Angel Manor (Lucifer Falls Book 1) (10 page)

The minibus buzzed with voices and laughter. The young men referred to themselves as ‘Chancers’. They were a rough bunch, and Logan wouldn’t normally have picked the combination of these six young males in particular, but John had insisted it was time to teach them the ropes on a bigger project. Up until two days ago, seven guys had been picked for the project, but Tyrell Jones, Terrence’s brother, hadn’t shown up. The two brothers were his biggest concern, and Logan had decided not to wait for Tyrell to show his face. He would get another chance down the line as soon as Logan found a way to make the young man feel the consequences of his absence. It was one less troublemaker to worry about, and Logan knew that if he could keep Terrence Jones and Roger Mace in check, the other four would be a cakewalk.

He shifted in his seat and looked at his crew. They ranged from eighteen to twenty, all kids who had felt too little love in their hard young lives and now stood on the brink of adulthood. Logan himself remembered what it was like, and if he hadn’t been saved by a project much like this one, he would probably have ended up in jail, or worse. He loved these boys and he understood them, but he was a strict mentor and took no shit from any of them. They loved him for it, he knew, and he was always happy to see another youngster fly the nest. Logan was only twenty-eight himself, but he sometimes felt like he’d lived a hundred years already.

“Put that cigarette away, Terrence.” He glared at the black guy who smiled at him with an unlit filter cigarette between his straight teeth. “You light that and there will be hell to pay.”

Terrence seemed to contemplate his words for a moment, but then he took the cigarette from his mouth with a dramatic gesture and crammed it back in the almost empty packet.

“So, no love for a fellow London boy then, Logan? Is that how it’s going to be?”

“Rules are rules, Terrence. Doesn’t matter where you’re from.”

Terrence wasn’t a bad kid. Logan liked him more than his brother, but he came from a terrible home and all he knew was how to fight. The only way he knew how to get attention was by acting out. His mother was a junkie who’d tried to clean up her life when she’d left London and moved to Edinburgh. There, she met the boys’ new stepfather, who was a good for nothing son of a bitch who liked to beat both of them bloody. Terrence and Tyrell lived more on the streets than they did in their own home, and Logan often found them a place to stay during the internships. It would be good for Terrence to be away from his stepfather, and Logan decided it might be a blessing in disguise that he would also be away from his brother for a bit. He was intelligent, and Logan hoped he could convince Terrence to do a bit of side-study at some point. First, however, he needed to learn some discipline. All these guys did.

The boys leaned against the seats, bored and sluggish after several hours’ driving. The play fights had died down a bit, and now they were just talking. Two had even fallen asleep. The weather made the minibus hot, and even Jim McLeod, the third mentor, snored softly in his seat. His bald head sagged forwards, and his thick, red beard rested on his ample chest.

“You need a break from driving soon?” Logan peered at John, who shifted in his seat for the fifth time in less than a minute.

“Naw, I’m okay. Me back is just acting up. Can’t wait to get there.”

“Yeah, I wonder what the boys will make of it.”

“They’ll be gutted that there’s no pub nearby.”

“The first few weeks they’ll be too tired to want to go to a pub. We’ll wear them out. And we’ll provide some entertainment at the weekends. Plus, they get to go home for a weekend every fortnight.”

John shook his head and gave Logan a sad glance.

“Naw, lad, most of them won’t want to go home. You know that.”

“Still, got to give them the option.” Logan leaned back and looked out of the window. Nothing but green hills and blue sky. He loved being away from the city. One day, he wanted to build a house of his own and get away from it all, maybe fall in love and get married… a wife and a kid… a few animals. It would be living the dream. He closed his eyes, and the picture of the girl with the black hair appeared in his mind.
What was her name again? Freya?
He thought of her flushed face, those big grey eyes and the curves on her body, and for a moment, he imagined what it would be like to unbutton her cotton shirt to reveal the flesh beneath. Then Angus Reid and Lyndon Farrow tore him from his daydream with loud laughter. They stood, Lyndon half-leaned over the seat, punching each other in the arms.

“Settle down you two,” Logan snapped, and when they didn’t respond, he raised his voice. “Oi! Settle the fuck down.”

The guys sank back into their seats, each still chuckling. Logan turned around again, but the fantasy of the pretty girl with the black hair was ruined, and he felt a little agitated.

***

The countryside looked dull to nineteen-year-old Terrence Jones. He was still angry with his older brother for skipping out on the project. It wasn’t like Tyrell to not even let him know that he was going to cop out, and though he would never admit it to himself, Terrence was actually a little worried. The prospect of being away from his stepfather was the only good thing about this whole trip, but he had never been away from Tyrell for long and he hoped that Logan would allow his brother to join them later on. Sure Tyrell was a stupid fuck for not being there, and he knew that Logan was angry, but he also knew that Logan was an all right kind of bloke.

Another thing that Terrence didn’t like was that the house they were supposed to be fixing up was in the middle of nowhere. On a fucking island, no less. How much worse could it get? There would be little chance of finding nice looking birds on an island, Terrence had decided, and he’d probably only have old fogey pubs to hang out in. Logan had told them that they would be camping too, until the place was cleared up enough for them to sleep in. Terrence didn’t mind camping. He’d spent enough nights on the streets of Edinburgh, sleeping on cardboard, to be able to rough it out anywhere. Most of the guys in their crew had been homeless at one point or another.

He looked out his window as they drove up a steep hill, and in the distance he saw the large looming shape of Angel Manor.

“That’s a fucking big house.” Mason Applebaum pointed at the window, and all the guys got up from their seats and moved to get a first glance.

“Is that it, Mr Norris?” Gary Feltman asked.

“That’s it. Angel Manor.”

“Whoever lives there has to be well rich,” Angus muttered. “That looks like a castle.” There were more mutterings in agreement, but Terrence felt a pang of annoyance.

“Don’t be stupid. That’s a mansion, not a castle.” He flicked Angus across his mousy brown locks and made a hissing noise between his teeth.

“Fuck you.”

“That’s enough.” Logan’s voice cut across the bus, and Terrence felt his temper settle down.

“That’s the house that we’re turning into a hotel. Yes it’s big, so it’ll be hard work. I need you guys to be on your best behaviour.”

“Och, we know the speech,” Roger muttered from the back of the minibus, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Well then, I’ll save giving it to you again.” Logan looked at each of the young men and let his gaze linger on Terrence a little longer than on the others. “Three strikes and you’re out: I ship you back home. This will be a wonderful opportunity for you to learn some skills…”

“Oh aye. I got me some mad skills,” quipped Lyndon Farrow, while he half got to his feet and grabbed his crotch. All the boys laughed in response.

“I’m sure you know how to work your tool, Lyndon; just keep it in your pants please. No one wants to see it.” More laughter and a few jeers, and Lyndon sat down again, shaking his head. “Like I said, this will be a good project for all of you. From here, you could go on to work for actual construction companies. This will look great on your CV.”

Terrence had thought about his future a lot. It wasn’t something he’d even considered before he’d joined the Chancers, but he found he liked the idea of having one. The thought of a good job with a steady pay check was appealing, maybe a little flat all to himself… or he could share it with his brother. It was all good, and he could get away from that white gob-shite, Paul. He might even leave Edinburgh, go back to London… or move somewhere else altogether. He liked having possibilities.

He looked at the house. It was big like Mason had said, and it was beautiful. Terrence imagined what it would be like living in a place like that, and he pictured himself in a swanky suit with an FHM girl on each arm. The closer they got to the house, however, the images of busty females faded and he began to feel uncomfortable. Something was off about the mansion. Sure, it was all yellow stones and sunshine on the outside, but somehow it didn’t feel very welcoming, as if the building itself were judging him. The window of the bus felt cold against his skin, and Terrence wrapped his arms around himself, his eyes never leaving Angel Manor.

***

“I think I saw a van pull up on the driveway.” Bam peered around the door into the kitchen, her hair falling over her face. “We should go greet them.”

Freya nodded and got to her feet. “Have you called Oliver?”

“He’s seen them. Told me to come and get you.”

“Okay.” Freya put her cup in the sink and rinsed it so the tea wouldn’t stain.

“Frey?” Bam looked at her with big eyes and a guilty expression.

“What?” Freya raised her eyebrows and put the cup upside down on the counter to dry. “What’s bugging you?”

“Remember when I went out yesterday?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I did a bit of research… on… on psychics.” Bam’s voice was barely above a whisper and Freya opened her mouth to object, but her friend held up her hands in defence. “Hear me out. This woman and her team are very respectable, and they could just check out the house to find out if there is anything here. I called her and she said she was interested in this house.”

“No, Bam… just no.” Freya shook her head. “Psychics are charlatans. We’re not going to be paying con-men.”

“She doesn’t want money.”

“I don’t care what she wants. For fuck’s sake, you’re taking this ghost thing too far. Oliver is right…” She stopped her words when she saw the hurt expression on Bam’s face.

“Just think about it, okay?” Bam handed her a piece of paper with scribbles on it in blue ink. “This is her number, in case you change your mind.”

Freya took the paper and considered throwing it away, but instead she put it in the top drawer, closing it with a firm movement. “Okay.”

Bam nodded and left the room with Freya following her, feeling a little anxious about meeting the work crew.

They don’t look so bad.
Freya eyed the six young men who stood shoulder to shoulder in the entrance hall.
They’re just kids.
Some of them looked close to being her own twenty-five years of age, but a few of the boys hardly looked old enough to shave. Their clothes were old and a little dirty. The way they stood, eyes wide and mouths a little slack, staring at the grandeur of Angel Manor, she could almost relate to them. When she was younger she had known those feelings well.

She’d hoped she would be a little more resistant to their mentor’s good looks, but when Logan Masters shook her hand, her knees turned to jelly again. The thought of having him around was both exciting and terrifying, and Freya fought hard to hide the blush she felt creeping into her cheeks whenever he looked her way.

Don’t be such a silly little girl. It’s not like you’ve never seen handsome men before,
she chided herself. But this guy was different in some way, and butterflies swarmed in her stomach like locusts.

Freya stepped forward and offered each of them her hand. Two of them, a pale kid with reddish hair and a guy with dark skin, shot her leery, appreciative looks that made her skin crawl.

One of the mentors, a stout Scot with muscular shoulders and a big red beard, cleared his throat. “We’ll set up camp outside the house.”

“Camp?” Freya looked at him with surprise. “This is a big house. We can make space for nine people…”

“Thank you, Miss. When we finish some of the rooms in the other wings, we’ll gladly make use of them, but for now we’ll stay outside. We don’t want to get in your way.”

“You won’t be in our way. The West Wing is large enough to share. It’s not in the same state as the rest of the house, and there are rooms upstairs.”

“With all due respect, I don’t think it would be a good idea to have boys in the same wing as you, Miss.”

Freya’s eyes flicked to the red-haired guy who’d leered at her, and she saw a look in his pale blue eyes that she didn’t like.

“Oh.” Her skin ran cold and she hugged herself, pulling her gaze away from him.
This was such a bad idea.

The big man obviously saw something in her face, and he waved his hands in an apologetic gesture. “No need to worry, Miss. Honest, these are good boys. But they might be rowdy, especially at night. We like to have them where we can keep an eye on them. That’s all. They won’t harm you in any way. They wouldn’t dare.”

“I understand,” she responded. A sense of relief washed over her when she saw the shadows of Oliver and Bam stand in the doorway. “Here are my partners in crime now.” She winced at the word
crime
; it had slipped from her mouth before she’d realised it. She laughed sheepishly to cover up for her mistake, but nobody seemed to have noticed.

“This is Oliver Jardin, and this is Bambi Green.” One of the boys, Freya couldn’t see which, whistled through his teeth. There were more leery looks, and Freya felt her stomach drop. Bam just giggled and shook their hands. She wore a tight, white Breeders T-shirt that stretched across her silicone breasts and a pair of cut-off jean-shorts that revealed just a hint of the rounded cheeks of her buttocks. Her hair was done up in a playful ponytail, and Freya saw the appreciation in the young men’s eyes. It took all of Freya’s self-restraint not to slap her hand over her eyes and sigh.

“So many boys to keep us company,” Bam crooned, and Freya saw from the way she wiggled her hips when she walked that she was savouring the attention.