Angel of Death: Book One of the Chosen Chronicles (10 page)

“I see that
rumour proves itself
true,” spat Fernando. With a flourish, his silver embroidered black cloak landed on broad muscular shoulders. “I’m starting to wonder if the other parts are true as well,” he sniffed.

Glowering down at the Noble, he bent down, retrieving the two daggers by their hilts. “I believe these are yours,” he stated impassively. Standing, he offered them, hilts first, careful not to touch the blades. He had to snatch his hands back lest they be cut as Fernando grabbed them, making them disappear beneath his cloak. Situation resolved, he turned and walked to the double doors. He had more important things to deal with than a Chosen with an oversized sense of himself.

“Wait,” he heard the Noble call.

“What do you want?” he replied without turning around. Any delay was time away from Notus and their freedom.

“It seems that we are in a similar situation.”

Slowly turning, he waited for the inevitable continuation. He did not like Fernando. He crossed his arms, face impassive as de Sagres continued unabated.

Fernando smiled. He could forgive the Angel for denying his pleasure. It had proved one point. The Angel was soft hearted for the mortals. Unfortunately, it did not explain why. That would have to come later if he could convince the Angel to work together. He loathed the idea, but it offered too many opportunities, and a greater chance of success.

“We both want what Katherine took from us, and to do that we have to do this chore for her. Personally, I do not like having to be made to do anything, but she’s got us by the jugular and I would like my things back. As I’m sure you would like your sire back. I do not like the idea of requiring assistance to get the job done, but I am neither a fool nor an idiot. This venture would have a greater chance for success if we teamed up. I do not wish to risk my possessions, nor my life for that matter. What do you say?”

He measured the Noble’s words and the man before him. He did not trust this one. He was too much the Vampire - relishing in pain and fear. Any semblances to what a Chosen should be were not found in de Sagres. He must be one of the younger ones. Recognizing the merit of the words, if not the motive, he replied, “Are you proposing a partnership with me?”

“Yes, damn it. Didn’t I just say that?” This was not the response Fernando was expecting. In one simple question the Angel had manoeuvred dominance of the conversation into his corner and Fernando did not like that one bit.

“Why?” he asked, dubious when it came to others wishing contact with him.

Fernando’s face puckered in anger. “I told you why. If you do not wish to work together to get Katherine for what she’s done to you that’s fine. I’d probably do better on my own than with one such as you.” He strode forcefully towards the door and abruptly halted when the Angel did not move. The Noble glared up into red eyes that momentarily flashed with pain before settling into burning anger. This time Fernando did not back down from the flaming eyes.

“I did not say I would not work with you.” The Angel’s voice was cold, hiding his anger.

“Get to the point.” Somewhere inside, Fernando smiled at his victorious return of control.

“If it will free Notus faster than it would be prudent to work together.”

“Are you now asking for my help?” This time Fernando did smile a sadistic lopsided grin.

“No,” he stated flatly.

“Ahh, I thought not, but no matter. The point is made. You and I will work together.” Fernando’s smile disappeared to be replaced with a look of great concentration and he walked to stand in the middle of the room. Turning abruptly to face his new, yet strange partner, he tapped a jewelled finger to his chin. “I don’t suppose you have any idea where to start?”

Realizing that he too had no clue where to begin, he frowned. He had nearly stumbled into the night almost expecting the answers to present themselves in a neat little package, and silently cursed himself for a fool.

Dark brown brows rose in wonderment. Fernando let his arm drop to his side. “Well?” Accustomed as he was to having a one-sided conversation, the Noble did not like it when answers to his questions went unspoken, and the Angel’s lack of communication was starting to become irritating.

He sighed; the condescension in the Noble’s voice did not go unnoticed and he returned it. “I do not suppose that you have any ideas.”

Loud boisterous laughter rang through the room, surprising him. He could not imagine what was so funny. Fernando confused him. In a short span of time he had witnessed his newest unwanted companion run a gambit of emotions that he, himself, never dreamed of displaying so openly.

“Don’t look so surprised, my pale friend.” Fernando wiped a tear from his eye, his laughter coming to a jittery halt. “I guess we both don’t have a clue. Shall we be like Holmes and Watson and search London for the man with the limp?” Boisterous laughter exploded again and was quickly suppressed at the incredulous look on the Angel’s face. “No, I didn’t think so.”

Fernando sobered, frowned and flung wide his arms, his cloak billowed behind. “This situation is ridiculous! Preposterous! Totally insane!” With a snap of cloth the cloak wrapped around Fernando and he strode towards the Angel and the door.

Completely bewildered, he stepped back away from the Noble.

Slamming open the door, Fernando stated icily, “She will not get away with this,” and glanced up at him. “Let’s go. We have some planning to attend to.”

In stunned silence, he followed de Sagres outdoors to stand between the guards. He kept his eyes on the Portuguese Chosen and felt as if he were on a chain, being jerked this way and that, and resented it. His frown deepened at the flicker of amusement that sparked Fernando’s brown eyes. Following the gaze, he discovered the reason for the shift in Fernando’s malleable façade, and clenched his jaw in rising anger.

Turning his head over his shoulder to look up at the Angel, Fernando smiled. “Something to wash away the bad taste of this evening?”

Before he could restrain his newly made partner, Fernando raced down the steps with preternatural speed towards the girl under the lamppost.

Muttering a curse that Notus would have been furious to hear, he quickly followed, hoping to catch up before Fernando caught Jeanie. He pulled up behind the Noble in time to hear him say; “Now here’s a tasty morsel if I’ve ever seen one.”

He closed the large oaken doors to the theatre behind him with a click, noticing with a frown the large depression and cracks in the wood and turned to face the lobby. The paintings flickered alive in the dancing candlelight. Gruesome images looked ready to spring from framed canvas, and indeed one seemed to jump right at him. It startled him and he leapt to correct its angle. His hand paused momentarily as he stared into the demons red eyes, and wished he could cross himself for protection from his very real imagination, but the painting hung no threat to his rational mind.

Turning from the painting, he noticed the doors to the outside had been left open. He would have to deal with those two simpletons most appropriately. Excellent guards they were, they still would not open or close the doors.

Maybe I will have to requisition a doorman,
he sighed and walked to close the doors.

Absently, he gazed up from the brass knob, his eyes falling upon the two Chosen standing across the street with the girl.

This would not do. Not do at all.

He watched the trio a moment longer and then slowly closed the doors.

J
eanie spun around, startled at the sudden sound of the unknown voice, to face a swarthy man who stood only a little taller than she. She had not heard his approach, or the Angel’s who stood beside this stranger.

Angry crimson eyes momentarily flashed from beneath his cowl and Jeanie felt an emptiness in her stomach that made her ill.

There was no choice in the matter; Fernando had to be dealt with. The Angel could not allow the Noble to let the secret he and Notus had hidden from Jeanie all these years to slip out. Then again how was Fernando to know that this girl was something more than prey?

The look on Jeanie’s face also did not pass his notice as he took it all in with cool anger. Granted he was slightly impressed that she was able to follow him for there was no other explanation for her presence, but it proved that he had to be more careful. It was too easy to become lax on survival skills learned long ago.

Before Fernando could make good on his threat, he stated coolly, “What are you doing here, Jeanie?”

“You know this whore?” asked Fernando, gazing up at the tall Chosen in surprise.

“I’m no’ a whore!” answered Jeanie, infuriated that she was accused of such twice in one night. Any feelings of dread flew from her to be replaced with the familiar Scots temper. She gazed harshly at the stranger wishing she could burn him with her eyes. Instead he rocked slowly on his heels, his brown eyes rose in mild amusement. The Angel was, as usual, unreadable.

“Yes, I know Jeanie,” he answered, “She’s the housekeeper.”

“Keeping her for a nice light snack?” Fernando replied, impressed with the Angel and with Notus for keeping such a beauty and then recoiled at the intensity of their combined glares. “What? I’m just sorry that I didn’t think of it first. A nice tasty morsel like her would quench any Va—”
  

His final word was abruptly cut off as he was slammed into the brick wall of the building next to the lamppost. The fine cloth of his cloak pressed against rough stone promised to tear. He had not seen the Angel move. He did not know one of their own could move
that
fast. Fernando had the supernatural speed of their kind, but what the Angel seemed to possess went beyond.

Recovering his shock, Fernando gazed into burning eyes as the Angel held him firmly in place by the lapels. Somewhere behind, the Noble heard the girl’s astonished cry. Bearing his sharpened teeth, Fernando smiled and tried unsuccessfully to grab his daggers sheathed at the small of his back. This indignation would not go unremembered.

Ignoring Jeanie’s cries, the Angel leaned close to the Noble’s face. The flash of amusement did not go unnoticed and nor did Fernando’s attempts to reach the hidden blades. He had no choice; de Sagres had forced his hand. Making sure that Jeanie would not hear, he whispered, “Do not ever state or imply, in front of her, that we are Chosen, Vampires of whatever you call yourself. She knows nothing. She is not to find out.” With that he let go.

Fernando stumbled at the sudden release and caught himself. Swearing under his breath, he hastily righted his attire, smoothing out the wrinkles from the Angel’s white grip. The girl had stopped her ravings to stare at the newcomer in astonishment. Fernando took this all in, even noticing how pretty the girl truly was and matched the Angel’s glare with one of his own.

“Who the hell do you think you are dictating the rules to me?” the Noble stated icily. “I am the one who makes the rules. I am the last heir to the Fidalgo de Sagres. What are you? An anomaly of nature!”

Opening his mouth to reply, the Angel heard Jeanie pipe up, her ire up. Surprised, he let her continue knowing that once started no one, not even Notus, could quiet her. A smile twitched and was gone.

“How dare ye? D’ye even ken who ye are talkin’ to? Who do ye ken ye are? No wait. Ye’re the last ‘ear to the Feedalgo dee Sargase.” Her Scottish accent, thick with anger, warped the Portuguese title.

“That’s Sagres.” Fernando glared at her impudence.

“Sagres. Sargase. What’s the difference?” She thrust out her chin defiantly.

“The difference is in the pronunciation,” he stated coldly. Fernando looked over at the Angel, scowling at the hint of amusement on the pale face. “She’s you’re housekeeper; keep her out of my way, because if you do not control her, I will.”

“She is not my housekeeper,” he replied, amusement gone. “She does as she wills and I cannot, nor will not, force her to anything.” He gazed down into her wide green eyes. “She has already proved this,” he sighed.