Page 6 of Azrael

The alley mouth loomed dark between two abandoned storefronts, a black slash in the neon-tinted night.I killed the engine and dismounted in one fluid motion, my boots splashing into a puddle that soaked my jeans to mid-calf.The cold barely registered.My hand automatically went to the knife at my hip as I moved forward, staying close to the brick wall where shadows offered cover.

Another scream, choked off this time, followed by male laughter and the sound of something -- or someone -- hitting the ground hard.

I rounded a dumpster, and the scene unfolded before me: three men surrounding a woman who’d been forced to her knees, her clothes torn at the shoulder.Broken glass crunched under their boots, reflecting the distant streetlight in wicked little sparkles.One man held her hair in his fist, yanking her head back at an unnatural angle.Another had his hand over her mouth.The third was unbuckling his belt.

The woman’s gaze found mine through the darkness -- blue eyes, startlingly bright against her darker skin.They weren’t filled with fear but with fury, a rage so pure it nearly matched my own.Only one choice I could make.

“Evening, gentlemen,” I said, stepping into the alley fully now.“Seems like the lady isn’t interested in your company.”

The men turned, the one with his hand on his belt pausing mid-motion.

“Fuck off,” the largest one snarled, his face half-hidden beneath a scrappy beard.“Mind your own business.”

I smiled, knowing it was the type that would send a chill down their spines.At least, if they were smart.“This is my business.Everything that happens in this neighborhood, in this fucking town, is my business.”

The dim light caught my cut, and I watched recognition dawn on their faces.The smart ones would have backed off then.None of them were smart.

“There’s three of us and one of you,” said the one holding the woman’s hair.Seemed to be a common theme these days.Why did assholes like these think that would make me give a shit and back down?“And we’re just having a little fun.No harm in that.”

“No harm,” I repeated, taking a step closer.“We’ll see about that.”

The first one rushed me -- drunk, clumsy, confident in his size.I sidestepped, letting his momentum carry him past me before driving my elbow into the base of his skull.He stumbled forward, his feet sliding on the wet concrete before he face-planted into the wall.The crunch of cartilage told me his nose wouldn’t be the same again.

The second attacker was warier, circling as his friend groaned and slid down the bricks.He pulled a switchblade, the metal catching the light filtering into the alley.

“You’re gonna regret this,” he promised, flicking the blade open with practiced ease.

“I doubt it,” I replied.

He lunged, slashing wildly.I caught his wrist, twisting until I heard thepopof tendons and his knife clattered to the ground.His scream was high and thin as I drove my blade into the meat of his upper arm, not deep enough to kill, just enough to make sure he remembered this night every time the weather changed.

The third man, the one who’d been holding the woman’s hair, shoved her aside and backed away, hands raised.“Hey, man, we didn’t know she was with someone.We’re just --”

My boot connected with his groin before he could finish the sentence.As he doubled over, I grabbed the back of his head and brought my knee up to meet his descending face.The impact sent vibrations up my leg, and he collapsed into a heap of limbs and whimpers, blood gushing from his nose.

Three down, none of them moving to get up.Pathetic little fuckers.The only sounds now were the rain, their pained breathing, and the distant wail of a siren that had nothing to do with us.

I turned to the woman, who had pushed herself to her feet, leaning against the dumpster for support.Her breathing was ragged, but her eyes were clear and focused.Blood trickled from her hairline where one of them must have struck her, mingling with the rain on her face.Her dark hair clung to her cheeks and neck, and despite her torn clothing, she stood with a dignity that seemed out of place in this filthy alley.

“You okay?”I asked, wiping my blade on my jeans before putting it away.

“I am now,” she said, her voice steadier than I expected.She wasn’t from around here -- not with that hint of an accent I couldn’t quite place.

I approached her slowly, holding my hands where she could see them.“Need a hospital?”

She shook her head, wincing slightly at the movement.“No hospitals.No police.”

That was something we could agree on.I glanced back at the men on the ground.None of them were dead, though the one with the knife wound was bleeding heavily, clutching his arm and cursing.They wouldn’t be bothering anyone else tonight.

“Got somewhere to go?”I asked.

She straightened up, pushing wet hair from her face.“I found exactly where I need to be.”

That wasn’t the answer I expected.I narrowed my eyes, suddenly wary.Random women in alleys weren’t usually looking to find people like me unless they were working for someone else.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She took a step closer, and I noticed she was smaller than she first appeared, barely reaching my shoulders.Her clothes -- what was left of them -- were expensive, not the kind you usually saw in this neighborhood.

---