by J. L. Sutton
“It’s a little late for lies now.” I lifted my hand, drawing the gun up so the sight was pinned between his eyes, and pulled back the hammer. “I’m going to give you a minute to make peace with what you’ve done. I’d recommend using the time wisely.”
“No. No. No. Please, you can’t! I’m sorry okay! Take me to the cops. I swear I’ll tell them everything. You don’t have to do this.” Reese began to sputter incoherently after that, his expression growing more panicked by the second as the situation dawned on him.
Tightening my grip on the pistol in my hands, I placed my finger on the trigger. One second, one tiny squeeze of my finger, and this would all be over.
I felt it all then. Every emotion I locked away since I took one step out of my car came crashing down on me like a crowd of a thousand whispers, pulling me in all directions. It was deafening. In all the chaos brimming around the surface of my mind a single image stood out, a memory forgotten for years.
It was a lazy Saturday afternoon, Claire and I were in my apartment watching some show she liked—for the life of me I could never remember the name. She had fallen asleep halfway through the show, leaning into my shoulder with my arm wrapped around her waist. I remembered looking down at her, seeing the peaceful look on her face and wondering to myself how I ever ended up being so lucky to have her all to myself. Why did she chose me?
Why my mind chose to show me that memory was anyone’s guess, but I knew what I was meant to do—just like Jennifer said I would. My vision cleared, bringing me back to the present, where Reese’s face was still set between my sights and I took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as I closed my eyes.
Claire, please forgive me.
With a smooth, steady motion, I put my thumb on the hammer and eased it back into place before sliding my finger from the trigger. Then my hand lashed out, my fist catching Reese squarely in the jaw, and grasping his face he dropped to his knees.
In all my dreams Claire’s murderer was a ruthless, remorselessly cold killer who was defiant until the bitter end. As I watched Reese fall apart at the seams, I knew I couldn’t do it—I wouldn’t end a man who was no threat to me, begging for his life. He was a coward, preying on those who didn’t stand a chance against him, and if I killed him now, then how could I claim to be any different? Dawn would never have wanted this, and, as much as it tore me apart to break my promise and let her death go unpunished, in my heart I knew—Claire wouldn’t either.
They both placed their faith in me unquestioningly, and I wanted to be someone worthy of that trust. Not the vengeful, broken man I would become if I pulled the trigger. I would find another way to help Dawn, one she would approve of.
“Thank you!” Reese bleated, relief washing over his swelling face.
“Don’t thank me,” I said menacingly, my mind drifting to the memory of Claire and me. “If it was up to me, I’d have put a bullet between your eyes before you got a word out. You can thank the innocent girl you ripped from her family, from me. She’s the one who spared your miserable life tonight. Make no mistake though—this isn’t over, not by any measure. I’ll be watching you, waiting in the shadows for when you least expect it, and one day I will find a way to give you what you deserve. It may not be tomorrow, or even a decade from now, but I will prove you’re guilty. You have my word on that.”
He nodded hastily in agreement as I spoke, the jerky, mechanical movements fueled by the shock still running rampant through his system. I knew it meant nothing—Reese would agree to just about anything I said if it kept him alive, but as wasted as my threat was I wanted him to hear the words so he had no excuses, nothing to hide behind when I did come. My memories of Claire may have stayed my hand tonight, but if he so much as looked at someone in a way I didn’t like I would come back and then he wouldn’t be so lucky. I would put him down without a second’s hesitation, an urge I had to fight right now.
He stood slowly and tried to regain some measure of composure, swallowing with some difficulty before he tried to speak. “I, I swear to you, that I—”
Reese’s blue eyes grew impossibly wide, the words forming a wet, strangled gasp as they died in his throat. For a moment he just stood there, locked in a pose of utter shock as his face contorted into a mask of excruciating pain. The next moment he was clawing at his overalls where a bright crimson spot appeared, the hot blood blossoming across the fabric like an opening flower around the neat hole that was punched through his chest. He took an unsteady step forward, reaching out towards me with a wordless plea on his lips. Then I watched in stunned disbelief as he crumpled to the floor, and the figure standing behind him came into view.
The man was as tall and lean as Reese, with broader shoulders. He looked to be in his twenties, short sandy brown hair and deep, rich tanned skin. Sharp, lively midnight eyes marked him as a seraph, but his most striking feature was directly behind him.
A pair of graceful wings sprouted from his back, each as tall and twice as wide as the man they belonged to. Both terrifying and beautiful, the featherless obsidian pinions were sleek and glassy, composed of the same molten shadow Dawn once showed me on the beach. They seemed to be in constant flux, solidifying for a moment, only to reshape as the viscous substance turned to liquid smoke that stirred and flowed within itself, swift as quicksilver.
I stared open mouthed at the man whose face I didn’t recognize, my mind desperately trying to piece together what just happened. Pushing past the near crippling fear that left me immobilized I tore my gaze from the stranger to the floor where Reese had fallen. He lay writhing in pain, curled up in a small ball between me and the seraph. A low whimper escaped his lips, but it sounded dry—there was no air getting to his lungs.
What little sense of self-preservation I had left told me to run. This seraph just dropped Reese without pause, and for all I knew I was next. But I knew better. There was no point in trying to run, hide or fight back. Whatever he was here for, he would get it, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to stop him. I had no chance whatsoever. Zero.
Knowing this simple truth, I looked back at the man, my eyes defiant. I wouldn’t go down begging.
The man gave me a peculiar look, his dark eyes betraying no emotion as they scanned over me, reading my own mix of emotions. He approached slowly, stepping around Reese as if he wasn’t there, like he was beneath his notice. His liquid wings reacted to his movements, cloaking him in shadow with every step he took forward, only to retract with the next, all the while swirling and reforming.
“You disappoint me, Mr. Hadley.” The seraph shook his head, looking down at Reese for a moment before he continued in a clear, calm voice. “I took you for a man who could get the job done."
Mr. Hadley. He knows who I am, knows me by name. A sickening feeling crept into my chest, threatening to break through my already crumbling defenses. As I felt his dark eyes bore into me I said a silent prayer, asking whoever was listening to take care of my little sister. I swallowed, trying my best not to let any weakness show. “Who are you? What do you want from me?”
A small smile spread across the seraph’s face, his expression amused. Then he closed his eyes and his wings spread open, the long, thin tips almost brushing against the low ceiling. His outline became a blur as he changed, the shadow enveloping his form until he was nothing more than a silhouette, dark and immaterial as the wings sprouting from his back. Before I could blink he vanished, the only trace left of him was the trail of black vapors he left in his wake.
I stood staring at the empty space the unnamed seraph was a moment ago, ready to be cut down at any moment. As the seconds passed the pins and needles faded and I allowed myself to breathe.
The storm was still raging outside, streaks of bright light washing over the workshop as I dropped to my knees. Reese lay at my feet, twitching limply and barely breathing. Warm, sticky blood flowed freely from the neat gash in his chest, pooling under his head and torso, staining his clothes and hair dark maroon.
Gritting my tee
th I reached for the knife strapped just above my boot, slid it out of its sheath, and pressed the blade against Reese’s neck.
22. Dark light
The knife slashed out, parting the fabric of Reese’s shirt down the middle.
Whatever pierced his chest had gone through both sides with little effort, missing his heart by less than an inch. I applied pressure to the wound, desperately trying to stem the blood trickling from him. I knew I was only delaying the inevitable—one look at the ragged ribbons of flesh that used to be his chest told me it was fatal. His lung had likely collapsed, the wound far too wide to be stitched together. Reese had already lost so much blood I was surprised he was still conscious. His lips were ashen, each shallow breath pure agony. He opened his eyes then and tried to speak, the faint words barely a whisper.
“Don’t talk. If you don’t get your heart rate down you’ll only bleed out quicker,” I said as I cut a slip of fabric from his overall, rolled it up tightly, and forced it into the hole in his chest. Ignoring my words, Reese gripped my forearm and with surprising strength he managed to lift his head.
His voice was little more than a gurgle. “I’m s-s-sorry. Please, forgive me.”
I was caught so off guard by his request that my hands froze, still tightly pressing together the gaping wound in his chest. Dammit. Not now, not like this. Seeing anyone suffer was the last thing I ever wanted, but how could I be expected to feel sympathy for the man who took my Claire? How had I landed up trying to save his life, when not ten minutes ago I was ready to kill him myself? And now he wanted my forgiveness?
I officially reached my limit—there was only so much someone was meant to take. Hadn’t the seraph done me a favor by taking care of Reese, so I didn’t have to? No, I didn’t believe that, but even if Reese knew he was dying, surely he couldn’t expect me to forgive him? The outcome I set out to accomplish was within my grasp, and I didn’t want any of it. Not one drop. This was all wrong, twisted so far from what I imagined it was beyond comprehension.
Something in my peripheral vision caught my attention, and I turned my head in time to see Ivy appear next to the doorway. I barely noticed the pair of sleek black wings that arched over her head as she rushed over to me, her expression severe and black eyes narrowed.
“How long ago did he leave?” she hissed. The tension rolling off her was almost palpable, the gleam in her panicked eyes giving her a feral appearance. “What happened?”
There was no room left in me for shock—this night drained me of what little fear I had left. I answered in a steady voice, my losing battle to keep Reese conscious taking up most of my attention. Ivy listened to my clipped sentences without interruption, her eyes constantly scanning the room as I spoke.
“I came as soon as I got the call for him,” Ivy said after a long moment, motioning her head to Reese. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. No other seraph should’ve been here.”
“Who was he?” I asked without looking at her, my attention still focused on the wet compress.
“I have no idea,” Ivy snarled. “I don’t recognize the scent, or have the slightest clue how a renegade slipped into Dawn’s territory without me noticing. I had no idea you were in danger, not like this anyway. This is serious. I need to get you out of here—Logan needs to hear about this, immediately.”
Renegade? I turned to her, the question forming on my lips, but she gave me a sharp look that brooked no argument.
“P-please,” Reese moaned, drawing our attention back to him. He sounded weaker than before, what little strength left to him was fading quickly now.
I looked over at Ivy crouched next to me and she shook her head, her meaning obvious. “It’s time.”
Reese’s request still hung in the air, stinging at me like a hornets nest bouncing around my skull. I could see myself saying the words, giving some measure of comfort, if only for a moment, but I wouldn't lie to a dying man. I let go of the bloody fabric I clutched to his chest, resigned myself to open defeat, and lifted his head.
“One day, I will.”
That was the best I could do. Breathing out slowly I nodded to Ivy, too numb to fight what happened next. Ivy leaned close to Reese, her black wings covering him in a soft shadow. Then she turned to me. “You don’t need to see this.”
“Yes, I do.”
Less than half an hour ago I planned to kill Reese, and no matter what my feelings towards the dying murderer were, it felt wrong not be there in the end.
Ivy nodded in understanding, and turning back to Reese she bent low and whispered something in his ear. With a gentleness I hadn’t seen in her before, Ivy stroked Reese’s cheek before placing two fingers on his forehead. Reese’s low moan became a quiet sigh, his pain stricken expression easing, and with a final twitch he stilled, his chest no longer rising. Ivy ran her fingers slowly down his peaceful face, closing his eyes before she lowered his head onto the concrete floor.
She took his hand, turned it over, and as she ran her finger down Reese’s wrist it began to glow faintly. Wisps of bluish-white light were drawn from his skin, forming three little tendrils that spiraled up Ivy’s finger and into her palm. The glow began to fade and she turned her hand over, revealing a small sphere of liquid light that gently spun in her palm. Then she closed her fingers into a fist, and the Lucem Vitae vanished.
Ivy turned to me, the rims of her obsidian eyes brightly highlighted by a bluish-white tinge. “We need to leave, now.”
I looked down at my hands. The gloves I still wore were covered in Reese’s blood. I didn’t know what to think of that, nor did I have anything left in me to decide how it made me feel. Right now it took all the control I had just to stay on my feet. Still, I wanted answers. Why did this unnamed seraph kill Reese? I didn’t even think that was possible—hadn’t Dawn said it was the worst crime imaginable? How did he know me, why let me live to see what he did?
“What happened here tonight?” I asked in a shaky voice, still half mesmerized by what I just witnessed.
“There will be time for questions later.” Ivy stood, her spectral wings spreading open with the movement, and gripped the gleaming pendant around her neck, brushing her fingers along the uncut green gem. “Right now I need you to do as I say. Sebastian will be waiting for you when you get home. Are you in a fit state to drive?”
I didn’t know if I could do anything right now. I closed my eyes, trying to make sense of the mess in my head, a whirlwind as chaotic as the storm still raging outside. One thought rose above the rest, so blindingly bright all I could do was latch onto it.
Somehow, be it fate or just dumb luck—I was alive.
I’d get to walk away. Get to see the brilliant smile on my sweet sister’s face when I saw her again. It wasn’t anything close to what I had in mind, but fate was set right. Dawn hadn’t changed anything after all. The rest, I could deal with.
Move. I pushed the office door open with my shoulder as I struggled to peel off the bloody gloves, and without pausing to look around me I dashed down the sidewalk. Don’t look back, keep moving. The storm seemed to come down harder than before. I slowed my pace as I pushed through the curtain of water—all the while trying not to think, not to feel.
Just keep moving. I almost ripped the car door off in my haste, so anxious to get inside and away from the building that I tossed the bloody gloves on the passenger seat instead of the plastic bag I brought for them. Move Hadley. My hands shook against the steering wheel as I closed my eyes, silently begging the images seared into my mind to leave me just long enough to get home. Don’t think, don’t look back.
Reese had been a killer. Claire’s killer. I came here tonight with the single purpose to end his life, and somehow I accomplished that without getting my hands dirty. He deserved what he got. So why the hell did I feel so wrong, so . . . guilty? My head was too crowded too think straight. Ivy was right—I needed to get out of here. This wasn’t something I could deal with right now, let alone help with. I closed my eyes for a moment, tryin
g to force away the images, and taking a deep breath that failed to calm my nerves, I slipped the keys into the ignition.
Sebastian was not waiting for me when I returned home, at least, not in any way I was expecting.
I unlocked the door and walked inside, my hands still shaking as I turned on the lights. I could feel his presence lingering at the back of my mind, but when I called out to him there was no reply. Panic crept into me as I realized it might not be Sebastian that was here, but someone else entirely. I instinctively reached for the gun still tucked in my pocket. My fingers wrapped around the handle, ready to draw the weapon when I remembered it would do little more than make a tidy hole in a seraph’s shirt. I started to pace back and forth across the lounge, annoyed at whoever was hiding. I desperately wanted some answers. I tried thinking of something, anything to take away this numb, sinking feeling rumbling through my chest.
Every time I closed my eyes I saw Reese’s face, the fear in his eyes as he collapsed to the floor. I lived through so much senseless loss in my life, but it was very different watching someone actually pass on. I hated feeling any sympathy for the bastard, but no one should have to linger, and a part of me was glad he hadn’t. A cold shiver ran through my body as I recalled Ivy’s hand tracing Reese’s wrist, watching the last dredges of his life slip away.
I tried to convince myself it was natural, life and death coming together in ways I couldn’t fully understand. It happened every day, whether I liked it or not. I knew it shouldn’t bother me—but it did.
Dawn was right all along. I hadn’t even killed Reese myself, and I was already feeling remorse. Defending yourself was easy. In that moment, when your life was at stake it was the simplest thing in the world to fight back. But what I was about to do to Reese, was something else entirely. Watching Ivy take him made me see just how difficult their jobs really were. Even if they weren’t the ones pulling the trigger, they still had to watch it all, over and over. I would never question their roles again. It got me thinking about the role I played tonight. The seraph knew my name. What if he was there because of me? Had I in some way caused Reese’s death after all?