Shadow of Death: Book Two of the Chosen Chronicles

by Karen Dales

  Stepping closer to the edge he watched the scene play out. When the Vampire who stole his sword and who posed for the security camera came out to meet the Chosen, did his breath caught and his heart sped up. There was no doubt that his sword lay somewhere in the building.

  Worry wiggled its grip around his chest. If the Vampires attacked the Chosen, there was nothing he could do about it. The ramifications of such an act would be tantamount to a declaration of war – a war in which the Angel could not participate. It was, therefore, a relief when he witnessed the Master and Mistress of the Chosen turn and leave.

  He stepped back from the edge and frowned. Though he was relieved no violence was done to his friends, he could not stop wondering what Bridget and Fernando were up to. The nagging concern stayed with him even after the Chosen drove away and he resumed his position to watch over The Veil.

  Time dragged out and he could not shake the feeling that something was wrong. As the club returned to its normal activity he decided that he would approach the sword thieves toward the closing of the club. Hopefully there would be the least number of mortals to potentially end up in harm’s way. Then again chances were that there would be more Vampires. It was this that created solid doubt about the wisdom of going up against of Vampires just for a sword.

  He knew he was probably irrational about his desire to get his sword back, but he could not deny his desperate attachment to it and what it represented. He had lost too much in his life, many because time and circumstance willed it so, but the recent losses were the most devastating. He needed his sword, his father’s sword, no matter the cost. It had never failed him.

  The sound of someone climbing the fire escape pulled his attention from the club. It did not take long for a figure clad in black to reveal himself by standing before the metal ladder. Stepping away from the edge of the roof, his body tensed at the sight of the blonde headed Vampire. He knew he should not be surprised, after all he had expected the Vampires to notice him.

  Time eked by. The only evidence that the minutes flowed past was the wind whipping the clouds past a swollen moon. They stood, two predators, studying each other for any sign of offence until the Vampire took a cautious sideways step, his expensive shoes shushing over the stones.

  “Here we are again,” called the Vampire. “I figured it would be better that I come to you since the events that occurred after your brief visit to my establishment. I guess I can assume that Ben and Mitchell’s disappearance can be laid at your feet?”

  He continued to watch the Vampire through the shifting veil of his white hair, never letting his eyes flicker from the creature. The mention of the two other Vampires did not stir him. Either they were the two that Fernando dispatched or they were the ones he staked in the park. It did not matter except to allow the Vampires to believe he was still Chosen and thus the Angel.

  “Do you have nothing to say?” The Vampire opened his arms, pale palms outstretched as if to placate the moonlight that streamed down.

  “Where is my sword?” Quiet menace carried his soft spoken words.

  The Vampire lowered his hands as the corners of his thin pale lips curled upwards. “Ah, the direct approach. I can appreciate that.” He took a step forward and paused when the Angel held his ground.

  He allowed the pause to grow, not deigning to response to the creature until he received an answer to his query. Unmoving, he watched the smirk metamorphose into a scowl.

  “Okay then,” remarked the Vampire. “You want to get to the point – fine. You want your sword back – even better. We’ll give it back to you.”

  The declaration surprised him. It did not make any sense except for one thing. The question he had to ask himself was whether or not it was worth the risk. The answer clutched his heart. “When and where?”

  It was the Vampire’s turn to be surprised and a smirk pulled his lips. “Do you not want to know what we want in exchange?”

  “No,” he stated. “I already know.”

  “Well then, this is a surprise. The Angel of Death expects death,” said the Vampire. “If it is ours, you do not get your sword back. If it is yours, why bother?”

  The Angel lowered his gaze. Did he truly expect to die? And was the Vampire correct? Did it really matter? He tried to keep the frown from his face and failed. What was the worth of his life now that all he held dear was taken from him? He swallowed and brought his gaze up to stare at the Vampire through a veil of white strands. “I am not afraid of death, are you?”

  The Vampire’s eyes went wide before tilting his head in a slight nod. “Beyond The Veil closes at three. I’ll need about an hour or so to clear out the mortals. Meet me at the back of the club. There’s a small parking area that the staff uses. Say four-thirty?”

  “Fine.” His eyes never left the Vampire as the creature moved towards the ladder.

  “One other thing,” the Vampire turned back from the ladder. “If you even dare to call those damned creatures, if I see one misty swirl, I will not hesitate to shatter your precious sword into pieces. Am I clear?”

  “Crystal,” he replied, angered by the threat.

  Satisfied, the Vampire disappeared over the side.

  Alone once more he pulled a white strand away from his mouth and turned back to observe the club.

  Death. Was that what he was truly seeking? Was regaining his sword just an excuse? He slowly released a tension filled breath, ignoring the twinge of his broken ribs. He was no longer the Angel as either the Chosen or the Vampires knew him. Centuries of identity was blasted away in an instant leaving the same scared boy that had expected to live his life alone in a cave. Notus had called it existing, not living. The reality was that he never truly lived, except with Jeanie, and that was gone.

  It was several hours before the meeting was to take place and the question of what to do in the interim gnawed at him. Taking off the leather coat, he rested it on the gravel to lean against the roofing’s bricked edge, removed the two Japanese blades from their hiding places within the fabric, and came to stand in the centre of the roof. The wind plucked at his white linen shirt and hair as if to tell him that this was no place for the Angel. His right hand gently touched his healing ribs. It was going to be uncomfortable, even painful, but it had been too long. He settled into the starting position and began the martial forms that focused his mind and prepared his body.

  “Sir, what do you want to do?” Godfrey stifled a yawn as he drove the limousine. “We’ve been driving all over in hopes of spotting the Angel. We’ve even gone to Beyond The Veil to see if he was there. Nothing.”

  Thanatos, sitting in the back leather seat, sighed and glanced at his gold Gucci watch. “What time does Corvus’ club close?”

  “Three, sir.” Godfrey turned the limo south.

  “From what you’ve stated, Godfrey, the Angel has been in or about Beyond The Veil at least twice.

  “Yes, sir, but we were already there tonight.”

  Thanatos pursed his lips in contemplation. “Go back, Godfrey.”

  “Sir?” Godfrey glanced at his Master in the rear view mirror.

  “A hunch, Godfrey,” said the God of Death. “Drive us back to Corvus Valerius’ club.”

  “Yes, sir.” With a firm destination in mind Godfrey returned his focus on driving and turned onto Queen Street.

  His side stabbed him as he panted from the exertion and the pain three cycles of forms had pulled from his broken ribs. The wind turned the sweat down his chest and back into icy rivers under the cotton shirt, yet another new and unwelcome sensation. Bent over, arm around his chest; his long hair brushed the gravel roof when the wind did not play with it. Carefully straightening to stand, he walked over on burning legs to pick up his jacket, sheathing the swords in the hidden pockets.

  Slipping the coat on cut the chill but did little to warm his body. He shivered and hugged the leather tight. Of all the new experiences and sensations being cold evoked the worst memories from the time he was alone and outcast, exis
ting in a cave.

  He found the ladder and made his way down the rickety fire escape to stand in the garbage strewn alley. With several hours to go he frowned into the darkness. A grumble emanated from his stomach and he closed his eyes as the hunger for food made its presence known – yet another undesired reminder of his mortal state. It was clear how he would spend part of the time and he pulled out his wallet from the inside jacket pocket. Walking out of the darkness and into the diffuse street light, he checked his cards and hoped Notus had not lied about allowing him continued access to the accounts. He slipped the wallet back into its pocket.

  Despite the late hour finding an open eating establishment proved promising. Toronto was a city that never truly slept. The question he had to ask was what he was willing to try, if anything. The thought of sitting under the scrutiny of staff and patrons while he attempted to master knife and fork as he ate unknown food dulled the roar of his stomach. He rounded the corner of the building and back into the main thoroughfare, his eyes landing on Beyond the Veil’s active entrance.

  No sign of the impending confrontation took place. Only the natural late night behaviours of mortals unaware of the dangers they placed themselves in. His jaw tightened to grate his teeth together and he turned away before he did something rash. The time to deal with the Vampires was soon approaching and that had to be enough.

  He turned to his left, deciding to walk westward in hopes to find a quiet place to eat and to kill some time. Hands left out of his pockets at the ready it was a surprise when a man leaning against a limousine hailed him.

  “Excuse me, sir,” came the fear tinged voice.

  He halted and turned to face the fair man, the black driver’s cap covering most of his corn silk strands. A frown pulled as he recognized the man from earlier this morning. What were the Vampires playing at? “What?” he spat.

  The driver recoiled as if hit, blue eyes wide.

  “I would appreciate if you would stop scaring my manservant.” A short young man with dark curling hair and large brown eyes stepped from the back of the car. For his fancy appearance he looked no older than his mid twenties, but held the bearing of someone much older.

  Was there fear in the man’s dark eyes? He crossed his arms to glare down at them. “Why are you following me?”

  “I – well – uh,” stammered the man, flustered at the direct assault. “We need to talk.” The words flowed out in a nervous rush.

  He cocked his head, narrowing his eyes. “What other conditions do the Vampires place upon me in order to get my sword back?”

  “My master isn’t—” blurted the driver, finding his courage.

  “Still, Godfrey.” The man placed a restraining hand on his servant. “It doesn’t matter.”

  The driver looked askance at his employer before relaxing his stance.

  “I was hoping we could talk in private.” The dark haired man offered the warmth of the back seat of the car by holding the door open, his brown eyes flickering nervously.

  He studied the two for a moment before turning on his heel to continue on his way.

  “Please wait,” called the short man, panic colouring his tones.

  He halted but did not turn around. Enough was enough. “I will be back for my sword at the agreed upon time.”

  He did not wait for a response as he continued down the sidewalk.

  Thanatos stood dumbstruck as he watched the Angel’s retreating back. There was no doubt that a serious misunderstanding took place. The question left hanging was what exactly did the Angel assume was going on? He frowned and closed the car door. After searching for answers and hoping the Angel was the one to relinquish them, Thanatos had hoped that finally meeting the Angel would have gone differently. To have the Angel react to him so cut deep, but after all the Angel had gone through maybe it was too late to find the answers he sought since before the Angel’s birth.

  “What do we do now, sir?” Godfrey’s question cut to the heart of the matter.

  A sigh escaped and Thanatos frowned. “I’m not sure, Godfrey.”

  “Sir, he took you for a Vampire, why would he do that?”

  Thanatos gazed up into hurt blue eyes, saddened by what he saw in his Godfrey’s face, and shook his head. There were so many reasons and none that he could tell his most trusted of servants.

  “Let’s go home, Godfrey,” he said, opening the car door for himself. “I don’t know what else to do.”

  Godfrey took the door once his master was seated on the black leather. He had almost closed the door before snatching it open.

  “What is it, Godfrey?” Thanatos stared up at the man, surprised by the strange behaviour.

  “Sir, the Angel said he’d be back.” Godfrey’s voice rushed out in excitement.

  Thanatos was going to debate that but then nodded, remembering the Angel’s last statement.

  “He said–”

  “He said that he’s coming back for his sword as if we knew where it was.” In his excitement Godfrey realized his faux paux. “Oh, sir! I’m so sorry!”

  Perturbed by Godfrey’s slip Thanatos dismissed his servant’s behaviour with a wave of his hand. “Just so that it doesn’t happen again. We will stay here and wait. Corvus is up to something and I will find out if he’s still dead set on defying me. If the Angel refuses to listen there is nothing to be done about that.”

  “Yes, sir.” Godfrey closed his Master’s door and entered the driver’s seat, settling his cap more securely upon his head. It was a surprise when the yawn overtook his professional veneer.

  “Godfrey,” spoke Thanatos, gently. “Take a nap. I will wake you when the time comes.”

  Appreciative blue eyes met brown through the rear view mirror. “Thank you, sir.”

  Godfrey slipped his cap low enough to shade his eyes as he relaxed into his seat.

  It did not take long before his servant was snoring softly. Quietly, so as not to disturb Godfrey, Thanatos opened the door and stepped out of the limousine to lean against the trunk. His dark brown eyes narrowed as he watched patrons of Beyond The Veil exit and enter.

  What are you up to, Corvus?

  Corbie Vale, Lord of Valraven, once Corvus Valerius Tertius of the Roman legions, caressed the length of the sword laid across his white oak desk and scanned the faces of the Vampires who ruled beneath him. Satisfaction burned through as he named the faces. Some were of Brian’s progeny, such as Michael and Stephanie who lounged on the white leather sofa, touching and making eyes at each other. Who knew that two Vampires could love, especially love one another? Disgust warred with astonishment and Corbie slid his study onto Orchid who was speaking with his other flower – Rose. A smile quirked his thin lips, everyone was here to witness Corbie’s revenge against the Angel and thus the Chosen.

  No longer would the Chosen be able to cower behind the Angel’s skirts. Tonight would usher in a new age of dominance where Corbie would be truly free of the Chosen’s threatening presence. He would be able to take back what was rightfully his. It was time to pursue, in full measure, the destruction of the Chosen and the domination of the humans, placing them properly in the food chain. Let the Chosen hide, for the moment, across the Pond. One day soon the Vampires would cross the Atlantic and finish what Bastia had intended – the decimation of the Chosen.

  The door opened and Corbie’s right hand walked in. Their eyes connected across the room and Brian nodded at the unspoken question. It was time. The room grew still as Corbie stood, all eyes turning to the Dominus.

  “You all know why you are here,” stated Corbie. Many Vampires nodded while others, like his beautiful Rose, smiled maliciously. “Tonight we humiliate and destroy the creature that sent us fleeing to these untouched shores. For that we thank the Angel by giving back what we took from him. Since he cannot give back what he took from us we will take it from him.” Snickers flitted through the room. “It is time to take our destiny into our own hands. Everyone here knows what he or she is to do, let’s do it.”

>   Brian opened the door to let the Vampires prepare themselves.

  “Not you, Rose,” called Corbie.

  Rose halted and frowned at her Dominus.

  “It’s alright, Brian.” Corbie raised a stilling hand as his second was about to close the door to stay with Corbie and Rose. “You can go and oversee that everyone is where they are supposed to be.”

  Brian inclined his head and left, sealing the room behind him. Rose walked over to Corbie and the sword that glittered in the darkness. “Why are you keeping me from this?” she demanded, hands on her green skirted hips.

  “I’m not,” said Corbie. He stood and walked around the desk to meet her floral green eyes. He loved to see the angry spark flare to life before being extinguished by his generosity. “You are given the honour of presenting the sword to the Angel.”

  “Really?”

  Rose’s stunned visage almost made Corbie smile and he nodded. “Most definitely. This is what I want you to do …”

  Chapter XXXVI

  It was nearly time for his meeting with the Vampires and the slice of pizza and can of soda sat like lead in his gut. It had been a quick choice that proved the wrong one. For all the foods he had to consume now that he was mortal this had been, by far, the meal that had made him most crave to be Chosen again.

  He rounded the corner and halted, anger tightening is pale features as he saw the dark haired Vampire leaning against the trunk of the black limousine. He would have to find another way around to the back of the club.

  Careful not to draw the Vampire’s attention he backed up before turning around and was surprised when he bumped into someone. The girl, all dressed in ragged and mismatched clothing, attempted to walk past him but he knew a pick-pocket when being fleeced by one.

  He thought about letting her go with his possessions, but it was just one more thing that someone was trying to take from him. Before she could disappear into the night his hand shot out and grabbed her arm, spinning her around.