Playing with the Enemy
I shifted my gaze from the kid to the blonde man with the ice-blue eyes.
“Why are you here?” I grumbled, facing him squarely, finally getting my initial rage under control. Pushing it down to where I could barely feel it.
A skill I had learned years after dealing with the sleek bastard I was facing. A man who looked like ice couldn’t melt in his mouth, but was, in reality, a demon in human form.
“Didn't you hear my father?” he droned, almost sweetly. I wanted to burst my own eardrums.
Bab Populer