Silver Flash - Hand of Death 3

Greetings Loved Ones!

It's time for another weekly Silver Flash! This week, I'm continuing my vampire/angel story, Hand of Death. I really think I'm going to like Aaron and Bastien. The whole naughty/nice innocent/corrupt vibe is such a wicked pleasure I can't give it up. I hope you enjoy it too.

Hand of Death 3


“I understand now. You don’t know the laws of the Choir of angels.” Sebastian goes on as if he hasn’t heard me, but he places his feet on the pegs anyway. I sit in front of him and start the engine, drowning out any further conversation. I don’t care about the laws of the Choir. Sebastian’s a victim and any ruling body that can’t acknowledge the victimization of one of their own who’s been browbeaten into submission and forced to perform acts against his will—well, they don’t merit my allegiance. I’m the Hand of Death. I decide when death is deserved, and this is not one of those times.

His hands wrap around me; he clutches me tightly as we begin our ride. Despite the fact that I’ve secured lodgings in an older but clean motel nearby, and the ride takes little or no time, Sebastian falls asleep on the back of the bike. With one hand I hold his clasped hands together upon my chest. I feel his head loll slightly, back and forth, against my back, between my shoulder blades. I have to work to keep the ride smooth, and prevent my charge from taking a nasty fall.

Despite myself, I consider that maybe I’m making a mistake here by not killing him. He obviously thinks he should die. Who am I to second guess a ruling body of his peers? I pull into the parking lot of the motel and park the bike, carefully grabbing hold of the man as the bike settles onto the kickstand. I get off and draw Sebastian more securely into my arms. No, I’m not making a mistake. Victims don’t deserve to die, regardless of how they see themselves.

I carry him to the door. Holding him clutched in one arm, I swipe the keycard in the door with the other, giving the door a push when the light turns green. It strikes me again how little he weighs. How good he smells. How completely he fits in my arms, and yet he’s an angel; perfection’s what they strive for. In the physical form, there can be a no more flawless a specimen on the face of the earth. His hair a deep brown, lush with sunkissed blond ends. His eyes are closed as if in prayer, but when open—they’re a beautiful soft moss green. He’s small; five foot five or six at the most. Yet his body shows what once was strong lean muscle, and will be again, if I have anything to say about it.

I lay him on one of the beds and close the door behind me, latching it before I return to sit by him. I pick up one of his hands and carefully examined the silver manacles on each of his wrists. They have to come off. They’re inscribed with magic symbols, and will eventually draw others to us. Being silver, I can’t touch them directly, but with my leather riding gloves on, there’s no hazard.

Sebastian’s skin is raw beneath the cuffs. They were designed to be uncomfortable, as well as to keep their charge under control. I go to my bags and draw out a camera, snapping pictures of the inscriptions on the shackles as well as Sebastian’s state: undernourished, dirty, and unconscious. There’s no doubt he was their prisoner.

Having taken pictures for the record, I pull the bolt cutters from among my tools, and cut them from Sebastian’s wrists as carefully as I can. I don’t want to harm him further, but they clearly have to go. The symbols flash in the silver, sparking under the blade of the bolt cutters, as the final snip breaks the ring and they disintegrate into silver dust. Holding my breath, I gather the dust, sealing it in a ziplock bag before disposing of it in the trash can outside the room. The magic dissipated and the silver disposed of, we should be safe for a little while.

Still Sebastian sleeps. I cover him with a blanket and pickup my cell phone. I don’t want to disrupt his rest, so I step outside the room to call my superiors. If an error’s been made, they need to know about it and dispatch a rescue team to deal with Sebastian, and begin his recovery.

“Madeline, sweetheart, how’s it hanging?” I greeted Maddie. The succubus who runs our dispatch department.

“Snake, you viper. Another job done. That was quick, but I suppose one wizard’s hardly a challenge for the likes of you.”

“About that, Maddie, I need to talk to Sanders. Something’s seriously wrong with this one. The intel was completely wrong. The mark’s one of the fallen. An innocent.”

“I’m sorry, dollface, Sander’s isn’t here. The council’s in session and has been for two days. Nobody in or out until they’re finished. It’ll be another week and a half before the doors are opened.”

“Well, how’d I get this assignment then, Maddie? Nobody’s supposed to be dispatched on a kill while the council sits.” It’s all I can do to keep from snarling at her. I know it’s not her fault, but this is completely outside of regular protocol.

“I don’t know what to tell you, hon. Sanders gave me orders to dispatch you just before he entered chambers. I can’t do anything further until they come back out.”

“What do you mean, nothing further?”

“I can’t send you any backup, no cleanup crews, no recon, no rescue teams… I got nothing until those chamber doors reopen. Honey, you’re on your own. So take care of yourself and keep your head down. If you think this angel’s been wrongly accused, then baby, you have to keep him alive.”

“Son of a bitch!”

****

More Silver Flashers

Lindsay Klug   (m/f)

West Thornhill    (m/m)

Lily Sawyer     (m/m)

AJ Jarrett    (m/m)      FLASH VIRGIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Heather Lin   (m/f)

Julie Lynn Hayes    (m/m)

Silver Flash - Hand of Death 2

Greetings Loved Ones!

It's time for the weekly Silver Flash! I've been so intrigued by my vampire Aaron that I've continued his story this week, so we have another chapter in the Hand of Death. I must admit I'm very caught up in the dark and light contrast of a vampire falling for an angel. I realize this isn't a new concept, but it is one that continues to draw my attention. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

Wishing you Love and Butterflies,
Sui Lynn~~

****

Hand of Death 2 - 11/23/11

A thing of beauty is a joy forever and the voice of an angel in song is so far beyond beautiful and enchanting, there aren’t words. I’d been told about the voice of the angels, but never having met one, I couldn’t imagine it’s power. An angel’s song attracts any being with a soul to its side. The more pure the soul the greater the attraction, but I’d never thought his song could be so captivating as to touch and hold a corrupt soul as dark as my own.

I move like the killing machine I am. Before his song’s over, I’ve killed the two guards who stand outside the SUV and I’m creeping up on the driver, who still sits behind the wheel. I chance a glance at him as he begins a second song. He’s sitting in the grass, a sad, serene smile on his face. His wings shudder as the children begin to gather around him. That’s when it strikes me. The way his hands twitch spastically. His movements, which for an angel should’ve been smooth and graceful, are halting. Something’s dreadfully wrong with the man.

I knock on the driver’s window and the idiot opens the door and makes like he’s gonna step out. He’s dead before his foot touches the ground.

“Hey Jerr—” His passenger begins, but I cut him off in mid-sentence, slicing his throat. I pile the bodies back in the vehicle. The windows are dark. It’s too bad I have to leave it here; the dead will probably be discovered by some curious kid, but I need to get the angel out of here. Now.

I stand beside the vehicle, making sure there’s no blood on my clothing. He’d smell it of course, but there’s no sense in scaring the kids. I sheathe my gladius and head across the grass, plastering a smile on my face that I hope won’t  scare the kids too much. I have to get him out of here before Sebastian’s keepers realize their angel’s gone. I don’t know who the real evil is behind this farce, but I know enough to know that this guy’s the scapegoat, as well as the bait, and he’s as much a victim as the kids being led to the slaughter.

“Sebastian, time to go.” I say when I reach his side.

“Aww. Can’t you stay for one more song? I’ve never seen an angel before.” One little girl gazes at Sebastian with big brown doe eyes. I sincerely hope she won’t be the one to discover the dead bodies in the SUV.

Sebastian stares at me, a frown crossing his face as he looks first to me and then to the vehicle. The scent of fresh blood must be coming off of me in waves. “Ah—no kids. I’m sorry. I have to leave now. Go… be good...” he stammers. I hold out my hand and he takes it. I draw him to his feet.

I can smell more blood. Not the vile thick blood of those I’ve just killed, but a sweet nectar that’s seeping from the abused flesh of his bare feet. Angels don’t normally walk. They hover above the ground, the power of magic in their wings keeping them afloat. The soles of the soft ravaged skin, torn and pierced, seep ambrosia of the highest quality into the ground. I sweep him into my arms and carry him from the park faster than any man can see.

He’s slight, more the weight of a human man—an unhealthy human man, but still heavier than a pureblooded angel. His wings have disappeared; one of the children of the fallen then. Only the fallen have the power to hide their wings. True members of the heavenly host can’t hide what they are. His wings clipped like a common caged bird, his magic along with them. He sighs and rests his head against his chest.

“Where are the guards?”

“They won’t bother you anymore. I’ve taken care of them.”

“You’ve killed them?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll pray for their souls.” Sebastian bows his head against my chest, whispering his prayers as we approach my ride. A red, sleek four-cylinder Dakota Indian motorcycle. I ignore what he said. I’ve no understanding of a creature that would pray for the souls of his tormentors. Death I understand. “You’re here to kill me.” It isn’t a question.

“No. Not you. There’s a mistake.” I sit him gently on the pinion seat. “Have you ever ridden a motorcycle before?”

“Why would you think there’s a mistake? Because of what I am? I’m guilty. As guilty as the guards you killed without remorse for their participation in this vile escapade. The evil rests on my soul, despite what I am. I’m no longer pure, just sweet enough to attract the innocent.” Sebastian stares at the ground at my feet, as if waiting for the blow.

“I don’t care what you are. Those coerced into doing evil are no more responsible than the victims themselves. A mistake has been made.” Sebastian will be cold, riding on the motorcycle. He wears only a pair of jeans. No shirt covers his magnificent golden chest. Cold doesn’t bother me. Being a vampire, my kind don’t suffer much from the bite of weather. I strip the duster from around my body and put it on him, securing the buttons across his chest.

I flip down the pegs on either side of the cycle for him to place his feet. “Keep your feet on those,” I instruct him. “The exhaust gets hot, so be aware what you’re doing. You’ll need to hold on to me around the waist, tightly, and lean with me on the corners, even if it feels like we’re about to tip. Be mindful of my movements and don’t fight against the pull.”

****

Other Silver Flashers:

Lily Sawyer   

Lindsay Klug 

West Thornhill  

Elyzabeth VaLey  

Pender Mackie 

Freddie MacKay  

Julie Hayes 

Silver Flash - Hand of Death 1

Greetings Loved Ones, 

Time for this weeks Silver Flash! For those of you who follow Foxe and Hund, never fear my luscious cops will be back again. But this week I'm beginning a new story entitled The Hand of Death. This is a m/m paranormal romance, in quite a different universe. 


For a while now I've had a vampire whispering in my ear and so begins Aaron's story. I hope you'll enjoy it.


Wishing you Love and Butterflies
Sui lynn~~

****

Hand of Death 1 - 11/16/11


Aaron

I’ve been sitting up here in this damn tree for hours and although June is busting out all over, the heavy cloud cover is the only thing allowing it. I must say that this really isn’t any hardship. It’s a rarity when I can be outside during the daylight hours and not fear for my life. There are very few things I’m naturally afraid of, and the sun is one of them; something that’ll undoubtedly chase after me for all of my remaining days. I’m a vampire and that lethal star is both abhorred and revered by my kin.

Who am I? You may well ask. I’ve been many things in my time, but suffice it to say I’m a predator, an animal. I’m everything your mother ever told you to be afraid of in the dark. I’m a cold blooded killer. Quite literally. Since my body doesn’t create its own blood, my body temperature is lower than most. Not that you’d want to get close enough to check. Those that do are usually at death’s door—at my hand.

Killer—yes, without a doubt. I don’t harbor mercy. I don’t succumb to begging. If you’re before me and if you’re in my hands, your death is assured.

Assassin—yes. It’s my job. I’m one of ten. Each of us a different race. Trained to remove the worst of the worst from society. No questions asked. No hesitation. No thought. I am one of the Hands of Death. They call me Snake. It may not be what my mother named me, but these days I don’t think of my mother much.

So I’m enjoying the morning in a way I rarely have the opportunity to do. The sky’s heavily overcast, threatening rain, but it’s yet to be unleashed upon the populace. Today’s target is Sebastian Fallon—he’s a human with a little fae blood in him. He’s believed to be a wizard. They say he’s been kidnapping children and virgins and sacrificing them at the edge of the forest, outside the city. He’s been attempting to draw the unicorns from within out into the open where he can kill them for their horns and body parts. So far he’s destroyed seven of the majestic creatures.

Most families in the area have been warned, but this is the city and children are the weak and helpless. They’re the easiest prey to take down, especially amongst the unwanted and the poor. The parents know there’s a serial killer who’s after their children on the loose, but it’s just another day in someone else’s life. Humans are practically herd beasts in their capacity to look the other way. Most don’t even realize the world is full to the brim with the paranormal around them running amok, yet they see nothing.

A car pulls into the park. I’m here just to do a bit of recon. If he sticks to his schedule, he’ll be in the park picking up ‘tweens and then staking them as sacrifices at the edge of the forest in two days’ time. I need to see his operation so I can take care of him and possibly give the cleanup crew the whereabouts of his stash of kids for rescue. I don’t do rescue. I kill. I’m not soft and squishy enough for rescue… I bite.

The black SUV pulls up to the edge of the curb and I watch as two men in business suits and sunglasses climb out of the cab. Sunglasses—on a day like today? Even I’m not wearing sunglasses and I’m a fuckin’ vampire for God’s sake. What the fuck?

They drag a young man from the back seat—I recognize my target immediately. They untie his hands, but he’s wearing silver bracelets which I know will inhibit him from using his full powers. Even from the photo of the target, I knew he’d be beautiful. Maybe it’s the fae blood… maybe not. But to say a more stunning man has ever been born would be a lie.

“Please, Nathan. Not again. I don’t want to.”

“You know what the boss said, Bastian. Nothing’s changed. Do your job and I’ll take you back to your rooms.”

“But Nathan, they’re babies. I can’t keep doing this.”

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Is my target pleading not to do the deeds he’s been accused of? Mine not to question why. I’m just supposed to kill and not think. But…

That’s when I see the resigned look on the man’s face, his sad eyes surveying the playground, as a tear slides down his cheek.

“Get out there and just do it already. Then I’ll take care of you.” The man on the left—Mr. Sunglasses—laughs,  then gives the man a push toward the children. He pauses and looks back, which is when I see something I’d never thought to see in this lifetime. As the man trembles, white wings appeared at his back. Oh fuck! It isn’t fae blood flowing through this man’s veins, it’s angel. I can’t believe what I’m seeing. His wings have been clipped so severely there’s no way the man can even hover, yet it does nothing to detract from the beauty of what he appears to be.


This is clearly a mistake. Someone has done fucked up big time. This man needs rescuing as much as the kids do. As an angel, he’s the perfect innocence magnet. Children would flock to him without hesitation, and he’d be forced to lead them to their death. This can’t be happening. I watch in disbelief as he walks barefoot into the center of the park and begins to sing. It’s like watching the most beautiful of moments colliding with the worst clusterfuck of a train wreck I’d ever imagined. I move as only one of my kind can. I hover behind the SUV, the sound of his voice freezing me in my tracks. A more beautiful sound I’ve never heard in my life.

Silver Flashers
Julie Lynn Hayes    (m/m)

West Thornhill   (m/m)