Angel of Death: Book One of the Chosen Chronicles (11 page)

Jeanie’s face brightened into a smile, making him uncomfortably warm. Reluctantly he pulled his eyes off her beautiful face and back to Fernando’s scowling features.

The Angel did not like the threatening expression on de Sagres’ face. “And you will not do anything to her either.”

Fernando’s scowl deepened, his eyes flickered with anger. No one told him what he could or could not do, and he resented the Angel for trying, but he would wait, bide his time, an immortals lifetime if necessary. Gathering his cloak around his broad muscled body, he strode up to his new partner without sparing the girl as much as a glance. “Never tell me what to do and I will spare this low born gutter swipe” – he flicked his eyes in Jeanie’s direction – “from my charms.”

Ignoring the fuming girl, the Noble swung around and stalked down the lane, his heels clicking loudly on stone. “Are you coming or are you not?” he called without turning or halting.

“Don’t.” The Angel laid his hand on Jeanie’s shoulder to still her from bolting after the Noble. He could feel the anger shuddering through her, and somehow sensed her need to go and tear a strip off of Fernando. He understood the feeling and released the tight fist of his other hand. There were reasons why he stayed away from the other Chosen, and Fernando proved part of the rule.

Shrugging off his touch, Jeanie spun around. “Were those only words ye spoke just a minute ago? Or are ye now a liar?”

Suddenly weary of all the confrontations, he closed his eyes and shook his head. He wanted this fiasco to be over with. He wanted Notus back safe and to be left alone to do as he wished, but the strings kept tugging him. Now he had to keep Jeanie safe from all this madness. “Do as you will, but I
will
see to it that you are kept safe.”

The anger guttered out of Jeanie’s eyes and she allowed him to guide her down the lane and back onto the street. She hardly needed protection, living over a pub had its own hazards, but she felt oddly comforted that he wanted to do this for her. No one had before. She glanced up to notice that beneath his hood he looked down trodden, that something was wrong, and then it hit her; the reason for tonight.

“Where’s the Good Father?” she blurted. “Ye were supposed t’ have gotten him back.”

He looked away.

“Where is he?” she forced them to a halt.

Images of Notus’ beaten and drained body suspended in a cruel mockery of Christ’s crucifixion flashed into his mind along with the Mistress’ victorious smile, making him wince.

“I could not get him back,” he whispered.
I failed him,
but he could not say this.

“Then we must go to the Bobbies.” Her voice rose in panic.

“No.” He shook his head. Bringing the police would not only endanger Notus, but most likely set a war of mortal against immortal – something that must never happen.

“Then how d’ye propose to get the Good Father back? Oh God, he isna dead?” Her hand flew to her face, covering her mouth. “Ye’re no’ saying he’s dead? Oh God, I –”

“He is not dead,” he blurted more in denial of the possibility. Her panic was beginning to affect him. Her exquisite face was full of fear. “He is being held hostage,” he stated. Trying to regain control of emotions threatening to break free, he guided them to resume their pace. “I have to do something to get him back.”

“Then I’ll help.”

He shook his head, sparking a flicker of anger in Jeanie.

“Ye said–”

“I know what I said,” he cut her off. He was in no mood for any more arguments. “There is a chance that if I fail not only will I be dead, but so will Notus. I also said I will keep you safe and that means I will drop you off at your place and you will stay there.”
 

She opened her mouth to protest, but he quickly interrupted her. “I cannot afford to be distracted by the possibility of you getting hurt,” he said, softly.

“It’s that bad?” asked Jeanie, gazing down at the stones she stepped on. The fire was squashed before it took full light. Now that the reality of the situation seemed to present itself, danger or no, she wanted – needed – to help. “I dinna care. I want t’ help. Ye said that ye would no stop me from doin’ what I will. Well, I will help ye whether ye will it or no. I dinna want another fight. I just want t’help. The Good Father has done so much for me. I just want to do something to repay him. Please?”

They walked in silence, Jeanie’s plea hung heavily between them. Her desire to assist could not b dismissed as she waited for his answer. He frowned. Her need was so much like his own that he glanced at her as she watched the cobblestones. Her hair bounced and flew around her face, creating a fiery halo, and he knew in that instant that he wanted her near him, no matter the cost, and that frightened him.

Gazing into the gas lit illuminated night he whispered, “Alright.” Jeanie jerked her head up, green eyes wide with surprise and quickly closed her mouth. He continued on without looking at her. “I do not know how you can help, but you have to listen to me, to do as I say and not argue.” Jeanie opened her mouth and quickly shut it. “It is for your own safety.”

“Tell me what’s goin’ on,” she asked, bringing her gaze to Fernando’s fluttering cloak far ahead of them. She knew in the way he spoke, the Angel’s impassive mask was back in place, and cursed it.

“I cannot. I have told you everything I can. To tell you more will put you in greater danger and I will not allow that. All you need to know is that Notus is being held hostage until Fernando and I …” he trailed off with a sigh. “You are just going to have to trust me. I cannot answer all your questions.”

A frown formed on Jeanie’s face as they walked in silence. The only sounds were their footfalls and the occasional horse drawn carriage clattering down the street so late in the night.

“Can ye tell me one thing?” she whispered, breaking the silence. “If ye do, I’ll agree to yer terms.”

He tilted his head expectantly.

“How is it,” she cautiously continued, “that ye would be so strangely paired with a Priest? I’ve never heard of a Priest living with and being so close with someone not of the cloth. Ye two are as different as night is to day, and yet, are close like father and son.”

The query caught him off guard. He had not expected it and glanced away from her searching eyes.

“He saved me once, a very long time ago,” he whispered.

Silence crashed between them, isolating them to their own private thoughts. Jeanie wished to alleviate the tension by pressing the issue. She had discovered more about the Angel this night than in the years of being the housekeeper. Now she yearned to know more. Her next question died on her lips before a word could be uttered as a wild carriage hurtled thunderously down the street towards Fernando, and at them.

Fernando leapt out of the way, barely missing the burlap bag that flew at him and landing on the cobbles with a wet smack.

Not as neatly as the Noble, he shoved Jeanie out of the foaming horse’s path. Jeanie landed painfully on her rear with a cry to watch the Angel leap, roll and come quickly to his feet in a blur of motion, safe out the way. He stood absolutely still, poised for another attempt. When the carriage did not return he realized that his hood had slipped, revealing his pale white features, and hastily flipped up the concealing fabric.

Reams of unintelligible cursing spewed forth from the Noble, and in one hand a blade flashed menacingly. The dark stained burlap bag lay ignored at his feet. Words finally spent, Fernando gazed down at what had almost hit him and frowned.

“Are you unharmed?” The Angel held out his hand to Jeanie. Even rumpled from the fall she still captivated him as her warm hand slipped into his.

“Aye.” She noted the cool softness of his fingers as he gently lifted her to her feet.
He’s always so cold,
she silently remarked. “Thank ye.”

Jeanie glanced up at his hidden eyes and realized they were but a breath apart. The light from the lamp shadowed all but his perfectly full pale lips. Heat rose, flushing her cheeks as she wondered what it would be like to kiss those lips. Instead she backed away, allowing her hand to slip from his. Head and shoulders taller than herself, she let her eyes fall on his cloaked chest and turned away.

He drank in her yearning eyes and followed the heart shaped curve of her jaw to the quickening vessel on her neck, tantalizing him with each pulse and was relieved when she pulled away and turned her back. He did not know what to make of what he saw in her face. He had not seen that look directed at him in such a very, very long time.

Frowning at her back, he turned his attention to the Noble now crouched down using his blade to pick at the bag. The strong scent of blood filled his nostrils, drawing him forward. Jeanie hesitantly followed on shaky legs, the object of curiosity catching her. They both stood over Fernando who paid them no mind.

“If you are so damned interested, why don’t you just ask?” spat Fernando, still fuming from the near miss. Frustrated, he dropped the knife to lay, blade leaning, on the crumpled burlap bag and stood, his hands coming to rest on his hips, causing his cloak to spread out like black wings.

“If you expect me to do all the work, you have another thing coming,” he sneered. “I usually demand servitude.” His eyes flashed momentarily on the girl. “And since fate has tossed us together, may I suggest that you understand that.”

With a growl Fernando bent his knees to crouch down once more before the bag, a half smile curled his lips when the Angel joined him on the cobbles. Only the girl remained standing.

The rest of Fernando’s smile flourished as he took up his blade and resumed the examination. “What do you think? A clue? A warning? An accident? One thing is certain this is not the blood of an animal. Shall we open the wrapping and see what the present is?” A glint of mischievousness flashed in his smile.

Manoeuvring his cloak over his shoulders to free his hands, he and the Noble worked together at the gruesome task, carefully pushing and pulling to finally reveal the treasure from the blood soaked burlap. He ignored Jeanie’s strangled cry and pursed his own colourless lips at the sight. Only Fernando seemed unaffected by the severed arm, the hand in a fist set tight in death.

Careful not to allow the gore to ruin his clothing, Fernando lifted the limb to study the only ornamentation beside the blood. The ring gleamed gold and blood, and with an expletive the Noble tossed the arm back onto the burlap, splattering crimson droplets around it. He spun away from the sight.

“Shit!” he exploded over and over as he paced. Abruptly, he turned and resumed his place by the severed limb and said, “Do you know who this is …was?”

Mystified, the Angel shook his head.

Taking up the dismembered arm, Fernando gazed at the ring. “Sebastian,” he said vehemently. “Sebastian von Hausen. The most sadistic individual among the – you know.” His tone softened somewhat. “Half of Bridget’s whores are branded with this signet. He would have gotten the rest of the mortal ones, but Bridget put an end to it when she found out.”

Ignoring the slight slip, he suppressed his disgust. “You sound as if you envied him.”

“Envy? No. Never that.” Fernando gave the Angel a sidelong gaze. “Admire, yes. He always had more imagination than I.”

Revolted by the Noble’s admission, the Angel stood and wrapped his cloak tightly around him and noticed Jeanie leaning heavily against the lamp, beads of sweat dotting her brow. Her heartbeat rapidly pulsed in his ears. Glancing down at the Noble, who as now trying to figure out how to get the ring off, he wiped his soiled hands on his cloak, turned and strode over to her.

Her eyes fluttered open to see his cloaked figure standing before her. “I guess it was a good thing I dinna have any dinner.” She gave a half-hearted laugh and then swallowed thickly, wiping her forehead with the back of her arm.

“You don’t look well,” he said softly, unable to keep the worry from filtering through his veneer. “I am going to take you back to your room.” Jeanie opened her mouth to protest but quickly shut it as he raised a bone white finger. “If you are still intent on joining us,” he continued, “you can meet me at my home after sunset tomorrow. Is that agreeable?”