Page 17 of Kadra: The Unfeeling

Smile.

But I do because of him.

Azariel.

A strong name for a strong boy.

The perfect name for an heir.

Mine.

“Very well, Azariel. Hop on,” I offer him my gloved hand and when he narrows his eyes staring at it as if he doesn’t trust it, I smile wider. Smart boy. “I know you’re angry.” The smile on my face falls. “I also know you want to make them pay for what they did.” Azariel’s eyes flash with something that looks a lot like anger and resent me. “If you help me, I promise, you’ll see each and every single one of them bleed,” I vow. I don’t make promises. I find them useless and fickle but this time I do. I promise this tiny boy their blood.

Oh, they all will bleed.

“Who are you?” Azariel asks, still looking at my gloved hand.

I grin.

Who am I?

I am a lot of things, yes, but none I will explain to him right now.

All he needs to know is that I want the same thing as him.

So, I give him the answer he needs to hear. The only one that matters. “I am the only chance you have at survival, kid. Take it.”

He tentatively rises from the wet ground and I don’t miss how he hisses when he makes a wrong move. He’s in pain.

He needs help quickly. The little voice points out in sympathy but I push it back.

I need to get him out of view before I’m found out. Before we both are.

After a long moment, he takes a step forward and looks up at me. Time seems to stand still again and I don’t like it. No one bit. Perhaps this is a mistake. But then his much smaller hand touches my gloved one and a feeling of awareness courses through me.

As if I’ve met this kid before.

But that’s impossible.

The first time I laid eyes on him it was through my phone– a photo that was sent to me by my right-hand man.

The strange and unwelcome feeling lingers but I ignore it, though, just like I ignore every attempt of humanity trying to sweep its way to my soul.

“I don’t trust you.” The boy, Azariel, shouts over the sound of the rain.

My top lip twitches at his honesty. It’s admirable. “You’ll learn to. Now, let’s go.” Once we reach my bike, I help him on and climb behind him, making sure he is safely secure between my front and the bike. “Hold on tight, Azariel.” This is going to be one hell of a bumpy ride.

When I am certain he won’t fall off, I rev the engine and take off.

I’m a long way from where he will be the safest.

Five minutes into the drive, I noticed another bike speeding up trying to catch up to us. Then a van with black tinted windows rolls up behind the mysterious biker.

Shit.

They know.

They’re too late, though.

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