“You should have said something, Max,” Jones said and I knew he was hurt that I’d kept this from him. But after all the stress I put him through after my mom died, I couldn’t put another load on him.
“It wasn’t easy and I rather have forgotten then bring it up,” I said into the quiet. The only sound coming from the front door where Nikolai was still on the ground, snoring.
“Son,” my father started.
“Don’t,” I said as I put up a hand. “Don’t you dare call me your son. You didn’t bother to speak to me for over a month. I didn’t have to tell you a thing.” I was still angry with him, and rightfully so. He didn’t have the right to question me or even try to console me. He chose her and that’s something I don’t think I can ever forgive.
“Fine, I’m sorry,” he said and cleared his throat. “Is this why you want to find Jeremiel?”
“Yes. I know he can give me answers, I just need to find him,” I said. Either way, whether they decided to or not, I was going to look for him. We’ve—well mainly, I—wasted too much time by not looking for him.
“Where do you think we should start?”
“His home. I think he was taken from there and while we look, we can also go through his library for any more information on the prophecies,” I said and he nodded.
“What about Abbadon?” Jones asked.
“I was thinking about going to Europe and try to pick up a trail on him. He’s not a big fan of the New World. I’m sure he’s holed up somewhere in Italy,” my father said.
Angela’s eyes widened. “You can’t go alone, Xavier. I’m coming with you,” she volunteered.
“No. You go with the boys. I can handle your father.”
I glared daggers in her direction if she thought I’d even let her go to meet Abbadon alone with my father. It would have been perfect for her to get him killed as well. That was probably her plan. Trick my dad into going and walking him right into a trap of Abbadon’s doing. I might be angry with my father, but I wouldn’t wish harm on him either. I’m glad he had more sense and told her she couldn’t go. That way, I would be able to corner her myself. Once we’d leave the Bahamas, she wasn’t coming back with us, not if I could help it.
“I promise, Maximillion, I’ll call this time,” my father said.
I wasn’t going to hold my breath. “Yeah, whatever.”
25
I sat next to Niko, while Jones and Angela sat together on the flight to Nassau. We had left the next day in the afternoon and my father promised to stay in communication this time while he took a flight to Rome. I was worried for him but knew he’d be able to take care of himself. He also promised he wouldn’t make any moves against Abbadon until we were able to get over there for back up.
In the meantime, I wanted to open my hearing and listen in on Jones and Angela’s conversation. On the hour flight, there was a lot of whispering between them and with the tension between all of us, I couldn’t risk losing Jones to her. He was somewhat sympathetic and that worried me. It seemed like I was the only one who saw her for what she really was—a killer.
With minor turbulence, we landed on a private air strip and gathered our carry-on bags. We hadn’t packed much since we only came to find some information on Jeremiels disappearance and whatever we can find in the library, so we didn’t have to wait to pick up luggage. While Jones hailed a cab, the rest of us stood awkwardly next to each other and waited. Angela, in all her coolness, appeared unbothered. Which only angered me even more. Nikolai put a hand on my shoulder and shook his head. My emotions must have been written all over my face if he knew what I was thinking or at least what I was feeling. But I didn’t fret, I’d have my moment with her and then there’d be no escaping.
A taxi pulled up in front of us with Jones in the passenger seat. The three of us crammed into the back with Greed in the middle. “Well, this is comfy,” he said. I peered at him from the corner of my eyes and saw the mischief in his expression.
“Just keep quiet and stop wiggling so much,” I said. He kept moving around, trying to get comfortable in such tight quarters.
“I can’t, my butt bone hurts. I’ve done too many squats to get it plump and firm, just to have it flattened by a cab ride,” he said.
“Is he serious?” Angela asked and I didn’t acknowledge her. Did she really think she could talk to us?
“I’m very serious, Laura Croft. I don’t cut corners when it comes to my physique. Women are very demanding nowadays,” Nikolai said with a serious face that was hidden behind a pair of Ray Ban sunglasses. For dealing with a hangover, he was pretty cheery.
“Laura Croft?” Jones turned in his seat to ask.
“Yeah, haven’t you ever seen the Tomb Raider? This chick looks like a teenage version of her, all leather, bad attitude—and a killer,” he said nonchalantly.
“I’m not a killer,” Angela gritted.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetheart. I always have space in my bed if you want,” Greed said with a wink. Her face scrunched up in disgust and she plastered her body to the car door, as far away from Nikolai as she could. I smirked and silently thanked my lucky stars. That’ll show her. This is going to be a trip from hell.
“Leave her alone,” Jones growled and the rest of the car ride was spent in silence.
The cabbie pulled up to Jeremiels gated mansion and as we filed out, Nikolai let out a low whistle. “Well I’ll be damned. This old man lives good,” he said. The fact that we don’t even know if he was still alive made my gut churn.
“He doesn’t live here. Jeremiel is missing,” I said.
Greed did a double take, “Wait. The Archangel of Prophecies is missing? As in kidnapped?” I couldn’t speak, a knot had formed in my throat so I nodded. Was he not paying attention last night? Or anytime I mentioned Jeremiel? Oh yeah, he was passed out on the floor last night. “Why didn’t you say something earlier? Have you contacted any archangels to find him?”
“The archangel Samuel was the one who told us. He said they’ve tried finding him, but he’s barely conscious so the connection between the angels is not strong enough to find him,” Jones said, understanding I wasn’t able to fully talk about it.
“That’s…odd,” Nikolai said. We walked toward the gate where security was supposed to be but the security box was empty. Now that was odd. Angela shook the gate, but it was securely locked. “I don’t think the archangels—”
“Not now!” Angela yelled at Greed as she tried to pull the gate open. Jones approached her from behind and gripped the chain that held the gate locked. With a flick of his wrist, the chains broke, giving us access to the grounds.
“You could have just asked,” Jones said with a smirk. She pushed him lightly on the shoulder like they were buddies and we walked up the driveway to the entrance of the mansion.
“Guys!” Nikolai said from behind, he was still standing at the gate.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“What I was trying to say before Laura Croft interrupted—”
“I’m not—”
“Whatever! What I was trying to say before was that this doesn’t seem right,” Greed said, “This whole thing with the Archangels, I mean. It is literally impossible for the Angel of Prophecies to have been kidnapped.” He took a deep breath, preparing for a monologue. “He’s sort of like a Seer, he would have seen it coming. The Angel of Prophecies doesn’t just have prophetic visions, but he is also all knowing. With just a look at someone, he knows who you are, what your intentions are, hell he could tell you what you’ll have for lunch before you even know. There’s no way,” he said and we all stared at him dumbly.
“Niko—”
“What I’m saying is, he knew he was going to be taken and he let them. Which makes me wonder whether he knew his captors,” Nikolai said with uneasiness.
“We know!” the three of us yelled and his mouth snapped shut.
“You guys already know?” he looked astonished.
I chuckled
. “Yes, we figured it all out last night while you were passed out drunk on the floor.” His face turned slightly green and I thought he was going to hurl.
My face swiveled to Jones who looked like he was running every possible scenario in his head.
“Could Samuel really have done this?” Angela wondered aloud. “I know he was fidgety when he came to tell us that Jeremiel was missing and when Max put him on the spot; he got nervous and bolted. But could he really?”
“I don’t know,” I whispered.
“Let’s get inside, we shouldn’t be having this conversation out in the open. If Samuel did kidnap Jeremiel, I’m pretty sure he has this place under a watchful eye,” Jones said.
We followed him to the front door and with his strength, Jones pulled the door open, some of its hinges coming off.
Dust motes clouded us as we walked into the foyer, the light from outside shinning in. All the curtains were closed shut and the house was dark and gloomy. Our footsteps echoed as we walked deeper into the mansion. Angela found a light switch and a faint glow came from the sitting room. We headed in that direction but refused to sit down.
“This place is filthy,” Nikolai said. He avoided touching anything.
“He’s been gone for over a month, of course it’s going to be dirty,” I said as I ran my hands over a bookshelf he had in between two windows. My fingers lingered over the leather bound books as I traced their spines.
“Let’s head upstairs and find some bedrooms for the night,” Jones suggested.
The others were already upstairs when I finally managed to pull myself away from the sitting room. Oddly enough, I could still feel Jeremiel in the house. His energy lingered and it was comforting, like an unspoken confirmation that he was still alive and kicking. I could only hope that he was and we’d be able to find him in time.
The floor boards creaked underneath me as I walked to the door at the end of the hallway on the second floor. I was almost certain it was the master bedroom; Jeremiels room. Jones wouldn’t have let anyone else stay in it. There was no forced entry or any hints of a struggle around the house so it only strengthened our theory that Jeremiel was taken by someone he knew and possibly trusted. It was making Samuel even guiltier in my eyes.
I turned the knob and was engulfed in his energy and happy mood. In the middle of the room was a King size canopy bed with silk sheets and white sheer cloths overhead. To the right was a small seating area by a large window; a chair with a small table in front of it held a small stack of books he most likely was reading before bed. Another bookshelf was off to the side that held some other knick knacks. On the left was a night stand with a lamp that was still on and the entry to a walk in closet. It must have been big because from where I stood, I couldn’t see the end of it. With my duffle bag in hand, I dropped it on the bed, and dust bunnies floated around causing me to sneeze.
At that moment Angela poked her head in the room, ruining my semi good mood. “Hey…um, everything okay?” I stared at her for a moment, my features stone cold and I tightly nodded my head. “Can I come in for a moment?” She asked. My eyes narrowed, but she didn’t wait for my response. She came in and shut the door behind her.
“I didn’t say you could come in,” I said as I took her in. She wore her combat boots, leather leggings with a sweater like one of those long shirts girls wear with the tights. Her midnight hair was down and in perfect waves that rippled down her back. For a split second, I felt a bit nostalgic and wished she hadn’t betrayed me the way she did. I shook that feeling away and harden myself for whatever she planned on saying.
“I know you didn’t, but I wasn’t sure you were going to let me in. I was hoping we could talk,” she said and she didn’t look nervous or shy, she was the same Angela. Brave, strong and undeterred. “You’ve had a lot of time to think about things as have I. By the way you’ve been treating me since we saw each other again, you blame me. And to be frank, I’m not going to apologize to you or beg for forgiveness. I shouldn’t even have to explain myself to you of all people. But I will if I have to, so the tension between us doesn’t affect everyone around us.”
I snorted. “If this is your idea of an apology, you’re horrible at it and I don’t accept. Did you really think I would forgive you? Just like that?” I hauntingly laughed. “I’m going to make your life a living hell and when I’m bored and done with you, I’ll burn you alive just like you did my mother. How’s that for clearing the tension.”
Her menacing green eyes bore holes into me as she contemplated her next move. She clenched her fists and I smirked. “Xavier was right, what the hell happened to you?”
“You really want to know?” I asked but I didn’t wait for a response. “Fear. It’s no longer an obstacle for me. My mother was killed, my father is nothing but a stranger to me, all I do is cause my guardian unnecessary stress and I have almost every angel and demon on the hunt for me for some stupid prophecy. And let’s not forget that the girl I loved, turned out to be a murderous bitch,” my eyes momentarily widen at my proclamation of love, but I steeled them again. I don’t know if what I said was true, had I loved her? But now wasn’t the time to overanalyze it. My voice was detached, empty, “I’m no longer scared because I have absolutely nothing to lose.”
She watched me, her gaze looking for a hole in my explanation but she couldn’t find it. I crossed my arms over my chest as she walked towards me—stopping a foot away. “So because you’re fearless, it gives you the right to be careless?” She whispered, her gaze fixed on my chest. “You don’t think that if something happened to you, it wouldn’t hurt Loran? Or Xavier?” She took a deep breath and met my eyes, “Or me?”
“I don’t care if I hurt you,” I clipped out.
“But you loved me. Somewhere deep down under all that anger and hatred, you care, I know you do. Because no matter what you say or think you feel, I know you Max. I might know you better than anyone.” Her hand reached out and she placed her palm flat on my chest, above my heart. “I’ve spent years protecting you from afar. Watching how you feel in front of others and how you feel when you’re alone.” My arms fell away and my breathing became erratic. She was too close and I hadn’t seen her move.
My fingers tingled with an unknown energy that made me grab her upper arms and put her flat against my chest. She gasped and her wide eyes looked up again at my intense glare. It was as if we were locked in a stare off, waiting for someone to blink first. But that wasn’t in her nature and I was learning that it wasn’t in mine either.
Before I even touched them, I could taste the cherry of her lips from the first time we’d ever kissed and it was more than enough motivation for me to lean down and press my lips gently on hers. She sucked in a breath at our unexpected contact but opened her mouth as I did. Her tongue teased me, but we didn’t cross that line. Angela’s hands came to my sides and she gripped my shirt like a life raft. I moaned like I was in pain and the feeling wasn’t too far off.
We pushed away from each other, our eyes wide from what was becoming a routine. It was painful to have succumbed to her and to let go. It was a feeling I wasn’t comfortable with and it spiked my anger. I recalled what we had just been talking about and I realized she provoked this reaction from me, even if her face was saying otherwise. She was a liar and I couldn’t believe a thing that came out that poisonous mouth of hers.
“You don’t know anything,” I seethed, “And you could care less about me just as much as you cared about my mother.” My hands were shaking in rage.
“That’s not true, Max,” she said and her face hardened as she took in my anger. “Seeing my father was just as much of a shock to you as it was to me.” She took a step back, putting more distance between us—her hands on her hips. “I saw him die. Right in front of me, he died I swear. I mean, they burned him at the stake next to me! His body went up in flames before they killed me.” Her face flushed, she ran her hands through her hair in frustration. Whether it was from the kiss that we were skirting ar
ound or the conversation, I didn’t know.
But her words made me pause—they burned her at the stake? I thought as I watched her pace the room, trying to make sense of everything. My shoulders slumped a little at the thought that she might be telling the truth. No. We just kissed and my emotions are too mixed up to make a sound judgment. It wouldn’t matter anyways, she helped him kill my mother. Either way, she’s a murderer.
“So what? You saw him die. It doesn’t change the fact that you helped him instead of stopping him. You knew he was going to kill her!” I remembered my rage and yelled.
She stopped her pacing. “I didn’t help him,” she clipped. “I thought you were going to kill him, I just didn’t expect him to kill Emily. You didn’t know the kind of man my father was. He would have never done this. I truly believed he wouldn’t hurt Emily, I swear,” she said with conviction. Too bad I didn’t believe her.
Angela’s eyes squinted in pain and I had a hard time not wanting to go to her. “What’s wrong?” I said more harshly then intended.
She cleared her throat. “Nothing,” she said as she rubbed her eyes. I watched her more intently, but she turned away from me and walked to the door. “Are we going to make this work or not?” She asked, her back to me.
“Not a chance in hell,” I said and she walked out, slamming the bedroom door.
After a much needed shower and until my skin was pruny, I put on a pair of plaid pajama pants and a t-shirt. I shook out the water droplets from my hair and remembered I was going to need to get a haircut soon. I took a deep breath before heading downstairs where I was sure everyone was congregating. Sure enough, I found them in the kitchen with a couple of boxes of pizza. It was dark out already so I wasn’t surprised to find everyone in some sort of night wear.
“Ah, he’s alive!” Nikolai said in his best scientist voice from Frankenstein. “We thought you might have fallen in the toilet. Jones was about to go up and plunge you out.”
Greed (Sins of the Fallen Book 2) Page 15