Riddick left her mind as, exhausted from blood loss, she fell unconscious.

oo8oo8oo8oo

In the words of JunoMagic:

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