Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Flashfiction - Chains and Shackles

400 words featuring the characters from CheckMate


Boxes were piled up along the walls, testament to a full day’s worth of packing. Vincent’s townhouse wasn’t very big, and all things considered, he and Lilia didn’t have a lot of belongings, but it was still taking more time and effort than he would have expected to pack up for the move. At least, they were starting to see the end of the tunnel. All that was left was the small bedroom – little more than an oversized closet, really – that had served as Vincent’s office.

His weapons were in there: a generous supply of stakes, a couple of crossbows, a taser he rarely ever used, and a sword. Lilia packed these without commenting while Vincent sorted through his paperwork and trashed what he didn’t need anymore.

They had been working for a few minutes when the clanking of metal drew Vincent’s gaze to Lilia. She was turning shackles and chains in her hands, her mouth set on a weird little grin as she watched the polished metal. The grin became almost as sharp as her fangs when she looked up at Vincent.

“I was wondering where you had hidden these.

Vincent shrugged and kept his expression as neutral as he could manage. Sometimes, Lilia was hard to read, and she could go from laughter to anger in the blink of an eye. He couldn’t begin to fathom what was going on in her head at that moment. She had worn these chains before, just hours after they had become Mates. She hadn’t been happy at the time; not happy at all. They had never talked about it but Lilia could hold a grudge with the best of them.

“There’s plenty of fun things to do with shackles,” Lilia said, her eyes now sparkling with gold flakes. “Do you want to try now or should we wait until we move to the house?”

Vincent laughed, both relieved and surprised. “Fun things?” he repeated. “What kind of fun things?”

Her teeth gleamed when her grin widened. Vincent thought he could even see her fangs. “If you need to ask,” she said in that low, almost purring voice that never failed to send shivers down Vincent’s spine, “maybe I should enlighten you now.”

Gathering the chains to hold them in one hand, she held the other one to Vincent, an eyebrow arched in invitation. Chuckling, he took her hand. Packing could wait.

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