Surprise! I'm back with a new chapter and a dedication! I dedicate this chapter to my friend and romance writer 😉 @yanastevelork Thank you for all your support and comments on this story! They always light up my days like shooting stars (I know you like this nickname 😘🤩) Love you! 💕

'Can't take the fire

'Til you've fallen from grace

'Cause I need a man, a man who's got blood on his hands

And the truth on his face'

"I won!"

"I gotta bow. You're really an exceptional shooter." Blade literally bent his head forward, his sore-loser frown already turning into an impish smile.

"I won?!" My victory shout ended like a question as I was taking in my victory.

It wasn't that I'd doubted it – well, I may have doubted a few times when he'd distracted me so much and I'd missed the target – but it was too good, watching the final results and feeling the victory rushing in warm tingles through my veins, and if it wasn't clear enough, I could read them, as he'd written them down on a crumpled sheet of paper.

I had five points over him.

It was all about consistency, and I'd won fairly despite all his wicked distractions.

"It looks like you're not the best at everything you do... The Shooting star is better than you." I grinned widely before it fell into a serious expression, though my voice was still echoing all the tickles going through me. "And now, I want my prize."

He chuckled, his bowed head still watching my petite figure from above. "Okay, I gotta admit the Shooting star is really good at a lot of things..."

Why did I feel like we weren't talking about shooting anymore? Oh right, it was because of that mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"But I– hey, you still haven't given me a nickname." His eyebrows lowered momentarily in thoughts, yet it didn't dim the devious glint in his gaze, and I wondered if he was still trying to distract me. "We're close enough now, don't you think?"

He had a point, and I didn't have to search. I already had it since long. I'd just never said it out loud.

"You're my evil genie." I shrugged easily, but my shoulders stayed frozen up as I heard my words out loud. "I mean, an evil genie."

Maybe some nicknames were better locked in my spinning head, and if I couldn't take back my word, I still held my breath, watching in fear for the moment the magic would vanish.

Yet his gaze only turned more penetrating and mesmerizing as he tasted the words. "Your evil genie... I like it."

I liked it too, rolling out of that edged smile, and there was no doubt he was an evil genie because that same dimple that I'd cursed during the game was now making me nibble on my smile, and when he inch by inch leaned closer, I was drawn in.

If it hadn't been for his hand snaking to the back of my hair, I would have surely jumped on his lips. But he made it torturously slow, making sure to dive his piercing gaze in mine and arise all those delicious shivers, which, when our lips met, turned into burning sparks more exhilarating than any victory thrill.

Well, he was the evil genie making me a shooting star; that was the best way to describe it like last night, like all our kisses before. Yet now that the nicknames had been on both of our lips, now that we were close enough, there was another dimension to it.

Our lips were slower but more intent, creating tinglings more powerful or more evil. I guessed it was a mix of both as my tongue slipped in to swirl with his, and he started to lead me backward somewhere into the room until my lower back collided with was felt like a table.

From my memories of the last time I'd been here, scanning the place too carefully, it must have been a high table near the wall, and not the small stool, where we'd left our ammunition. Though I couldn't tell if something had changed since last time because I had been too distracted to pay attention to the surroundings, except for the fact that the air felt more suffocating today, and it wouldn't be now that I was melting that I would notice something around.

I only focused on the dizzying sensations and the bangs of my heart, louder than any gunshots as Blade's hands were roaming lower, doing whatever they wanted.

I pulled away from his lips upon that thought.

"Blaaade..." My protest got lost as he grasped my butt and hoisted me up on the table.

"Mhm... you know you sound hot when you're moaning my name." It was his husky voice that was ardent, traveling like a rush of crackling fire as he pulled my earlobe between his teeth.

When had he taken off my earmuffs? I had no idea, but he was clearly doing whatever he wanted with me, and he was distracting me from this fact.

However, I couldn't care less as I brought him closer, letting my legs follow his lead and wrap around his waist.

"Blade..." His name tumbled out of my lips before I crashed them on his again.

After all, I could see his secret place later, and the curiosity tickling my insides was for another kind of secret places as my lips grew bolder.

With the previous conquering rush still in my veins and my perched position, nothing seemed to stop my lips from trailing to the line of his jaw. I was guided by the sharp angles there, the prickles of his faint stubble under my already swollen lips, and lower, the smoothness of his skin. I savored all these contrasting sensations – yes, savored with my tongue, my lips, and my teeth.

It was only fair that I left him marks too, when I'd spent one hour this morning trying to cover his with make-up before giving up and suffocating in this turtleneck tank top all day.

As if sensing this stifling heat, his fingers were rucking my shirt up, arising goosebumps there at the same pace that my lips were reddening his skin.

He didn't have many inks on his neck, at least, not as many as on his arms, and I was determined to imprint new ones, exploring for the perfect spot until I found it. There was already a tattoo there, a slender snake with his fangs and his tongue right under the angle of his jaw, near his left ear, and my own teeth and tongue added some color to the design.

It was instinctive like everything when I was with him, and I hadn't expected it would once more be so thrilling. His breathing was growing heavier, and his hands flexed on my hips before resuming their teasing tickles everywhere.

It was bringing me a different and new kind of pleasure, and I still didn't know if it was power or evil rushing in my veins, but it felt like fusing magma.

"Mhm, baby..."

I had a second of hesitation where I froze all my movements, even my heart stopping and waiting for what I'd messed, until the vibrations of his groan rumbling through his chest reached mine, carrying the nickname with them.

'Baby', it was the second time he used it, and if 'shooting star' was propelling the sparks to my heart, this one was sending them somewhere lower. 

I knew exactly where they were heading now, where we were heading, and the anticipation was rising like a flame along a fuse with his parted lips hovering mine and his hands grazing my skin.

Yet despite his long fingers, he wasn't going past the area I'd exposed earlier, which meant that with his rapid brushes and his rugged touch, it was creating a maddening friction on the soft skin of my stomach, teasing me for more.

"Tell me what you wish, Shooting star."

He already knew it, as the bad intentions were shining through the dark waves of his eyes like a lighthouse drawing me closer. However, he pulled back before I could meet his lips, and the faint lift at their corner made it look like another challenge. He wanted me to say it, and he was winning, while I was losing my ragged breaths and my words.

My whole body was screaming it, yet it wasn't as easy to let it out.

"I... I..."

Everything was rushing and clashing inside as I focused on his blown-out pupils, but when one of his hands inched higher and the other lower, both playing with the hem of fabrics there, it was almost like he pulled the words out, or more exactly, he was destroying any barrier with his sparking touch.

"I want..."

"Blade!"

I wished to shoot whoever was interrupting us, stopping us so close from what I wanted – well, mostly stopping me because Blade was still leaning closer before another call echoed louder and closer.

Knowing the walls were made to muffle the gunshots, it meant the person was already in the room, and as this realization made me widen my eyes like a deer caught in the headlights, Blade's intense gaze didn't falter, staying on me for a meaningful second like to tell me – promise me – we weren't finished before he turned to whoever was there.

"Whom do I shoot?"

I couldn't decipher if his tone was playful or serious, as there was an edge of sarcasm and another of threat like a double-edged knife.

But I had other preoccupations when he pulled away from me and exposed my small figure from behind his tall one to the group of people – 3 guys, more exactly. I could see them now, and they could see me too. So I quickly covered my stomach and thighs, although I couldn't do the same with my swollen lips and flushed cheeks.

However, when I finally focused my large dazed eyes on them, I realized they weren't giving me more second glance than if I'd been a piece of furniture.

I didn't know if I should have been relieved or offended that they weren't even curious, and with my spinning head, it was too hard to think about what it meant. 

But maybe I could understand them as their gazes were glued to Blade, who was now standing by the stool where we'd left our guns.

"Er... Balliol."

"The new client is here."

It was surreal to hear those guys almost stuttering, those dangerous bad boys almost shriveling in their spot because from their black leather jackets, tattoos, and greased hair, it left no doubt who they were: dangerous bad boys from the East side, and probably from the same gang as Blade.

I was sure that if I'd crossed their path at any other moment, I would have changed of sidewalks or run away. Yet here, I almost pitied them – okay, maybe not 'pity' when because of them, I'd been left hanging with those burning sparks one word away from soaring high, but they definitely weren't inspiring me fear in front of Blade's dangerous aura.

They could puff their chests, lift up their collars, and tighten their fists, but they would never look as sharp, dark, and contrasting as him.

It was natural for him, and as he spoke up, flipping the gun in his hand, I found myself captivated.

"Let me guess, Rye brought it forward?" His tone was still the same, and it was surely this unique contrast between danger and smugness that was making him so imposing.

It was putting him in an attack position with no breach to retaliate for the one in front, and that way, he could make you do whatever he wanted. I was starting to know this side of him; it was the first I'd met, and I'd glimpsed it a few times since then already. Yet I now also knew there could be softer nuances in his voice and that smirk lifting a corner of his lips when the men nodded was not the most mischievous kind of smile he could display.

"When will this little daddy's boy understand that he isn't the boss?"

"You're not either," one of them pointed out, though I couldn't tell which one as I was too focused on the familiar Cheshire cat's grin that slowly appeared.

"Not yet."

My curiosity was tickling, and I instinctively leaned forward as if it could help me find out more about who was my evil genie.

"You know how to handle it. I can't right now, so do without me."

Was he ditching his 'business' meeting to stay with me? This was tingling another part than my curiosity, and it was starting to gather a lot of warm flutters inside.

"He wants to talk to the one who'll do the job. There's some changes apparently. It has to be done tonight before they can suspect anything."

Ever heard of curiosity killing the cat? Well, I wasn't the cat, but as the Cheshire grin fell down with his hand running roughly over his face, I guessed there was a deadly matter.

"Blade, if you're busy, I can come back another time?" I hadn't realized I'd slid down from my perch and walked to the middle of the room until I stopped in front of too many wide eyes.

The three boys were finally acknowledging me, and their eyes wouldn't have been larger if a piece of furniture had started to talk. Although I only caught a glimpse of their looks as I was already pulled away from their attention, and the next thing I saw were two blue eyes shadowed by a frown and the darker lighting of the hallway.

"You sure?"

"Yes, I understand if you have... work." I didn't try to find a more appropriate term. "It's getting late anyway, and I can't come back from my 'school project study' too late."

I had no idea about the time, but I didn't see the rays of sunlight illuminating the other end of the hallway, so I guessed we'd been here for longer than what it had felt.

Though it was still clear enough for me to catch sight of the bad intention on Blade's eyes as his arms caged me against the wall.

"Okay, but you better come back tomorrow to finish your homework."

All the little sparks rekindled in my insides with his promise. It did sound like a promise. He didn't make promises, yet I wanted to believe it, and it was surely the only thing that would allow me to walk away in the cold night.

"I'm a good student." I didn't fight the heat reaching my cheeks along with a smile as I held his gaze a little bit longer. "And I still didn't get my prize."

His eyes slowly glided down to my grin, lingering for an intense second, where I wasn't breathing, and just when I dared to picture whatever he was thinking through the sly glint, he shook his head like getting his thoughts straight, while mine were still spinning.

"Give me two minutes. I'll drive you home."

It definitely wasn't what I'd imagined.

"Oh no, you don't have to. I'm–"

"It's already late, and my 'work' can wait five minutes." His voice held no hint of the tone he'd previously used with his friends or colleagues, yet he was making me do whatever he wanted again as I nodded. Although I told myself it was because I remembered the promise I'd made to never go out alone at night.

"I'll wait for you outside."

I needed some fresh air to cool down all those warm tickles inside, and staying here wouldn't have been possible as they were already arising with curiosity again, watching him walk back inside the room and catching a few words that strayed to my ears.

It wasn't the 'keep him waiting', but more ambiguous words like 'without a trace' or 'professional' that could mean too many things from someone like Blade, from a killer. It turned the pricklings of curiosity into questions eating up my insides, and it was probably better if I didn't know.

Was it already making me an accomplice of a crime from what I'd heard? Was it something dangerous? The 'it was them or me' was still echoing somewhere in the back of my mind from that day he'd admitted he was a killer, and it was becoming too real.

Luckily, I was back into the entrance hall before I could overhear too much or turn back, and when I took in it was empty, with no Pete to distract me from the consuming questions, I immediately walked outside.

It was better and safer, that was what I kept repeating myself, and even though the air wasn't particularly chilly, I wouldn't hear more than I needed to know in the silence of faraway cars' engines and birds chirpings, which were soon joined by a nerve-wracking tick-tock as I pulled out my new fidget toy.

It muted the questions inside and soothed the restlessness in my fingers. It was really a perfect gift; it was even replacing the tickles of curiosity with warm flutters inside my chest.

The shooting star and the evil genie...

Why was he making it so easy to forget the reality of the world when he was around? Maybe it was freedom: forgetting the limitations and obligations of this world. I pondered absent-mindedly as I stopped by the familiar motorbike.

It was the only thing that had caught my attention in the surroundings, and my right hand was tracing the dashboard, while my left fingers were still playing with the wooden toy.

The thought of driving this motorcycle was already crossing my mind, and I was even starting to plan how to ask Blade. Maybe it should have been my prize next time I would win a shooting game.

Yes, I was probably escaping reality again, but it felt nice, making the two minutes pass faster as the rustling of steps on the gravel was nearing before my fingers could even graze the accelerator.

"Look... what do we have here? A little lost chick?" The dark voice made the question I'd already prepared on my lips collapse, along with my daydreams of freedom, and when I lifted my gaze, it wasn't a pair of crystalline eyes I was met with.

They were clear too, but it wasn't my evil genie.

"What's your name?"

I halted the twists of my precious toy, and I wasn't sure if it was because it stopped the magic of the wooden item or because of the step the man took closer, yet I became hyper-aware of the falling night.

It resembled a lot the other night I'd been there, the shadows taking over from the edge of the wood to the next streets, though today, they were passing through the guy's features, and the air was warmer. With my turtleneck top, it wasn't the cold arousing shivers on my skin.

His gaze was roaming down and taking in every inch of my appearance, and with my outfit for once not stained, I'd never felt so out of place, or at least, I'd never wished so much to be out of this place.

"Dorothea." I gripped the fidget toy in my hand to not let a waver slip through my voice, and I hoped that he would leave if I didn't keep conversation or eye contact.

Hoping, that was all I could do, and I could feel the powerlessness crawling back on my skin as the gravel crunched again.

"And what a little chick like you is doing here?"

'Little chick', why did people have to make me feel like a helpless prey these days? Why couldn't I be a wolf, a tiger, or even a fox?

Well, I may have acted like a prey as my gaze flickered to the side, counting how many steps were separating me from the creaking door, and searching for other possibilities than useless hoping.

Blade would arrive at any moment as the two minutes seemed gone since an eternity, and I could still run into his arms. Run into the arms of a killer... where had my life gone?

Yet Blade was making me feel safe, and things weren't always what they seemed. That was surely this last argument that didn't make me run like a prey.

I only took one step back as my eyes found the man in front of me again. He had a black leather jacket and tattoos, just like the four men I'd just seen inside. Maybe he was even from their gang.

So if a few minutes ago, I hadn't felt a hint of fear, I had no reason to right now, and I couldn't judge him only by his looks.

I suppressed the shiver running to my guts as I told myself that after all, Blade had been so much more than my first impression of him. Although Blade had captivated me from the start, while my gaze didn't go past the guy's ogling gaze and flat top hairstyle before returning to the door.

"I'm waiting for someone."

"Someone?"

I was still pondering if I should reply or run when he stepped closer again.

"Blade." It was much more impactful than anything else, and I could see the recognition hit his features and stop his steps.

He knew him, of course. Blade must have been well-known around.

"Blade?" The man's wide eyes lit up mischievously, yet it was nothing like Blade's bad intentions; it was ill-intentioned.

Whatever was going through his mind was sick and twisted, and I had no idea what it was as it felt like I hadn't caught an inside joke.

"Ah, Blade!" he repeated louder, and I didn't need to turn.

He was there. I could sense his eyes burn through all my nerve-endings – yes, 'burn' and not 'warm', but at least, it was effective to suppress any cold chill.

Blade had a gaze that got you pinned even from afar, even without staring back at him; that was how intense it was, and at this instant, I could feel each step he took closer.

Though when I looked at him, I realized his gaze wasn't fixed on me, and it was sharper than pinning; it was stabbing. He didn't even have to pull out his knife, and he looked more threatening than I'd ever seen him.

"So this little chick is the reason why we're not seeing you at the bar lately?"

It was the first time I saw someone not shriveling in front of Blade's deadly gaze, or at least, pretending not to because as Blade stopped beside me, just a step ahead, and his tall height hovered over the guy's brawny figure, something told me he was even more aware than me of what Blade was capable of.

"I thought you would be happy I'm not around, so you can play the little boss, Rye."

Rye, they definitely knew each other. It was the one he'd been talking about earlier, and although they looked around the same age and had surely the same lifestyle and 'work', they clearly weren't friends. I wouldn't have needed to overhear Blade's conversation to guess it, as the way they were facing each other and the tension sharpening the air made it obvious.

Though I wasn't sure what they were – work partners maybe? – as they were both wearing crooked and tense smiles, which looked a lot like the ones Diane and I were throwing at each other.

"By the way, you should go. Balliol is waiting, you wouldn't want to bug him..."

Blade was winning. I may have been biased, but his Cheshire cat's smile stretching slowly was sealing his victory, and even if Rye was trying to imitate it, his grin held nothing magical; it was just evil.

"Of course... Dorothea, it was a pleasure to meet you. I hope I'll see you around."

I nodded, although my insides were shaking 'no' as I crossed his gaze again.

"Hey! You could come at the bar," he suggested, his chin already lifting to Blade again. "Friday is weed night! You should show her around. What do you think?"

"I think you should go play the boss somewhere else." There was no more hint of playfulness in Blade's voice; it was just pure, dark threat.

"Okay, okay..." Rye put his hands up, yet he was quick to wave one in my direction, and as I caught the scabs on his knuckles, all I could think of was that it was the kind of hand that wouldn't hesitate to push me down if I was on the verge of an abyss.

It was a strange impression, but it deepened in my guts as he threw me one last glance.

"The invitation is open!"

"Bye..." I still replied, and it was mostly a polite reflex, which went unnoticed as the two men were doing a staring battle.

It wasn't hard to guess the winner... Blade was still glaring after Rye when he disappeared in the next street, and the only thing left of him was the unsettling impression in my insides.

Yet it was quickly pushed in the back as the sparks of curiosity were taking over again, and I turned to Blade.

"So the bar is your secret place?"

"No." He whirled around so fast that his frown didn't get to relax, and as soon as he took in my small figure, his eyebrows fell down, making me feel even smaller.

He'd never looked at me this way, not even when I'd been overflowing with tears, and I may not have been shivering, but it was as crippling inside when I averted my eyes down to the engraved wood in my hand.

"Oh, I thought because you said your secret place is where you smoke weed and–"

"You won't see my secret place, anyway."

"What?!" My head snapped up to him as fast as he'd just turned to me, though my frown was fully intended.

"I told you I don't make promises, princess."

"Are you kidding me?" My eyes hesitated between widening and narrowing, and they ended up in a constant blinking in front of his sudden change.

It wasn't only his behavior; it was also his crystalline gaze, which looked like a perfect mirroring surface with no sparkle or bad intention visible under, and his voice... He was using his sharp and smug tone.

"No, what did you think? We're not in your perfect little world here, and I'm no prince charming. There's nothing to see for girls like you."

Well, except if his goal was to make the shivers, sparks, and all the emotions I'd felt today fuse and erupt into something dangerously searing, he wasn't succeeding in making me do whatever he wanted, and when he turned to climb on his motorbike, it wasn't the tone of his voice that could change the meaning of his last words.

He wasn't only talking about his secret place, and I didn't try to understand why it felt like throwing fuel to the fire. My legs just propelled me forward until I stood in front of his handlebar.

"Good, because I thought I've made it clear that I'm not a princess."

Amusement, that was the tiny twinkle it sparked in his eyes. Well, my petite body leaning over his bike with my hands resting on the handlebars and barely reaching eye-level with his seated figure must have looked more funny than imposing. But at least, amusement was better than nothing, and better than pity.

"Do I need to refresh your memory? I won the shooting game, so I will get my prize. It doesn't matter if your secret place is a lost canyon in the desert, an old storage room, or a bar with weed nights where you go with your friends–"

"They're not my friends." He chuckled, and that raspy sound felt like a shock wave as it traveled through me.

It was all about this: his friends, or not-friends, Rye, more exactly, because he hadn't pushed me away in front of his other friends or whatever they were. His attitude had sharpened when Rye had arrived.

Was he scared of him? Scared for me? Both suppositions seemed impossible when looking at the unaffected smirk ghosting over his lips, yet both were stirring chaos inside, one reawakening the bad impression in my guts, and the other speeding up the banging in my chest.

"Whatever they are, I'm not scared."

Fear and helplessness weren't the same, right?

"You should because they're dangerous... as dangerous as I am." A shadow crossed his gaze for a second as if to prove his point, yet what was scary was the way it made me lean closer. Even if just an inch, I could feel my center of gravity tilting.

But it was gone before I could blink, drawing back like a wave off the shore.

"And believe me, there was nothing friendly about his invitation." Another chuckle...

"I know."

I knew. All of what he'd just said, I knew.

I'd known it just looking at his 'non-friend'. I'd known it yesterday when he'd made me experience things I'd never experienced. I'd known when he'd admitted he was a killer, and maybe I'd known since the first time I'd been here, in the same position, by his motorbike, and I'd accepted his extended hand.

Yet it hadn't stopped me then, and it wouldn't now. It was too late to turn back, and it didn't cross my mind.

"We also both know I'm a shooting star."

The burning meteor never stopped, at least not until it crashed.

"Let him believe he can fool me. Let him believe I'm a little fragile princess. But we both know what I can do with a gun in my hand, and I hope for him he never has to find out."

He nodded faintly, and his features relaxed enough to let glimpse his dimple. Yet he was still silent, and my heart was hammering stronger against my ribcage.

"It's you I want to see, no matter what dangerous world comes with it."

He still wasn't talking, and it made me even more aware of each word leaving my mouth in a quieter and quieter voice, and with my heart louder and louder, it was hard to find what arguments to say.

"I understand if you don't want to show me your secret places for the moment... or ever..."

I understood, but I was still gripping on to some hope, figuratively and literally as I tightened my hand around the wooden toy, and I traced the meteor engraved there with a shaky finger.

"But in the meantime... I wanted to show you one of my secret places. If you want... Saturday night?" I risked to peer up at his eyes, and I instantly caught the bad intention shining until his widening grin.

I could guess what was following.

"You know how to talk to men," he taunted, leaning closer above the handlebar, and although I still wasn't prepared for his devious allusions, I savored the warmth he created on my cheeks, and somewhere else.

"Saturday? Okay."

"Okay?" I tried to hold my squeal, though it probably showed through my flaming skin.

"Yes, okay for your secret place."

I hadn't expected it would make everything jump inside like this; yet after the rollercoaster of emotions I'd felt today, it was exhilarating.

I was surely getting my hopes too high, and it was dangerous. But I was a shooting star.

"Now, let's go! I can't be grounded for Saturday, and you promised me a ride."

We would pretend I knew how to talk to men, and I didn't realize the possible underlying meaning of my words just when I was seated behind him on the motorbike, and he turned to me above his shoulder to cast light on them with the sparkle of bad intention in his gaze.

Who's excited for this Saturday date? 😏 What do you think it will be?

Let me know in the comments! And also tell me your thoughts on Rye? It looks like there's another bad boy around, and Blade's non-friend/enemy... 👀😈

Also, do you like Blade's nickname: Dorothy's evil genie? It fits him, doesn't it? 😏✨😈

I hope you liked this chapter! If so, vote ⭐ and comment! 

I love you all, my little shooting stars and evil genies (if you prefer!) 🌠😈😘💕