Jameson lost contact a few years back, not long after he disappeared in Hong Kong. We both had unfinished business and I knew he would return. Neither of us forgot the past. Willow’s death had a stronghold over both of our lives, or what was left of them.
Vengeance was far too long in coming.
Chapter 5 – Azrael
Late night was the best time to ride. The roads were clear and quiet, and the desert seemed to hold a bit of mystery that appealed to my restless Reaper. Cool wind blew over my face and down the back of my head, billowing the leather cut I always wore in the breeze.
For the first time in days, I let the past drift away and released the tension from my shoulders. The bike rumbled beneath, and I was reminded of how simple this life could be, how easy it was to let my subconscious take over. I didn’t do that often. It was reckless, and yet I couldn’t resist a moment of brief indulgence. The pain was easier to deal with if I just let go . . .
I hadn’t really paid attention where I was riding until I ended up in Cherry Hollow. The area was known for prostitutes, drugs, crime, plenty of hidden back alleys, boarded up storefronts and abandoned homes, closed windows and locked doors, and people who didn’t even bother to peek outside when they heard the familiar and common screams. Neighborhoods that were owned by the street gangs, thugs, pimps, and dealers who ran them and demanded their protection for a price. Exactly the sort of place Solonik would run his business ventures.
Maybe I’d subconsciously decided to ride through these streets because of the possibility of finding any of those Russian fuckers or a glimpse of the man who had eluded me for years. I knew I’d never be happy until I had him in my dungeon, hanging like the punk ass bitch that he was while I methodically and slowly tortured him for days until I finally reaped his demented soul.
Not afraid of being spotted, I stopped to light a smoke. No one was outside in the middle of the night so close to dawn. The empty streets, cool wind on my face, and tranquil quiet soothed the beast within. My Reaper was docile, at least for now. He wasn’t in the habit of pushing his way through like he used to do when I was first converted. Time had given us both the patience we needed to plan and exact our vengeance. Ruthless and without mercy, we awaited fate to provide the opportunity.
Taking a deep drag, I inhaled and watched the first streaks of early dawn appear. It wasn’t surprising when I heard a bloodcurdling scream only a minute or two later. Normally, I didn’t like to interfere in something like this without a brother at my side, but my stomach clenched, and I couldn’t fight off the feeling that I needed to act.
Revving up my bike, I rode toward the source of the sound when the distinct odor of gasoline mixed with the pungent scent of burning flesh. I was off my Harley fast, running toward the fumes as my Reaper rushed to the surface. I couldn’t control his actions when I arrived at the back of an alley and found a girl lying on the ground as smoke billowed into the air and flames licked up the right side of her body. Several rich looking motherfuckers stood above her and laughed like it was a goddamn joke. They hadn’t noticed my presence yet.
These sick fucks were going straight to Hell.
No mercy. I’d enjoy their fear when they realized their mistake. My Reaper was barely contained.
I felt the transformation come over my body as my lip curled up in a snarl. Moving quickly, I darted forward and bent down to feel for the girl’s pulse. It was faint but steady as I tried to douse the flames. They were already dying out without more lighter fluid to spur the greed of the fire. Her arm was badly burned but my intervention prevented much worse. One of the punks was holding the bottle in his hand. The contents sloshed as he stopped shaking it. I stood up in front of the girl, ready to protect her if needed.
“What the fuck are you doing in my city?”
Yeah, Tonopah belonged to the Royal Bastards and we didn’t take it lightly when these spoiled college assholes showed up and took the party too far.
“Fuck off. We don’t answer to you.”
Wrong.
Smirking, I ticked my head in the direction of the dipshit who spoke. “Tell me who gave you permission to be in my fuckin’ city.” My voice was little more than a growl. For the first time, the three punks looked scared.
“We don’t want any trouble. Alexi said no one cared about this bitch.”
“That was your first mistake,” I answered, “but not
your last.”
The first guy charged like he was some kind of badass. I easily ducked his punch and slammed my fist into this throat. Dumb fucker fell to his knees, clutching at his windpipe. Yeah, that was going be a painful and slow death. The second guy seemed to grow some brass balls as he surged forward and I caught his arm, twisting it painfully as the joint snapped, and a loud chuckle burst from my lips. My Reaper’s laugh was fuckin’ demented. The idiot howled in pain as I kicked his kneecap and he dropped, clutching his forearm to his chest. My boot met his forehead. Game over.
“You ready?” I asked the guy with the lighter fluid.
He didn’t say anything but flipped open the top and pulled a lighter from his pocket. The flame appeared as he struck down with his thumb on the wheel. Grinning wider, I knew he was a special kind of stupid and my Reaper was begging for the chance to teach him a lesson he’d ponder for all eternity.
I gripped him by the throat and lifted him off his feet as he dropped the lighter and it clattered to the ground, followed by the fluid. Snarling, I felt the power of my Reaper surge forward and I began to suck in his life-force energy a little at a time.
Soon, he was nothing but a shell. His body fell to the ground with a thud as I released him.
When it was all over, I returned to the girl who was still incoherent. She mumbled something but passed out again, probably from the pain. It was then that I noticed her clothes were torn and dirty and most of her body had large areas that were soaked in blood. I could make out several slash marks from a knife or other sharp object. Dried blood also streaked her pale, naked thighs. The skirt failed to cover her lower half and revealed the lack of undergarments.
Shit.
She was a rape victim.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.