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Cicada Nights
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Paris watched Soren hand over the weapon.

Then he watched Jason make another threat. Jason was right, guns were supposed to come with bullets.

But he was also wrong, because being a threat was simply not part of the plan. Paris couldn't believe this was happening. There were a lot of things he did believe in like charity and a higher purpose and calling. Things like providence. Things like doing the right thing. Paris knew before he could even think it that Jason had crossed a line, had done the wrong thing, the way the tip of his blade was skinny against Soren's chest.

Paris acted, suddenly, with a loud wordless shout and a jump forward. His legs smoothly pumped as much as they needed to, two times to close the distance between himself and Jason as he lunged for the arm holding the blade. Adrenaline left little room for higher thought, but he earnestly prayed that Soren would escape, and that Paris would be running right after him. It would happen because it had to happen.
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The Land of Shadow · The Tar Pits
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