Angel of Death: Book One of the Chosen Chronicles

by Karen Dales

  “Is she alright?” asked Fernando, stepping off the gang board, his suitcase still in hand, to stand beside her.

  It sounded almost as if the Noble actually cared, and he turned his attention back to Jeanie. “Are you okay?”

  Jeanie blinked and looked around. “How did I get down?”

  “You don’t remember,” he frowned.

  “I recall catching my heel halfway down, and then I’m here.” Confusion washed over her and she glanced from the Angel to the Noble and back again. “What happened?”

  With a shake of his head, Fernando chuckled and walked off. “Welcome to your second experience, or would that be third, with the Chosen.”

  “What does he mean?” Jeanie pouted in bewilderment.

  Picking up their suitcases, he waited for Jeanie to join him as he followed the Noble down the quay. “You slipped. Fernando caught you before you fell into the ocean and I took you down the rest of the way.”

  “But I would hae remembered that,” implored Jeanie.

  “Not necessarily.” He stared ahead, wondering where the Noble was leading them.

  Jeanie shook her head walking quickly to keep up despite the slight ache in her ankle. “That dinna make any sense.”

  “We’re Chosen, Jeanie.” He smiled down at her as realization took hold, widening her eyes and slacking her jaw.

  “That mean’s Fernando saved me.” Awe mingled with disbelief filled her voice.

  He nodded. Maybe this was the beginning of a truce between the three of them. It was a hopeful thought.

  “And ye?” she probed, glancing up at his shadowed features. “Are ye fine now?”

  “Never better,” he smiled as he placed one foot in front of the other, appreciating the solidity beneath him. Jeanie’s face brightened as she returned the grin and wished he had one hand free just to hold hers.

  The ring of a ship’s bell resounded mournfully in the darkness, calling to a brother that never replied. Rounding the corner, he witnessed Fernando standing stock still staring at a large tri-masted ship. A sudden sense of apprehension came over him, banishing his delectation as he came to a halt beside the other Chosen. Images of the dream before the demons had invaded flooded back and he realized he stood before the ship that had been littered with kaleidoscopic butterflies. His breath swept away with the breeze. It was real and it was here.

  “The Papillon. It’s here,” whispered the Noble in consternation. He looked up at the Angel. “No more excuses, we have to talk and somewhere where we can’t be overheard.”

  At the name of the ship, a shiver ran up his spine. The dream had been real. Meeting the Noble’s concerned eyes, he nodded. Let Fernando take it as he may, he could not let the other Chosen know he had had a dream of this ship long before he had seen it. The question arose as to why. Why had he dreamt of it in the first place? He glanced back at the ship’s dark decks knowing he would receive no answer.

  An imperceptible shift in the quality of the night sent a familiar tingle across his body. “We need to find a place to stay, now.”

  It was Fernando’s turn to nod in silent agreement. It was clear that Fernando did not wish to tarry by the ship. “The Captain suggested a place not too far from here.” With one final glance back at the ominous ship, Fernando shuddered and turned, striding down the quay.

  Knowing that Jeanie would be hard pressed to keep the pace, he held back just enough to keep her moving. Jeanie huffed in exertion, suppressing any ability to comment on what had just occurred. He hoped she would understand that they had to be indoors before dawn broke. More importantly, they needed to get away from this ship and the possibility of running into any of its crew. The fact that the Papillon was in Calais, when, according to Fernando’s recounts, it had been in London the night before, proved dangerous evidence that they were on the right track.

  The bellhop placed the key into the door and turned the knob all the while carrying three pieces of luggage. Swinging the ornately decorated door inwards revealed the presidential suite with its large paned windows angling newborn sunlight into the room. Both he and Fernando instinctually stepped back from the opening to stand on either side of the doorway, facing the hall. The light spilling from the suite made the gold on the door across the hall glitter and sparkle. Squinting in the diluted light, he turned to face the Noble across the swatch of faded sunlight.

  “I thought you asked for a north facing room,” he hissed.

  “I did,” replied the Noble, blinking back pain induced tears. “At least I think I did. It’s been a while since I spoke French.”

  He leaned his hooded head against the wall with a thud and closed his eyes. Fernando had insisted on paying for the hotel suite, afraid that had the Angel been left to choose the room, they would all be in a closet somewhere. Annoyed at the inference, he had walked away, letting the Noble speak his antiquated French to the concierge. Standing now in the hallway to the sunlight littered room, he realized he should have stayed and done the talking.

  “Is there something wrong with the room, mademoiselle et monsieur?” called the young man in the middle of the room.

  Jeanie glanced at the two Chosen hiding behind the wall and realised the problem immediately. Stepping into the large brilliant room, she sought a way to cast the palatial suite into darkness and found it. On either side of the windows heavy yellow and green brocade drapes were arranged tastefully tied back with golden ropes ending in long flowing tassels.

  She glanced back at the confounded bellhop. “Is there a way t’ close the drapes?” she asked.

  Brown brows drew together over young pockmarked skin, clearly unable to understand her thick Scot’s accent. “Pardon?”

  Releasing an infuriated huff at the language barrier, Jeanie raised her voice. “Anyone care t’ translate?”

  Fernando opened his mouth to give it a try and closed it at seeing the Angel shake his head.

  “The lady asked if there was a way to close the drapes,” the Angel explained smoothly in French, pitching his voice to carry into the room.

  “You could have told me you spoke French.” Fernando rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Hell you speak it better than me.”

  “Your French is three centuries out of date,” he explained. “Perfect for the sixteen and seventeen hundreds, but it’s stilted by today’s standards.”

  “And you would know, how?” sneered the Noble.

  “Experience,” his voice darkened.

  “What did he say?” called Jeanie from the room, adding to the tension.

  “Who?”

  He heard her huff in exasperation. “The bellhop. Weren’t ye listenin’?”

  From the hallway he asked the bellhop to repeat himself and explained. “He said that you untie the cords. Once both sets of drapes are released there is a chain right at the back. You pull it and it will draw the drapes together.” He heard the bellhop speak again and then step around the room. “He’s going to show you how.”

  Slowly, the dim light flooding into the hallway diminished. Glancing at the Noble who had stepped away from the doorframe, he followed suit and found the hotel suite to be blissfully blackened. The only light that filtered in came through the edges and that was manageable. It also allowed for more than enough detail of the gold and yellow wallpaper to jump out at them. The vaulted ceiling sported a magnificent crystal chandelier that used electricity to power its massive bulbs. A large fireplace along the left side lay dormant, but the wood neatly stacked beside and in the hearth promised wondrous warmth on a cold night. A hallway off to the left beside the fireplace led to one of the bedrooms and en suite baths, another hallway off the right of the parlour led to the master bedroom and accessories. It was indeed a magnificent suite and he wondered how much Fernando was paying for the privilege of staying in such quarters.

  The Noble seemed quite at ease in such luxuriant accommodations as he stripped off his cape with a flourish and hung it in the closet to the right of the door. “This will do nicely,” he
nodded, taking in the room as if appraising whether it was good enough for one such as he.

  “Will that be all?” nervously ventured the bellhop, realizing the one who had spoken to him was the one who frightened him.

  Not daring to disclose his features to the nervous young man, he nodded and replied, “Yes, thank you.” He heard Fernando fall into one of the plush chairs with a sigh.

  The bellhop glanced at the unusual guests and picking the least ominous, he walked over to Jeanie and gave her the two keys to the suite and all but ran to the door.

  “Remember,” called the Noble in his stilted French, halting the young man’s progress, “we’re not to be disturbed for any reason. If we need anything, we’ll let you know.”

  “Oui, monsieur,” squeaked the bellhop. Grabbing the door handle, he pulled it shut as he left the strange hotel guests in the most expensive room in all of Calais. He did not even wait for a tip.

  Suitcases neatly lined against the wall next to the closet, the Angel unhooked his cloak and lifted it off his shoulders, following Fernando’s actions by placing it in the closet. Taking Jeanie’s coat from her, he did the same and watched her as she sat on the couch with a fatigued groan and began to untie her shoelaces. The silence between the three of them grew until he realized Fernando’s steady glare on him.

  “Och, that’s much better,” sighed Jeanie, rubbing her stocking feet. Without looking up at the Noble sitting across from her, she continued abashedly, “I wanna thank ye for catching me.”

  A dark brow lifted in mild surprise and then lowered as he nodded. Fernando had not expected the mortal girl to state her appreciation. Her acerbic attitudes towards him left Fernando wondering if she had any civility in her. Now it seemed Notus’ housekeeper could show some level of decorum.

  Not to be outdone he replied curtly, “You’re welcome. It was just instinct. Mortal chivalries haven’t been divested from me yet.”

  Jeanie’s eyes narrowed. She had stated her thanks and the vampire’s reaction needled her. It seemed that no matter what the Noble said, it was some sort of personal attack. Opening her mouth to reply in suit she jumped at the sound of leather encased wood and metal hitting the table between them.

  Before them, the Angel’s sheathed sword laid the length of the cherry wood table. She met Fernando’s surprised brown eyes and they both looked up at the Angel standing tall above them, his eyes flashing in a mask of nonexpression before he turned to go down the hall.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” called the Noble, angrily as he leaned forward. “We need to talk.”

  “If the two of you are going to continue sniping at each other, I would prefer to be away from it,” he replied turning in the hall to face them.

  Jeanie’s chagrined expression was not lost on him and in that instant he wanted to console her, but the pettiness between mortal and Chosen had to stop.

  Fernando’s eyes widened with the realization that the Angel was going to leave him alone with Jeanie.

  “What? And ruin the fun we’ve been having?”

  Fernando glanced back at the girl and smiled at his joke. It was not returned.

  “Okay. Fine.” He sat back, arms across his chest.

  “Jeanie?” ventured the Angel, hoping that she would follow suit.

  Glancing between the man she loved and the one she loathed she smiled. If it were meant as a joke, which she seriously doubted, she would take it as a joke.

  “But I dinna get t' make him angry yet,” she grinned.

  Fernando's eyes widened in shock and let out a bark of laughter.

  A tenuous peace established between the Noble and Jeanie, the Angel walked back into the elegantly decorated parlour and sat down on the sofa beside Jeanie. If Fernando wanted to talk, he would listen.

  Recognizing that he now had the floor, Fernando uncrossed his arms. He would not look into the Angel’s eyes. It was easier to do so when the tall pale Chosen was cloaked. Having him so close and obviously choleric made Fernando edgy, especially after what Bridget had told him.

  The shipping note slipped into his hand as he reached into his vest pocket and he carefully opened it and laid it on the table beside the sword. He had never seen the Angel carry one before and had thought he had seen its outline under the vampire’s cloak, but having it prominently displayed slammed home verification of the Angel’s warrior status. The hilt looked incredibly old and worn, but its workmanship was not lost on the Noble as he realized that there was about five feet of sheathed steel. He pondered how used the sword appeared.

  Fernando shook that notion off and brought his attention back to the situation at hand. “This little piece of paper landed me with a headache the size of which I hadn’t experienced since I was mortal,” he stated, waiting for some sort of derogatory remark. When none was forthcoming, he continued. “Before I was knocked out I watched barrels of the spice being loaded onto the Kaleidoscope. That ship is here when its paperwork stated it’s supposed to be going to LaCoruna, Spain, which means we’re on the right trail. The problem we have now is to find V. Corneilli & Sons, Shipping & Receiving’s office and there is no address on this.” He leaned back waiting for a reply. “We need to find out who is ordering these herbs. We know it’s coming from Calais and to find out who we need to see the original shipping orders.”

  The prospect of searching through Calais to find V. Corneilli & Sons slumped the Angel’s shoulders. Calais was a large city. Sure it was not as populated as London, but it was a booming port and that meant spending precious time searching. With only the night, it could take even longer.

  “I’ll go,” said Jeanie.

  “What?” Jeanie’s offer surprised the Angel and he turned to face her and met with a determined expression.

  “I’ll go find the office.” Jeanie leaned over and picked up the paper before reaching for her shoes.

  “You can’t go,” he stated in disbelief at the same time Fernando said, “Great.” He glared at the Noble.

  “She’s perfect,” replied Fernando, refusing to look at the fiery eyes. “After all you’re the one who said having Jeanie along will allow us to get things done during the day.”

  He sat up straight as if slapped. He had said those words but he did not mean to place her in danger. Sending Jeanie to the shipping house was like sending a mouse covered in milk into a crate full of cats.

  “Fernando’s right,” agreed Jeanie. “It’ll save time and it’ll allow me to get something t’eat.” She slipped on one shoe, lacing them up.

  Disbelieving that Jeanie and Fernando were actually agreeing on something, he found that he was on the other end and he did not know what to do.

  Fernando turned to face Jeanie, a half smile of approval on his face. He had not expected her to volunteer her efforts. “Just go and find the office. Don’t go in. Be discreet and come back. If you find it today we’ll take care of things tonight.” He stood up, stretched and walked down the hall to the bedroom.

  Jeanie nodded and finished tying the bow on the other shoe. She was not looking forward to leaving at this moment, but she was famished and at least she would be able to help. Anything to get the Good Father back sooner rather than later was better than sitting around waiting. What she could not bear to see was the distress on the Angel’s face.

  “One more thing,” came Fernando’s voice as he re-entered the parlour once more. “Jeanie, if you wouldn’t mind?” He held out his arm in an inviting way towards the bedroom.

  Intrigued by the use of her name, Jeanie rose and strode down the hall with the Noble in her wake. The bedroom door stood ajar, morning sunlight spilling into the hall. A smile quirked her lips as she entered the grandiose bedroom brilliantly illuminated with warm radiance. It did not take her long to untie the drapes and draw them together. Fernando would also have the extra protection of the drapes hanging from the canopied bed and she wondered what the master bedroom looked like.

  “Thank you,” said Fernando, stiffly, as she exited. />
  “Consider us even,” she smiled as she walked back into the parlour.

  Fernando watched Jeanie’s shapely form retreat. Sniffing in amusement, he shook his head, entered the room and closed the door, a kernel of respect for the mortal girl developing.

  He sat on the couch, the knot of worry tying itself tighter in his gut, as he watched Jeanie emerge from the hallway leading to Fernando’s room. Whispers of russet and copper hair snuck out of the bun she had twisted it into a bun at the nape of her neck, framing her tired face in soft tones. He had to stop her from doing this foolish task. Jeanie’s help in obtaining passage to Calais was one thing, but sending her to find the office was too dangerous. Oathbound or not he could not allow her to fall into danger, not again. Rising from his seat, he followed her down the other hall to the master suite.

  The door opened at her turn of the gold and crystal knob, spilling bright sunlight into the hall. He should have expected it, but his thoughts of sending Jeanie out in a foreign country to look for the den of their enemies distracted him. He gave a gasp as he leapt back out of the direct light, taking shelter towards the end of the hall.

  “Are ye alright?” she called, turning around to face him. Genuine concern washed over her features. She wanted to see the master bedroom before she headed out for breakfast and to search for the office. Never having been in such a grand place, she wanted to check out every nook and cranny. She felt a little kid again off on an imaginary treasure hunt and this time she wanted to find the treasure for real.

  Nodding, he watched through squinting watery eyes as she entered the room. After a moment or two, darkness prevailed and he followed.

  The master bedroom was grand, much larger than the entirety of his flat. The king sized curtained canopy bed sat against the far wall, its drapery open on the side facing him. Across from the bed, against the opposite wall, a large fireplace with a mahogany mantle was set with wood, ready for a match to be lit. A writing desk large enough to make Notus shake with envy sat beside the entrance to another hallway that ran back the way they came but along the curtains blocking the sunlight.