The Lucifer's Muse

In the shadowy depths of a deserted alley, Ixora moved like a whisper - each step careful, her senses sharp. Just a few more paces and she'd be home. Gripping her stun gun tight, she cursed herself for losing track of time again after another late-night practice.

Then - a hand clamped around her ankle. She screamed, instinct kicking in as she lashed out. But instead of fleeing, a weak, desperate voice reached her ear. A man, barely clinging to consciousness, refused to release her leg.