Six
The harsh shrills of a woman and child filled the air, and Tyrin was on his feet. Releasing his wings, he bounded to the metal door and tugged at the handle. Finding it locked, he tore it from the hinges, tossing it to the side where it scraped a curved line in the metal of the wall before clattering to the floor.
For people who needed his help, they sure had a problem trusting the man, and the thought had him nearly returning to the bed to let them sort their own problems. That was until another deafening scream had him racing passed the common area to follow the sound.
He raced past the first row of supplies, his wings knocking them over as he passed. Once at the entrance, he snatched open the door and rushed outside. He’d made it only a few feet before the sight of a man dragging away a kicking and screaming woman and child met his eyes.
“We need to go, now! He’ll have every Fallen within the city knocking on our doors within a day!” the man yelled, as the woman kicked at him.
She wiggled from his grasp before reaching for the child who, in turn, reached for her. But the man snatched the child back before she could make the connection.
The sound of feet pounding against pavement reached his ears and he looked back, seeing Letta, Brayden, and another man he had yet to meet coming up behind him.
“Benny, stop this! Please,” the woman cried, reaching for her child again.
He shoved her back hard enough she fell to the ground.
Spurred by the act of violence toward the woman, Tyrin rushed to her aid, tugging her to her feet, before reaching for the man she’d called Benny. He grabbed at the man’s wrist and applied just enough pressure to loosen his grip on the child. Once the child was safely at his mother’s side, Tyrin wrapped his fingers around the man’s arm, pulling him from his feet.
Their eyes met, and Tyrin pushed past the surface into the man’s mind and what he saw made him want to rip the man’s heart from his chest.
Flashes of the man’s memories unveiled themselves before him, and Tyrin couldn’t help the anger that brewed just beneath the surface. Each scene filled with blood, bruises and broken bones added to the intensity of the hatred he was beginning to feel for a man who’d done nothing but harm those he was supposed to love. Those gentle spirits the creator had left in his charge to provide for, honor, guide, and respect.
Closing the connection, he glanced back at the woman and child, his heart breaking. Brayden and the other young man who’d come with him were busy doing all they could to console the broken family. Try as they might, they knew nothing of the years of abuse the woman and child had suffered. They knew nothing of the man’s propensity for violence after drunken binges that left him unable to care for anyone but himself.
Tyrin knew, and that knowledge combined with the fearful look plastered on the child’s face pulled a hatred from him so fierce he trembled from the power of it.
“Let me go,” Benny spat at him, kicking at him just as his wife had done him.
He tightened his grip on the man’s arms, threatening to break bone. Their eyes met again, this time Tyrin forming a one-sided connection to flood the man’s mind with every ounce of pain he’d caused his family. Benny writhed and screamed within his grip, but he didn’t let up. Instead, he pushed further, harder, searing the images in Benny’s mind until he was certain he’d never forget. But the more he pushed, the more the man’s own hatred seemed to grow toward the family who’d fought against him to stay with a freak. Then he saw it. The man’s true intentions forced through the cloud of hatred and despair, making itself known.
Disgusted, Tyrin tossed the man back a few feet and called upon his dagger.
“Tyrin!” Letta ran to him, placing a calming hand on his arm. “They’re fine. He didn’t hurt them. They’re just scared.”
Remembering his audience, he recalled the dagger. For what he planned he needed no audience, especially when part of that audience was the only human who seemed to trust him and the man’s family.
Evil. Pure evil radiated from the man. It seeped from his pores, tangible and suffocating as Tyrin fought every fiber of his own being to allow the man to live. If only for a second. His days were numbered – not by man or god, but by Tyrin who stood between the suffering of the woman and child and the man who perpetrated it.
He turned toward Letta, his eyes ablaze from the anger and hatred that brewed within him. “Do not allow this man back in.”
His command was met with a confused stare from Letta.
“I can’t deny him sanctuary. He’s done nothing wrong.”
She shook her head, offering the creature – Tyrin refused to deem him human – a hand. Benny accepted that hand, taking it into his own and pulling himself from the ground. Collecting himself, he gave Letta an appreciative smile, and took a step toward his family.
His family cowered, slinking away from him and Tyrin grabbed him by the arm.
“If you take one step inside the sanctuary, I will kill you myself. No one here can stop me.”
A baffled look passed between Benny and Letta, but Tyrin had been clear. No matter the cost, he’d ensure the safety of the mother and son, and no one would stand in his way.
“Letta,” the man implored, feigning a heartfelt sigh. “I was only concerned for my family’s safety. I didn’t mean to cause any harm. I promise.”
Tyrin watched as Letta gazed between the both of them, weighing her options. On one hand, she needed Tyrin to stand by their side. On the other, she wanted to protect all humans from the tyranny of the Fallen, and she couldn’t be sure Tyrin didn’t fit the description of those wanting to control them.
“How about you take the night to yourself? We’ll figure this out in the morning,” Letta offered.
Malicious intent stained Benny’s eyes but, by the looks of things, he knew it would do him no good to combat it. “Fine. I will spend the night in a hotel room and we can revisit this in the morning.”
Letta agreed, though Tyrin knew different. They wouldn’t revisit the conversation in the morning if Tyrin had something to say about it.
Tyrin tucked away his wings, for the moment. He’d won his small battle, though he knew the war to come would be far more brutal. His plan set, he stalked past everyone and made his way to the infirmary. All he had to do was wait for them to fall asleep, and he’d make sure the man no longer posed a threat to his family.
Seven
Four hours. That’s how long it took to see every member of The Opposition asleep. It was also the amount of time it took for Tyrin to set his plan in motion.
He sat up in his bed, his muscles tensed and his resolve clear. It was pitch black in the room, but he could see everything clearly, his eyes adapting to the darkness.
He thought back on the memories he’d seen from the man, his target, as he shoved the blankets from his body and slid from the bed. The lengths the man would go to in an effort to elicit the most pain, sadness, and angst tugged at an ancient hatred he’d buried long before during the demon/angel war. He’d seen evil, deep in the dark eyes of demons who’d sought to wipe the Fallen from existence the moment they were forced out of heaven. It had been a long hard battle in the fields lined with decaying corpses from both sides but the Fallen had won.
That same evil was present within the man’s eyes. The man who’d used every weapon he could to beat his wife, creating bruises and broken bones that never healed correctly. The man who forced his son to watch as he took a belt to her. The boy would wince every time the sound of leather slapping against bare flesh tore through the air, mingling with the sobs and screams of the woman who’d shown nothing but love and compassion.
For years they’d endured the man’s cruelty, but that isn’t what struck Tyrin. Instead, it was the look of satisfaction in the man’s eyes as he issued each punishing lash. He fed off the fear and pain he dealt. It gave him the sort of sick satisfaction a man would get with a cheap hooker, and for that, Tyrin couldn’t let the man live.
He tu
gged on a black t-shirt that Brayden had been kind enough to lend him. Dark clothes against dark skin would help him as he clung to the shadows, making his way to the hotel he’d seen inside Benny’s head. Two minutes later, he was out of the compound, wind blowing through the feathers of his black wings as he soared through the sky. His wings flapped with intent, his eyes searching the city beneath him for the fluorescent sign of the seedy hotel. Spotting it, he landed in a small field across the street from it and tucked away his wings.
He allowed his eyes to take in the scene before him. Just beneath the fluorescent marquee stood prostitutes, bathed in the bright pink, green, and orange lights. In various degrees of undress, they stood there, cigarettes lit, approaching any car that ventured close enough. One would think they’d be worried about undercover officers approaching them, ready to place them in handcuffs. These weren’t. With the Fallen taking over the policing of the city, the prostitutes were free to carry on business without the threat of police involvement.
On either side of the building stood a group of large men, perhaps pimps, dealers or both. The parking lot was littered with debris, ranging from discarded food cartons to the occasional pipe or syringe.
Benny had wanted to bring his family to this place, a place no respectable man would ever want to frequent, but he’d known what he was doing. With the compound’s resources in steady decline, he’d meant to capitalize off the growing numbers of dealers and prostitutes, hoping to find work for his wife and son. They’d no doubt do anything he said, afraid of what he’d do to them if they didn’t comply. Either way, there’d be no happy ending for the family unless Tyrin took action.
He searched the area for any signs of the Fallen. About a block away, one stood at the corner leaning against a stop sign, but his attention was elsewhere. Still, Tyrin had to be careful. If one of the higher ups recognized him, they’d descend upon the place with enough force to wipe everyone out just to get to him.
He walked across the near empty street, passed the group of prostitutes, and headed for the main office. Once inside, a short, chubby man stood behind a dusty countertop behind a window of bullet proof glass.
“Can I help ya?” the man asked, taking a napkin and wiping the sweat from his balding head.
“I’m looking for someone. Benjamin or Benny. I don’t know the last name, but he checked in about four hours ago. He’s…”
The man waved a hand in the air, shaking his head. “I’m sorry but I can’t give ya that information. We take the privacy of our customers very seriously here.”
Tyrin let out an annoyed breath before reaching in his pocket and producing a hundred-dollar bill. He slid it beneath the glass and watched as the man snatched it up and held it up to the light. Satisfied the bill was real, he peered over his glasses at Tyrin, sizing him up.
“Did ya say Benny or Benjamin?”
“Yes.”
He turned toward the computer. Fat fingers decorated with golden rings that seemed tight enough to cut off his circulation went to work on the keyboard.
“Yea, we have a Benny here. Checked in ‘bout that time. Whadya want with him?”
“I need to speak to him,” Tyrin said, trying to hide his annoyance. “We have some business to discuss.”
The man shook his head. “We run a respectable establishment here, sir. By the looks of it, you mean to do more than juss speak to him. Which is fine by me. I’m only concerned about any damages...”
Tyrin plucked another hundred from his pocket and slid it beneath the glass. After inspection, the man slid it into the pocket of his jeans to join the first.
“Room one-seventy, in the back. He’s in dere wit one of my,” the man paused, perhaps trying to figure out a word for it, “workers. Do whateva ya want to this Benny feller but leave her intact. She owes me a boatload of money.”
Tyrin nodded his agreement as the man shoved keys under the window.
“Use da keys, will ya? A broken door is bad fer business.”
Tyrin collected the keys and tucked them into the pocket of his jeans before leaving through the front door. He stalked over to the side of the building, walking past a group of men placing bets on how much their women would make that night. Sticking to the shadows, he rounded the corner and was immediately grateful for the lack of light behind the building. The parking lot was empty except for three vehicles, one belonging to Benny. It sat in front of his room, a beacon for anyone who’d come to collect him. Had he been thinking, he could have saved himself the two hundred dollars and hid in the car, waiting for Benny to exit the room, enter the vehicle, and make his way back to the compound. No. That would have been risky. If the man had discovered Tyrin in the backseat of his compact car, the commotion could alert others of his presence, something he wanted to avoid.
He made his way to the room, coming to a stop just outside the door. His ears took in the sounds within the room, the muffled protests of a woman in distress mingled with the loud snores of who he could only assume was Benny.
Sliding the key into the door knob, he twisted it carefully, not wanting to make too much noise. When he slid into the room, he realized his efforts were in vain. Benny was passed out on the bed, face down and naked, a near empty bottle of Jack seated on the nightstand. Beside him was a woman, her eyes wide and pleading as she jerked at her restraints. He’d tied her to the bed posts and gagged her with a piece of cloth. She shook her head side to side, tossing around wild auburn curls as she fought to loosen the gag. It was enough movement to cause the bed to rock and beat against the wall above it, but it did nothing to stir Benny.
Tyrin walked toward the girl, pressing his finger to his lips to silence her. She complied when he reached for her gag and slid it from her. The moment he loosened her bonds, she slid from beneath the covers and began gathering her clothes. Her milky skin was peppered with deep welts, the products of the leather strap that laid across the arm of the chair beside him.
Whispering her thanks to him, she exited the room, tugging the door closed and leaving Tyrin alone with his mark. No doubt she’d return to her handler, the chubby man behind the counter who’d tell her to keep quiet about his presence there.
He looked down at the Benny, his lips twisted in disgust. It wasn’t enough he’d harm his own family for his sick thrills, but to harm others the same way was beyond the scope of reasoning. The man was a menace, a danger to anyone he came in contact with, a danger Tyrin was determined to put an end to.
Eight
Like clockwork, Aurora was awake and bouncing on their bed at six in the morning with no sign of returning to sleep. Letta groaned at the child, tossing and turning beneath the sheets, but she knew it would do no good. Sure enough, the little girl jumped on Letta’s back, tossing a blanket of blonde curls in Letta’s face.
“Get up, Mommy!”
Her giggles were like music, rejuvenating and soothing at the same time.
“Okay, okay. I’m up.” Letta rolled over, letting Aurora fall to the mattress beside her. “What do you want for breakfast?”
Aurora rattled off a list of items she knew they didn’t have but she didn’t stop the girl. Instead, her thoughts flitted about the ingredients they did have, putting together a meal she was certain would satisfy the little girl.
Two hours later, with Aurora fed and playing with the other children, Letta made her way to the infirmary. Anxiety thrummed though her as she knocked at the door. They had a lot to discuss, but first, Letta needed to know what happened last night. From what she could gather from Rene and Little Ben, Benny had meant to cart them off to a hotel, away from the Fallen who occupied the infirmary. Rene hadn’t wanted to leave and when pressed for a reason, she clammed up and ushered her son back to their room.
Letta had heard the arguments between the couple, on many occasions the words exchanged from them had been hateful enough to bring even her to tears. She’d heard the rumors from others who’d heard seen bruises Rene had tried to hide with makeup and layered clothing. W
ith no evidence, there was nothing she could do, and Rene hadn’t exactly asked for help.
Tyrin, however, needed no excuse to jump into action the moment he felt someone was in danger. He didn’t play by the same rules, which was a blessing and a curse within itself. He must’ve seen something within the man the night before to cause him to react the way he did, but, in the compound, there was a way to handle things. Tossing a distraught man out into the world could produce a substantial amount of threat to them and the people they cared for.
When he didn’t answer, she knocked on the door again, loud enough she could hear the sound bouncing from the walls within the room. Still no answer.
Thinking he just needed a bit of time to herself, she decided, instead, to seek out Rene. Knowing Benny, he’d be arriving soon, true to his word, and she wanted to know how to proceed. Without bothering to knock, she opened the door and slid into the room. Little Ben was there, curled into a corner as he watched his mother frantically collecting their belongings.
“Where are you going?” Letta asked, concerned.
“Benny will be here to pick us up any minutes now and I don’t want to keep him waiting.”
She reached for Little Ben who slunk back against the corner, trying desperately to stay just out of her reach.
“It doesn’t look like Little Ben wants to go with you,” Letta said. Claiming a seat on the bed beside the boy, Letta allowed the scene before her to answer questions she should have asked before. The boy was terrified of his father, it was clear in his eyes as he glanced up at Letta, pleading silently with her.
“Rene,” Letta began. “I know what you are going through.”
She instantly regretted the words when Rene whipped her head around, tossing her a look of disdain. “You know nothing. You think you know what I’m going through because of the rumors, the arguments? That is small compared to what my son and I have endured.”
“Then why continue to subject yourselves to it?”
From Darkness: Fallen Into Shadows Book One Page 4