The creature stood in front of the pit and gazed down with deadened eyes. Her features were passive, expression painted across Niall's unfamiliar face. Inwardly, however, there was naught but turmoil. Anxiety and fury licking at the corners of her mind and dancing across Niall's own synapses in their shared psyche. There was a scrape of a booted toe in the dirt at the edge of the staggering pit. A prison that had been crafted by a man who threatened to upset the Black Man in White standing at the apex of the slim mountain of affection she held. She unknowingly stood where Giuseppe had, weeks ago. She stooped and scooped up a handful of silt to toss it into the chasm before her. The sun was behind her, framing her in shadow as she peered down with mild distaste. The small pebbles and larger bits of dirt made soft clattering noises against the edge before vanishing. They continued, unseen, before they were too far to throw any hints of their progress up to her. How could this prison - what amounted to a piddling little hole in the ground - claim him? How dare it take him?
Her fingers rose, lifted to her lips and settled there. Remembering his mouth slanted against hers, two devils in the moonlight. Shared wine between them. And yet, he did not care for her, not really. She had asked. Made certain. And yet, she could not shake the softer emotions she felt for him. Perhaps it was their forgotten, shared past. Perhaps he reminded her of her life. She was as foolish as the whelp, caring for one who could never love her in return. She knew something that the girl did not, though. Love was as false as any other emotion. She could content herself with his fickle attention for now. He saw her and surely that was enough. A hand came to her side, gloved fingers clutching the hilt of the cursed blade that had been his. Gifted by another demon, long ago. Maybe she would not find anything. Maybe she would find him and she would kiss him until neither could breathe. Maybe she would kill him herself with his own blade. Lick the marrow from his bones and the blood from his lips. Her heart thudded against deafened ears, becoming a roar. She shuddered in ecstasy until all was still again. The blood lust contained, heart slow and heavy. Sated.
She rose and pulled the map that Berdini her sketched for her from within the confines of her pockets. Eyes, crafted from the abyss of hell, traced over the scrawled lines and there was a moment when she softened. He saw her and he wanted her attention. Saw her worth. Wasn't that superior to the vague attentions of Giuseppe? Sprawled fingers lingered where Berdini's had rested.
Fingers gathered abruptly into an unyielding fist and an index finger tapped lightly where the fabled striped predator was said to dwell. "Are you ready, Niall? Your trophy awaits you, girl. Just down there." The map was rerolled and tucked away again as she spoke.
She did not await an answer, just took hold of the rope tied tightly to a nearby tree and dove over the gaping maw of the pit. It would be a long drop and sudden stop, but for a moment, they were flying. Her low, throaty laughter followed them down.