The Guardian

Chapter 5

The only office on the entire first floor was tucked into a corner, all but hidden by shadows, amping the creep factor up to a hundred. The gloom was thick enough to cut, in spite of the sunny day outside. Squaring my shoulders and resettling my feathery burdens, i strode - silently - to the office door, where one light cut through the gloom, making a halo of light on the desk, bare of all papers save one. The instructions the ransom note promised. Everything in me screamed trap.

I turned around, and almost knocked myself to my ass as i ran smack into someone's chest. A rough hand grabbed me by the throat and pushed me backwards into the office, slamming me down on the desk. I had a second to notice the other hand, armed with a knife, coming for my chest, before my body took over for me. My legs kicked out and connected to the knee, whilst my wings broke the chokehold on me. I was on my feet in two seconds more, my foot shooting out and connecting the man's chest, causing him to slam against the wall. He slumped there, weakly cussing and groaning. Ten seconds had passed. Ten seconds and i had a man groaning against the far wall, cussing and calling me every nasty thing in the book. Shock had me wobbling a bit, but i finally remembered the note and scooped it off the desk.

Your daughter is safe within this building. Die with the knowledge that she will live, but not, i think, happily ever after. I so look forward to the money she will bring me.

Rest in peace

I crumpled the note up, and flung it as far away from me as i could, as though it was a poisonous snake or repulsive bug. I whirled around, bearing down on the heap against the far wall, who was now looking at me with fear in his eyes. A wingtip found its way to his throat, coated now in deadly gold. I don't know what he saw in my face, but it must've been terrible to behold. He whimpered and shut his eyes, face screwed up in abject terror.

"Where is she?"

Fury laced my voice, the words coming from behind clenched teeth promising both terrible pain and sweet release. It was angelic- and terrifying.

The pathetic heap at my feet whimpered, fear robbing him of his voice. He pointed down, towards the basement, and i was gone. Despite my anger, and the loathing i felt towards that human cockroach, I wasn't there to kill him. That judgement was not mine to give. I was there to rescue the girl, so i got on with that.

The steps down to the basement was well lit, for a change, and i silently ran, almost flew, down them, the guards at the bottom not knowing what hit them.

In a tornado of feathers and fists, i cleared the basement, fury and loathing lending me strength and speed. It ended with me, standing alone, in a basement with five unconscious bodies littering the floor, and a mostly unconscious girl chained to a pipe against the far wall.

Her pretty auburn hair had been hacked off where it met the braid, and her huge green eyes was vacant with a mixture of fear and drugs. I smelled no poison, save the roofies they gave her to keep her quiet. She seemed about my age, her petite frame lending her an air of vulnerable fragility.

Scooping her up, i snapped the handcuffs holding her to the wall with laughable ease, and made my way outside, quickly. The air was still heavy with malignant malice, and i wanted fresh air. The front door was easy to spot, and easier to get to. No traps awaited me, and i felt like an idiot. I could've saved myself the trouble and bruises, but no, i had to be dramatic.

Laughing quietly to myself, i shifted the slight girl in my arms, and opened my wings, praying that i didn't drop her in the process. Thankfully, it was dusk, and no one would spot me flying recklessly over the city. I took a running start, trying not to jostle the now unconscious girl too much, and launched myself into the air, almost giving myself whiplash at the effort. Thankfully, though, my wings caught me and I was airborne. It probably looked more graceful than it felt.