(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

"Are you... wearing perfume?"
Annah paused, smiling into my ear. "Just a dab from an ol' vendor..." she
murmured, "Guess it lingers, it does..."
Her fingertips trailed along my back, nails gently grazing my scars and
sending electric jolts of sensation whenever they found a rough lump along
that puckered, twisted flesh.
She was right though... I could feel the fiend blood in her, pulsing like liquid
fire in her veins, flooding the heat through her body. It came through that
slit in her vest, and radiated from her bare skin in waves. Powers above she
was warm, and soft. So soft...
My hand reached down to check my purse.
I reached down in time to grab Annah's tail, then slowly unwound it from my
pack. Annah stepped back, and the sudden rush of cold air left me chill, but I
doubted the shiver was from that. She gave a grin. "Is that what yeh meant?
Nickin' a purse offa a mark like that, aye? Dead-easy, it is."
"Yes..." my voice creaked like that of a lad on the cusp of adolescence. "I,
uh," I deepened back into that coarse rumble, "I think you've got the hang of
it."
Suddenly, something changed. A cold wind whipped up from the street,
carrying an unnatural chill that seeped deep into my bones. Whispers of sins
long forgotten ate at my soul in little nibbles like ants pecking at a still-living
animal, beginning to strip away the skin. Then it kicked in, that primal,
reptilian core of my brain that shrieked for every cell of my being to-
“What is it?”
"Run..." I whispered hoarsely.
Annah blinked, clutching her bare arms. Her eyes flicked back and forth,
"What are yeh on abou-"
"Run!" I screamed, drawing my dagger.
They rose from the corners of the ward, tendrils snaking out from the
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