The Long Con

Approaching the thief, Avorra continued to make twisting motions with her hand, bending the man's will to her own. As she brought him to his knees, she seductively walked ever so slowly towards him, until her hand was gripping his neck. His throat heated in her hand as her palm engulfed itself in a delicate flame, branding a mark of defiance underneath his chin. Releasing his throat, she delicately grabbed his cheek, imagining a tendril of her power seeping from her palm into his skull. The tendril would seep into his mind, latching onto it and forming a link to her power.

My darling, I do not want the gold. I do not even want your precious jewelries. I want you. The Shadow whispered with a sinister smile.

She released the thief from her grasp, making the strange motions with her fingers once again, raising him to his two feet. Without a second thought, she released her hold on his blood, allowing him to run free if he so desired. They were linked, however. She would hunt him down, her new thrall, and force him to serve like the servant he needed to be. First, though, she wanted to make a game out of this. She wanted to see how far he would go, the lengths he would take to get away from her, before she came crashing down on top of him and forced him to submit. The internal pleasure she felt from the mere thought of the act pleased her. Oh, yes, this was going to be such fun.

Run, little deary. Run as far as you can. I will always be there, watching, waiting. When the time is right, I will pounce. You will never escape me. When your punishment is due, I will find you, and you will be mine to do with as I please. The smile grew larger, her bleached white teeth showing like a rabid Mabari. Whatever would this little thief do now?