Draven Hawke

CHAPTER SEVEN

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After they shopped, they headed home. As they walked together, an idea formed and Draven smiled to himself, pleased. "Would you like to feed some of the children you mentioned earlier?"

"Really?" Autumns face lit up as if she were the one who was going to receive gifts. In her mind, it was the best thing somebody could offer. Draven nodded once, and Autumn jumped up, wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek. He stood frozen, not knowing how to accept the affection. He only knew that he was glad to make her happy.

They bought fresh fruits, vegetables, and anything else that would be easy to eat without kitchen utensils. By the time they left the store, their cart was overflowing with groceries.

"We will have to take the cart with us," Draven said. He could have carried it all, but he would have drawn attention.

"They will be so happy." Autumn beamed. "You can't even imagine how excited they'll be."

Autumn was right, of course. As the homeless people saw them approaching with bags of food, Draven could see their expressions lift. The adults were more restrained, but the children came running to them, eager, and unable to contain their excitement.

"Okay, everyone," Autumn instructed, "form a line, children first, then woman, and then men. There's enough for everyone, so don't start any trouble."

The children raced forward, reaching out with their little, blackened hands.

Draven noticed a woman behind a young boy, she was crying.  As he stared at her, trying to decipher her reaction, she mouthed the words, 'thank you'. Then he looked down at Autumn, who was kneeling on the ground, passing the food out, and smiling. He was not positive, but he thought it looked like she was holding back tears. The moment was almost perfection. It could have been, but that was the moment Draven felt his crystal pulsing to life.

He could feel the momentum. At that moment, the dark thoughts of the man lying at the back end of the alley came into focus. Draven knew that he had to get away from the crowd. He was going to transform,whether he intended to kill the man or not. Except, he did intend to kill the man. The unworthy flesh that took up room in the small space was the reason Draven had resented the homeless for so long.

Autumn was distracted, and Draven moved too fast. She did not realize he was even gone. She was too busy passing the food and playing with the children.

Draven put his hand over the man's mouth and pulled him around one corner after another until he knew that they were far away from the ear shot of the people. He lifted him without any effort. A power surged through him, stronger than ever before. There was something different, though; it was almost as if he could taste the old, bitter rage which used to hold him as a human.

"Murderer," Draven snarled, low, vicious, and velvety smooth. His lips curled over his teeth.  How could someone be so dark, yet so grand? His hair glowed white. His movements were pure grace. He stared into the filthy man's eyes, seeing the one that had taken his wife so many years before. The man mumbled incoherent, unable to speak, reeking of alcohol and cigarettes.

Violent desire vibrated through Draven as images of the man's acts played in his consciousness. The man hurt women and children alike. To him, it was a minor detail. As the last image came to a halt in Draven's mind, his fist pushed through the man's chest, twisting his heart, snapping the vessels that pumped his blood. As he twisted, he let out a soft moan and crumpled to the ground, too weak to stay standing.

"Draven," Autumn cried, her hand over her mouth. She took in the scene, and another gasp escaped her lips as she noted the blood dripping down Draven's arm. It was splattered across his jacket and streaked down his tailored pants. She'd seen him in action before, but not like this.