Dark Deceit

by Imani L Hawkins

  Those questions plagued her as she waited for the man to enter the room.

  He did so an hour later, closing the door behind him. “What is it with you and this room?”

  “It’s the only place to get privacy around here.”

  He tossed her a glance that read bullshit but didn’t say anything else on the matter. Instead, he claimed the seat opposite of her as he’d done before.

  His demeanor was cool, relaxed, as if the past twenty-four hours were nothing but a distant memory to him. Perhaps it was, though Letta couldn’t get over the fact he’d taken pleasure in killing a man – no matter how depraved she knew the man to be. It unnerved her to no end, causing the muscles of her throat to tense enough she felt she couldn’t breathe.

  Tyrin must have sensed the change in her. He studied her, his eyes weary. “Are you alright?”

  Taking a few deep breaths, she responded, “Actually, I don’t know how I feel. I do know that I’d like to figure out how to get rid of the Fallen and reclaim our city.”

  “Very well, then,” Tyrin said before spilling out a load of information Letta had trouble keeping up with.

  He explained the hierarchy of the Fallen, from the council who rules over them all to the peons, or at least that’s what she’d call them. The council was a group made up of the strongest of the Fallen, their powers and strength far surpassing those beneath them. Second were the enforcers. These were the ones in charge of policing the city which explains what Tyrin has said before. It wouldn’t be wise to put the weakest amongst them in a position that could bring harm to them. Instead, they were seated as mayors, city council, and other high-ranking positions in firms across the city. They were heavily guarded and impossible to get to.

  The more she spoke, the more she began to realize what they were planning was impossible.

  “There’s really no way to fight them and win,” Letta murmured. “They are basically everywhere.”

  “As I’ve told you before, they spent years putting everything in place. They’ve been teachers, therapists, doctors, you name it. They built ties in this community that is difficult to sever. Even if you were able to take down the mayor, for example, there is already a Fallen ready to take his place, and the retaliation would be brutal.

  “You have to understand, what you see here is only a small group of Fallen. There are millions of us, some choosing to continue lurking around in the shadows in hopes of eventually being allowed back home, others who are tired of being invisible. Thousands of years separated from our home with no connection to our creator while we watch humanity venture further and further from him became too much for a lot of us to bare. Especially considering all it would take is an apology from a human to be granted access into heaven. We don’t even know where we’d go if we die. Without souls, we’re not guaranteed a spot in heaven or hell for that matter. We may only cease to exist, something that would terrify any living being.

  “That’s why they’ve decided to make a change. For them, integrating themselves within society wasn’t enough. They are stronger, smarter, and have sat by watching as humans committed atrocity after atrocity – unnecessary wars, genocide, the way you pollute the Earth with trash. You don’t even realize what a blessing it is to simply be alive. Integrating into that chaos has no appeal but placing themselves in positions of power to control the chaos may even see them invited back home, should they succeed.”

  It definitely was a lot to take in and Letta found herself listening intently, keeping mental notes. “I don’t see how taking control of one city is going to help them achieve that goal.”

  “Burnsville is nothing but a test. There are bigger plans in the works.”

  That made sense. One would have to get their foot in the door somehow and what better way to test their project’s effectiveness than on a smaller scale. If it worked, it would give them the blue print to take on much larger cities, pushing their agenda through political means and taking over every office until congress was filled with them.

  In her lifetime, she’d seen how easy it was for anyone to take office as the President of the United States. It wouldn’t be hard for them at all once they’ve gained control over the majority of the country’s population.

  Tyrin had been right. There was a lot they didn’t know, which is why any plan they came up with was doomed. Fighting them was not an option, even if they had an arsenal at their disposal.

  She slammed a tight fist against the table, ignoring the pain it caused. Had she not stumbled upon Tyrin that night, she would have led her people into a slaughterhouse with no way out.

  Tyrin stood from his seat, coming to her side. Squatting beside her, he tossed an arm across her shoulder. “Just because you can’t go after them violently doesn’t mean there isn’t a way to stop this. Think about it. What is the main rule heavily enforced by them?”

  Letta searched her mind for the answer. The first she could think of was the rule about showing violence toward them, but that rule wasn’t something they had to really enforce. The threat of punishment was enough to deter most from violently attacking them, along with the fact there wasn’t much humans could do to actually kill a Fallen.

  She thought back on the meeting Brayden had set up for her, the meeting that never took place thanks to the Fallen behind the bar. From what she knew, the man was a city planner of sorts who’d helped the Fallen close down the city to keep the residents in. That’s when it hit her. Brayden would have never sent her to meet someone unless that person could help them with their cause. He was far too careful with her, wanting to keep her safe at all costs. This man, however, had information to provide that was worth risking her life for – information that might help them exit the city.

  She shook her head at the thought of it. Brayden never told her what he expected from the man, and she never asked. She trusted him with her life and never once thought he’d keep something from her so vital, but he had.

  Her eyes met Tyrin’s. “To stay within the city. They’ve been able to keep us walled up in this city, even as they allowed the occasional tourists to enter. I’ve always wondered how they were able to do that.”

  “Trust me. It takes a lot of man power and resources.”

  “Remember that night at the bar? I was supposed to meet a man there and try to get information from him. He was a city planner who played a role in locking down the city. Do you think they knew what he was planning to do?” It would only have made sense. Before she’d even seen him, his life was extinguished.

  Tyrin gave her a slight nod, enough to send her mind racing. The answer had been there all along. She’d thought of it herself that night in the bar. A few hundred tourists entering and exiting the city weren’t much of a threat. If any of them were to discover what was going on, it wouldn’t be hard for the Fallen to make sure they disappeared. On the off-chance any left the city and tried to report it, they’d have a difficult time convincing anyone to believe them.

  Privacy had been important to them. It was for that reason they controlled the airways and television stations within the city. And there laid the answer. An attempt to leave the city with enough people to alert the authorities of problems within the city was dangerous. But what if they could use the cities broadcasting system to seek help?

  “I’ll be right back,” she said, exiting the room. If she were to put the plan together, she’d need Brayden’s help.

  Twelve

  Cold air pumping into the room had Tyrin feeling a bit uncomfortable. He could deal with the cold when necessary, but he hated the feeling of it against his skin. He looked up at the vents overhead, wondering if there was a way to prevent the blast of air that was pushing into the room. He couldn’t imagine someone would have turned on the air conditioning in the middle of November when the nights were so cold he could see his breath in the air.

  He released his wings and flew up to the vent. The propellers weren’t turning which didn’t explain the massive amounts of air pushing through. L
ooking further he saw the night sky, just beyond the metal shaft. It made no sense. Most places like that was equipped with doors that closed off access to the outside world and kept the cold out, but from the looks of things, the hatch was left wide open.

  Upon further inspection, he could see a dim red light pulsating just above the propellers. It would take him no time at all to rip the vent open and figure out what it was, but he didn’t need to. He’d been able to hear the short beeps and hums of the camera from the moment he’d first stepped into the room a couple days ago.

  At first, he’d been concerned the device was planted by a Fallen, but that theory was dismissed when none showed up to collect him. Any Fallen made aware of his whereabouts were to report it to the council, and it would take mere moments for them to descend upon the building, wielding every weapon in their arsenal to bring him down. No. It was someone within the compound who felt the need to record every conversation that took place in that room, which also explained why the hatch had been opened.

  He descended until his feet touched the floor and tucked in his wings. He could hear the approaching footsteps of Letta and another and didn’t want to alert them of his new find.

  Letta stepped into the room with Brayden fresh on her heels with a small television in hand. His hostile disposition dampened the mood in the room, but Tyrin was growing used to it. It was the sign of an alpha-male, defending his territory against any who thought to take something from him, and Tyrin had no intentions of flexing his own muscles to correct the man.

  “Tyrin,” Brayden gave his sour greeting, in no way trying to hide his distaste for the man. He sat the television on the table and stretched the cord to reach an outlet. “There’s something I need to show you and Letta.”

  Brayden fumbled around with the integrated VCR, a device Tyrin hadn’t seen used in years. After pressing a series of buttons, the screen came to life.

  He watched as a reporter situated herself in front of a burning building and pressed an earphone into her ear. She gave the person behind the camera a nod before a somber expression seized her face.

  “We are live outside of City Hall where a massive explosion has reduced the building to rubble, taking the lives of at least forty people, including Mayor Marcy Derringer. Members of the Burnsville Police Department are working closely with the Fire Department to assist any survivors. We’re being told this was the result a terrorist attack, orchestrated by one David Hartfield in collusion with the mayor’s former campaign manager Kiana Ryse. David Hartfield is being detained at the Burnsville Detention Facility. Kiana Ryse is believed to have died in the explosion. We’ll have more details for you as they become available.”

  The video paused as a sharp intake of breath had Tyrin turning his attention to Letta. Her hand was pressed to her mouth as tears spilled from her eyes.

  “That’s impossible,” she said, her voice cracking beneath the weight of her emotion. “David would never do anything like this. He’d never hurt all of those innocent people.”

  Brayden shook his head. “A man desperate enough is capable of doing anything. I should never have kicked him out.”

  Tyrin quirked a brow at Brayden. Though his body language read pain and sadness, there was a certain quality to it that felt forced.

  Letta rushed to Brayden’s side and threw her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace.

  “David didn’t do this. I know he didn’t,” she sobbed into his shoulder. “They’ll kill him. We need to get him out of there.”

  She pushed herself from Brayden’s arms and approached Tyrin. “Is there any way you could help us free David?”

  Tyrin shook his head. “That explosion took out members of the Fallen. Do you know how many of our kind are probably searching for ways to kill him themselves? There is no way they are keeping him in a detention center where he’d be dead before trial. He’s somewhere else being guarded by a large group of enforcers.”

  Letta’s shoulders slumped forward at the news.

  “There may be a way,” Brayden said, stepping forward. “The Fallen always conducts their trials at the County Courthouse, right? They’ve always tried to mirror our justice system, which means they’ll have to transport him to the courthouse for arraignment on Monday, two days from now. He’ll need a lawyer who’s willing to defend him and keep tabs on his case. That will at least give us some time to figure out where he is being detained.”

  “Even if we found out where he’s being detained, we’d need an army to break him out. It won’t work.”

  “Unless we grab him at the courthouse,” Letta spoke up.

  Tyrin and Brayden both pierced Letta with looks of disbelief.

  “Think about it. If they were concerned someone would make a move on David, they’d have him guarded wherever he is and during transport, right? Rene knows that courthouse in and out.” She turned her attention to Tyrin. “She was a lawyer before Benny forced her to give up her career. She could defend David in court.”

  Tyrin nodded in understanding. “We will need a bigger plan than Rene defending David to really make a difference here.”

  “You’re right,” Brayden acknowledged. “We need a group of people willing to scope out the courthouse and find any weaknesses in the Fallen’s defense. I’ll call our best operatives into this room.”

  Thirteen

  Brayden stood before a group of twelve in the conference room, his stance domineering. Letta had always hated the way he presented himself, like an admiral at war with his minions ready to do his bidding. That was Brayden, the man who always held an air of authority.

  His gaze flicked from member to member, perhaps assessing their willingness to do what was needed. A slight grimace twisted his lips.

  “Earlier today we discovered that someone had set off a great deal of explosives at City Hall. The building was destroyed and at least forty people were killed, Fallen and human.”

  A string of gasps filled the air as Brayden continued. “They’ve named two suspects in the attack – Kiana Ryse and David Hartfield.”

  “Your brother?” Cameron, a stalky young man with brown eyes and shoulder-length blonde hair, asked.

  “Yes.”

  Brayden’s confirmation sent another wave of gasps throughout the room.

  “That’s impossible,” Rene spoke up. “David would never do anything like this. He could never kill all those people.”

  Panicked brown eyes met Letta’s. Rene had been through so much the past couple days, evidenced by the dark crescent marks beneath her eyes and the deep worry lines etched above her brow.

  “We know,” Letta assured her, ignoring the annoyed glance Brayden tossed her. “That’s why we’re trying to come up with a way to save him.”

  “Correct. That’s why we need your help.” He turned his gaze toward Rene. “You’re a lawyer, and if memory serves me correctly, you were a damn good one. Do you think you could petition the court to allow you to defend David?”

  Rene shook her head. “I haven’t practiced in years. I’m not sure I’d be effective counsel.”

  “That’s not my concern. No matter how well you represent him, he’d be found guilty. We all know this. I only need you to see what you can find out about his whereabouts and let us know when he’ll be at court. We plan to break him out of the courthouse.” Brayden explained.

  Rene agreed to do her part as best she could.

  Brayden, then, directed his attention to Cameron and Giselle. “We need surveillance on that building.”

  Brayden explained the plan to the others while Rene slid from the room, nearly undetected except that Letta had been eying her the entire time. Concerned, Letta followed after her, catching her just as she opened the door to her room.

  “Rene.” Letta grabbed her arm, tugging her to a stop. “Is everything okay?”

  Rene recoiled away from her instantly before relaxing her stance.

  Letta, realizing her mistake, uncurled her fingers from around Rene’s wri
st. “I’m sorry.”

  Rene gave her a sheepish smile. “You did nothing wrong.” She paused for a bit before saying, “until now, I wasn’t sure why everyone always acted timid around me. It’s like they’re afraid of touching me or offending me in some way. I always thought it was Benny. I never once suspected it was my reaction to the simplest of touches.”

  Rene laughed, a laughter that seemed oddly out of place. Though Letta had never been in the situation, she could understand why Rene’s reaction had been so abrupt.

  Rene’s laughter intensified. “My goodness,” she said between guffaws. “Am I really that bad?”

  At that moment, Letta realized she was doing exactly what others have done to Rene for years. She was trying desperately to understand, while refusing to treat Rene as a normal human being, free from the abuse of her husband. She let out a laugh of her own. The absurdity of it was comical.

  “There you go. Do you realize how long it’s been since we’ve shared laughter here? The children laugh and play as if the world isn’t crumbling beneath us. Yet, we sit here in a daze, somber, waiting for the next ball to drop.” Rene shook her head. “I like Brayden’s plan. It feels like, for once, we’re taking matters into our own hands, dropping our own balls. And we have a secret weapon of our own in Tyrin.”

  “You really trust him?”

  “Tyrin? Of course, I trust him. Don’t you?”

  Letta thought of it for a moment. His actions regarding Benny had been questionable, but he’d had good intentions. Added to that, he did give them a lot of information regarding the Fallen, leveling the playing field a bit. But, what that enough to trust him?

  “I really don’t know how to answer that question,” Letta admitted.

  Rene reached up to give Letta’s shoulder a gentle squeeze before turning away from her and stepping into her room.