My eyes drifted up to the hooded killer, who was eerily still. He faced his victim, fists clenched at his sides, his packed chest rhythmically rising and falling under the sweatshirt that clung to his heavily muscled torso.

He was close to me. So close that I could feel the heat radiating in waves from his body. My breathing was labored and I wanted to get the hell out of here. But I couldn’t move, caught in hypnotic rapture as I stared at the strange man who loomed menacingly before me.

He took a step forward, my body bracing for attack, then he took another step closer. My back hit the wall as I drew back in fear, and the hooded man took one final step until he was almost flush against my chest.

My eyes were wide as I stared at his dark form and my breath came slow at the close proximity. The hooded man never moved, just stood still before me like a statue.

He was huge; wide and tall. Only the bottom half of his face was in view—his full lips, his stubbled strong jaw… the bare top of his wide chest, demonic-looking tattoos covering his beautifully defined high pecs.

His head tilted up and more of his face hove into view. My heart began to pound harder as I waited to see his face, but the material from his hood hung low, shielding his eyes.

I watched as the man’s teeth ran over his bottom lip. Mustering a modicum of bravery and clearly defying all of Alik’s rules, I cautiously edged forward and blurted, “You… you saved me.”

My hands were shaking, my legs and voice, weak, and as dangerous as this man seemed, his body too tense and rigid, my fear waned. It seemed, as we stood here toe to toe, he wanted to study me, be closer to me.

The hooded man’s jaw tightened and his head tilted to the side, as if contemplating what I’d said. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, his aura animalistic, feral, yet it somehow… wasn’t. I couldn’t explain it.

As I drew slowly closer, his scent drifted on the warm wind. It was intoxicating, meadow fresh, like he’d been outdoors for months, like the scent of the first snowfall settling on the cold grass in Central Park. It cut through the stench of the dirty alley like a knife through butter, sending shivers down my spine.

“Do… do you have a name?” I asked, my voice gaining some strength.

The hooded man’s built frame suddenly straightened, like a jolt of electricity had just ripped through his body. For the first time I heard his heavy breathing in the quiet alley. He was breathless, sucking in air like he’d taken a hit to the chest. He was breathless at my question.

He took a step back, then another, and another until he moved beside the attacker on the ground. I edged forward, drawing his attention, but he never lifted his hood.

His head was always downcast. He wouldn’t show his eyes.

The hooded man bent and flipped my attacker’s corpse with his foot. He kicked the body into a dark corner of the alley like he was kicking away an empty beer can. Then he started to back away.

My heart sank and I pushed out my hand, signaling him to stop. “No! Please, I just want to thank you for saving me. That man… I think he was going to kill me. You saved my life…”

But my words had no effect. The hooded man backed off, his fists clenched once more. Then he sprinted away down the opposite side of the alley.

“Wait!” I shrilled, but all I could see was his dark garb disappearing into the shadows.

A cold hand suddenly gripped mine. I screamed out in shock, spinning around to see Talia, her face pale and her brown eyes wide.

“Kisa… what the hell just happened?” she whispered, her voice urgent.

Then the shock of the attack I’d resisted, delayed with staring at the hooded man, instantly surged through my body and tears dripped from my eyes.

“I… I was attacked…” I cried and Talia wrapped me in her arms.

“Shit! Who was that man running away?”

“I don’t know. But he saved my life.” I pulled back and looked at Kisa. “He k-killed that man to save my life.”

“Shit!” Talia hissed again. “I’ll call one of papa’s men to dispose of the body.”

That stopped my tears. “They can’t tell my papa or Alik. They’ll go insane if they knew I’d broken away from the group to go on my own.”

Talia stared at me like I was crazy, but reluctantly nodded her head. “It’s okay. I know someone who’ll keep this quiet. I won’t tell them you had anything to do with it.”

“Thank you,” I said in relief.

Talia stroked my messed up hair. “Can you walk? Are you okay?”

“Just shaken up,” I replied. “I’ll be fine, Tal. I just don’t want papa or Alik to know about it.”

Within seconds, Talia was pulling me down the alley and away from the kill scene.

Casting one final glance in the direction the man had sped off, I let Talia lead me back to the truck, all thoughts of the murdered man on the alley floor out of mind.

Father Kruschev watched me approach, quietly shaking his head in reprimand.

Stepping onto the truck, the waiting volunteers clearly pissed at my tardiness, I slumped into a vacant window seat, my forehead hitting the hot glass.

Talia sat beside me and gripped my hand in silent support, but I kept staring out of the window as the truck slowly rolled into the road.

My attention fell lazily upon the rows and rows of homeless men and women hunkering down in their makeshift shelters for the night. I shuddered at the thought of what just happened, the gravity of the attack, of the kill starting to hit home.