Trailing her eyes down his frame. He did not have the usual supply of fetishes and bones that was supposed to be common for his kind, though she had never actually seen one of them before.
They were reputed to be covered in runes and skulls. But he wore only a robe.
It was black and made of some coarse material she thought might have been cotton, but she could not be sure.
His strength was what gave her the most pause. The Lich could not develop muscle or mass after death, and their bodies deteriorated after the change. So, what was it that kept him from becoming the gaunt, skeletal creature he was supposed to be? She did not know, but the curiosity ate away at her.
The thought had her swallowing the meat that was still in her mouth; she needed to focus, but her mind wanted to meander all over.
His attention dropped to her lips as she licked them and she smiled, amused that even a Lich could succumb to the same trap that every other member of his sex fell for.
He was thinking—just as she was, though if he was afraid of her, he made no show of it. She refused to show fear either, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of thinking he scared her.
He did scare her; she had no interest in involving herself with his kind.
Her thoughts turned to escape, and she traced over the path their fight had taken, drawing a map in her mind of the part of the city, slums or whatever they were called, just inside the city wall. Removing the parts in which they had doubled back as he attempted to flee, or she retreated for the next attack—and she had her escape route.
The only problem was, he was standing in it. She would need to go past him to get out, and that was not going to happen.
There was an alternative to going around him, and that was to sacrifice her kill to the Lich and flee while he was distracted.
She was no stupid woman; she was not going to fight him. She was missing an arm and in no state to fight.
With the heart still gripped protectively in her hand, she shifted her weight and stretched out her right leg slowly, so very slowly.
Setting her foot down, she moved her weight to that foot and away from the corpse, returning to her crouched position.
His white eyebrows lifted as his gaze took in her movements, his attention going from her to the corpse and back again, though she couldn't fathom what he was thinking.
It was obvious to her, though; an offering of meat in exchange for her freedom. It would have been obvious to most of the predators, but the Lich were a different kind of predator. They were not like her, feline and feral. They were more like vultures, circling and waiting for what was left, waiting for those like her to vacate the area before they moved in to scavenge parts for whatever depraved magic they devoted themselves to.
Would he accept the trade? He seemed to be considering it, and as she repeated the slow, careful retreat, he crept closer to the corpse, his eyes locked on her, wary and alert for any change that would indicate an attack.
Their dance was careful, deliberate and slow. Each manoeuvred the other around until they had traded places, him at the corpse and her near to the entrance of the alley.
He did not immediately go for the meat; instead, he felt around in his pockets for something, a knife or other tool for his need. She did not need a knife; she had sharp teeth and nails.
***
He made a move just as she was turning away, but it did not seem to be directed at her. Rather, he seemed to be throwing something into the alley. Something thin and gold flashed above her, and she looked up, wondering if it was a shooting star, but it was the oddest thing, a thin golden chain dancing in the air, moving towards the end of the alley where she crouched. She had never seen anything like it, and the shimmering gold kept her attention, fascinated her by its appearance, and then vanished as though it had never been.
Something cool touched her shoulders, and she immediately jerked away, the touch rolling up over her exposed skin as something pulled tight around her throat.
The lich was grinning, a hugely savage grin as he held something in his grip, and she followed a shimmering line of gold from him to her.
Lifting her hand to her throat, she touched her skin, and she felt the tiny gold chain that pressed into her flesh.
Panic flooded her system with adrenaline, and she yanked on the chain, but that only pulled it tighter against her, making it hard to breathe. She struggled with it, trying desperately to wedge her fingers in between the chain and her neck.
He approached her, winding the other end of the chain around his hand while she tried desperately to pull away, her body straining against the chain. It was like he had tethered her; the thin metal refused to break or even loosen at her touch, like it had been… enchanted.
The lich had tricked her, and she gasped for air, gripping the end of the chain and tugging at it to try to get it to break, bending and twisting it, but the links were more solid than any metal she had ever encountered in her life.
How could something so thin and delicate be so impossible to break?
Her lungs burned with the lack of air, her head spun, and her heart raced in her chest, desperate terror and that blinding urge to flee.
She had to escape, she needed to get back to them, but she was trapped. He had trapped her, and she could not breathe, rolling forward onto her knees and then onto her backside.
Vision darkening, she whined and clawed at her throat, but nothing she did earned her the freedom she craved.
It was not possible for such a simple, stupid little thing to trap her. She who had been escaping capture for so long, trapped by a lich? Her body tilted and she caught herself with her hand, her muscles trembling even as she dropped with an ominous thud.
He came to a slow stop above her as she lay on her side on the cobblestones, straining her neck to try to get even a whisper of air into her. But the chain had pulled too tight.
"Don't fight it," he said in a low, oddly scratchy sounding voice. "The more you fight, the more it's going to hurt."
She swiped at him; he only laughed and pulled the chain taut between them, the pressure pulling her upright.
She could feel herself fading, her mind struggling to keep up while the lack of oxygen dragged her down towards unconsciousness.
She felt weak, her muscles unresponsive, heard his low exhale of breath as he crouched down at her side, a cool arm sliding against her back as he supported the weight of her torso.
He gripped her jaw, turning her face so that she was looking at him, though she could barely make out any details now, the blackness had crept in until she could only see a tiny circular smear.
"You and I are going to have so much fun together," he breathed.
She expected his breath to be foul, rotten flesh and decaying teeth, but there was no odour at all, not on his breath or from his body.
The lich were supposed to smell like rotting corpses, were they not?
The thought was oddly disjointed as she clung with every last shred of willpower she had to consciousness. She barely felt his free arm slide up under her knees, her body slumping against his chest as he lifted her. She gave herself over to the darkness with a terrible, fleeting thought that she had been captured—by a lich.