DEATH BRINGER NOVEL

Chapter Two

Azriel’s scarred skin had always served as a constant reminder of the deaths he had taken, of the lives he had harvested and the pain he had endured as part of his punishment for what he had done to their kind. But two scars in particular kept catching his eye over the years that followed, one jagged vertical line on each of his wrists.

Other scars twisted and weaved around them, the deaths of so many more that had come before her, marred his bronze skin. He found himself inspecting them again as he stood in the shade of the trees opposite her school.

Her name was Grace he’d learned after leaving the hospital that night. One of the nurses had cried it, as they grabbed her away from the body she had knelt with him beside.

He had taken to watching over the tiny human, even though he knew getting involved in her life would be dangerous for them both. Between jobs he would find himself checking on her, trying to get as close as possible so he could monitor her without being discovered.

Grace’s Mother, he discovered, was addicted to a type of poison that even he, as an immortal, would never try. Some evenings she would inject it into her veins and disappear entirely from their world. During those nights, he’d sit outside Grace’s window and guard her from danger. No more than a shadow to the rest of the world, he would try desperately to keep her safe.

He watched as she trudged through the school gates with a gaggle of giggling teenage girls, walking behind them he saw how she tried to take part in their conversation. Desperately trying to be one of them but never quite managing it.

She didn’t let it bother her though. She carried on, trying to be a part of a group she didn’t seem to quite fit in with.

Sticking to the shadows, he accompanied her home. One by one her friends disappeared, heading in their own directions, walking towards their comfortable houses and loving parents. Still, Grace held her head high as she entered the trailer park.

Trying the handle of her caravan with one hand, she held her keys ready in the other just in case it was locked.

It always made Azriel uncomfortable knowing what she was going home to, not knowing how her mother would be, whether tonight she would get to be a child or whether she would be cleaning up the mess of the woman that was supposed to be taking care of her.

It wasn’t until Grace’s door clicked open that it hit him. The smell. It drifted to him slowly, the all-to-familiar stench.

When you dealt with death as long as Azriel had, you recognised it’s calling card.

He froze. He couldn’t get his limbs to move as he watched Grace enter the caravan.

“Mom,” he heard her whimper. A tiny, broken noise escaped her and without thinking Azriel moved. He left the safety of his shadows and sprinted to the door of the caravan.

Grace had her head on her Mom’s lifeless chest. He had never seen her look so small. He didn’t need to look at the table in front of Grace’s Mom to know what she’d done. To understand what had happened. The fresh needle marks on the inside of her upturned arm were enough.

“Mommy, please” Grace was whispering, over and over again. Tears streamed down Grace’s ashen face, pooling on the collar of her uniform. She was facing him as he entered the cramped living space, but she did not fully register his arrival, did not realise that he was familiar.

Slowly, so very slowly he approached. He reached out a hand, gently laying it on the back of her mother’s cheek. She was ice cold. She had been gone for hours. An irrational wave of anger crashed into him at the actions of the selfish, reckless woman.

She had done this to herself, here, knowing that if anything happened… knowing who would discover her. As he looked down at Grace again the heat of his fury quickly died in his veins. So broken. She looked so broken.

Azriel sat beside her on the floor, knowing that nothing he could do or say would ease this pain. He sat beside her for hours as she wept, the only thing he could think to do was be there so she wasn’t alone.

When Grace sprang to her feet all of a sudden four hours later and darted to the bathroom, Azriel searched the darkened room for the threat that had dragged her from her grief, it wasn’t until he heard her vomiting that he understood. He entered behind her, her delicate form was arched over the toilet, he grabbed her hair and held it out of her face as she emptied out the contents of her stomach.

He let her take as long as she needed. When the vomiting eased and all that could be heard was her ragged breathing, he left the bathroom to place a blanket over her mother’s lifeless form and to search the cupboards, grabbing her a glass and filling it with water. He trembled slightly as he handed it to her and she looked up at him through puffy eyes.

“We need to call someone Grace,” Azriel murmured. She took the image of him in, his large frame seemed too big in the bathroom doorway, his midnight black wings pressed tightly to his body so he could just about fit.

He was very beautiful, despite the marks that seemed to cover every inch of his skin. His eyes were the colour of the sea, deep and rich and they were filled with concern.

As she considered his statement, she desperately tried to stop her face from crumpling and clung to her composure.

“I don’t have anyone to call,” she whispered, her voice cracking on the last word. She blinked rapidly, trying to fight back her emotions, trying not to think about her Mom in the other room.

He thought for a long moment. Trying to piece together what humans did when things like this happened. He was never around for this part, he had never cared enough.

“Call the authorities, tell them what’s happened and they’ll send someone,” his words were measured and careful, he didn’t want to say something that made things worse. Handing her the phone he said “I’ll wait with you until they arrive, but when they get here…” he flared his wings so she would understand.

He couldn’t be discovered.

She nodded and made the call. When the woman on the other end of the phone asked what the emergency was, Grace collapsed in on herself. Her body shook with sobs and she barely managed to tell them where to send help.

When the phone disconnected Azriel picked her up, holding her close to him he walked in the opposite direction to where her Mom was and sat down on the floor in one of the bedrooms, cradling her against his chest as she bawled. Her salty tears soaked his navy shirt.

“I’ve got you” he murmured into her hair, over and over again as he rocked her gently. “I’ve got you”.

It took them twenty minutes to arrive. He heard the tires on gravel outside. Grace had cried herself to sleep in his arms as he’d rocked her like a baby. So very carefully, he lifted her, placing her on the bed. She didn’t stir.

He’d left the front door open hours ago, so the officers could just let themselves in. Lifting the window open on the other side of the room, Azriel slipped outside and watched as they found her.

She was safe now, he told himself before taking off and flying as far away as he possibly could. She was safe.

KEEP AN EYE OUT FOR CHAPTER THREE!