Last Light by K.R. Conway

Author:K.R. Conway [Conway, K.R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-9973737-3-8
Publisher: K.R. Conway

22

Chapter 20 - Raef

Faust, New Bedford, MA Sunday, Half-past Midnight

I pushed my way through the exterior doors of Faust, walking down a long narrow hallway that would lead us to the night club’s main floor, Kian at my side.

Several heavily armed Mortis guards gave us a nod as we made our way through the metal-walled corridor, none of it looking like the elaborate interior of the nightclub that resided inside. Though we didn’t want to leave the girls, the other Mortis in the club had assured us that hunting would be brief since Fall River targets tended to be predictable and easy to find. And quite frankly, Kian and I had been running dangerously low on stolen life essence and that was before we healed Nikki. But after her surgery, hunting became critical for us. We had to go, and we both knew it.

Thankfully, our time away from Faust had been brief and everything seemed fine at the nightclub upon our return.

We’d spent an hour and a half hunting with Leo, our Blacklist targets easy to locate and feed from as promised. Though Leo didn’t want to leave Maia’s side, Baz had kicked him out, demanding he feed or be the “weakest link.” That had pissed Leo off enough to go hunting with us and then bolt for Maia’s room the instant we got back. I was certain that Moriarty was romantically involved with Faust’s fierce bouncer, probably for years.

The night, however, wasn’t entirely a normal hunt, for we had noticed a homeless man. He was curled near the heat vent from an apartment building, clearly in the late stages of what appeared to be sclerosis of the liver - death by alcohol, basically. His remainder of his life had been whittled down to mere hours.

He was suffering. We all knew it.

Kian, taking mercy on the dying man, had knelt beside him and asked him if he wished to go - to be released from this world.

At the end stages of his life, the man seemed to understand we were some sort of courier for Death. He had smiled, said he was ready, and Kian let the Fallen Marks flare to life on his skin, not bothering to hide them. The man actually looked relieved despite Kian’s sudden change in appearance. It was as if he knew that peace was only moments away. Kian placed his hands on the man’s, easing his pain while softly calling the life from his abused body.

There was no funeral or mourners, save for us. We became the final witnesses to a life lived on the fringe, sleeping under bridges and begging in shadows; a soul discarded and unimportant in the eyes of proper society.

When death had claimed the man, we closed his eyes and wrapped him in his faded plaid blanket, carrying his body to the front of the alley so someone would find him. He was yet another anonymous soul, lost to the city and forgotten.

While I’d taken the lives of those suffering on the battlefields of war, something about the man’s death seemed to haunt Kian.

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