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Authors: Fyn Alexander

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Be Brave

BOOK: Be Brave
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Angel and the Assassin:

Be Brave

Fyn Alexander

www.loose-id.com

Angel and the Assassin: Be Brave

Copyright © April 2011 by Fyn Alexander

All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No

part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or

electronic form without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC. Please do not

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author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

eISBN 978-1-60737-999-7

Editor: Judith David

Cover Artist: Justin James

Printed in the United States of America

Published by

Loose Id LLC

PO Box 425960

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www.loose-id.com

This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical

events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either

the product of the author"s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any

resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or

locales is entirely coincidental.

Warning

This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be

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Chapter One

Herstmonceux Castle, East Sussex, England

“Daddy, exactly where are we going and what are we going to do there?”

Kael Saunders steered the small, unobtrusive car along the A23 to

Herstmonceux Village. The high hedgerows on either side of the narrow, two-lane

road obscured the view ahead, and he hit the horn each time they came to a sharp

bend. “There"s a castle owned by a Canadian university up the road past the village.

It"s on five hundred acres, and they let us use it for outdoor classes. Survival skills,

that sort of thing.”

Kael had made the decision some time ago to tell Angel that he worked for the

Secret Intelligence Service, MI6. Angel was a smart boy and could be trusted to

keep his mouth shut. He would never do anything that might endanger his daddy.

But the rule was, ask no questions.

They drove through the small, quaint village and continued on until the red

brick castle rose up from the landscape. “There it is.”

“Holy King Arthur"s court! That is beautiful,” Angel said, and Kael laughed.

He drove onto the grounds and up the hill into the car park, where a ten-seater

van was just leaving. Milling about talking to each other were seven men and one

woman, and beside them were five rolled-up tents and ten identical backpacks.

Several of the men were tall like Kael, though none matched his six feet five inches.

They were all well built, muscular, strong-looking men, and every one of them had a

crew cut or buzz cut. “Oh my God. It"s like a night out at a leather bar.” Angel

laughed.

“In your dreams. How many leather bars have you been to, boy?”

“Only the ones you"ve taken me to, Daddy. Will we be staying in the castle?”

Angel"s beautiful gray eyes were wide with excitement; his boyish enthusiasm

always made Kael smile.

“No. We"re staying in pup tents in the wood over on the north side. It"s called

the Azalea Walk.”

A look of disappointment flitted across Angel"s face, quickly replaced by

resignation. “How picturesque,” he said.

“Angel.” Kael looked at the boy he had fallen in love with a mere six months

ago—the boy he was supposed to have killed. “Do not call me Daddy this weekend. I

2

Fyn Alexander

am Sir at all times. I"ve never met this group, but I have to weed out the cowards,

the idiots, and the insane, not to mention the men from the boys—and that includes

the woman. They must know nothing about my private life or yours.”

“Yes, Sir.”

They got out of the car. Angel went without instruction to the boot to take out

their leather jackets and water while Kael stood about ten feet away from the

group. The woman emerged from behind one of the men, dwarfed by his size just as

Angel, with his slender five-feet-eight frame, was dwarfed by Kael. For a moment,

Kael stopped to suck in a breath. She reminded him of Misha, but this girl had

blonde hair and Misha"s had been dark. The young woman smiled when their eyes

met. Kael did not return her smile. He would not get friendly with anyone in the

group.

Quickly he assessed them, spotting who the friends were and who didn"t like

each other. One man, broad and muscular but not much taller than Angel, had a

ruddy complexion, a sign of alcohol abuse or perhaps a dicky heart. Another man,

no more than nineteen or twenty years old, walked with an overconfident swagger:

a sure sign that he overestimated his own abilities. The woman looked happy just

being there and eager to get on with the work.

It was a cold morning in February, and the group, attired in dark clothing,

wore jackets and hats. Kael wore a black lightweight but very warm pullover, dark

jeans, and black Doc Martens. Angel handed him his leather jacket, which he pulled

on and zipped up. Angel wore the same, and when Kael pulled a black woolen hat

over his shaved head, Angel copied. “Keep your jacket fastened up, boy. Avoid

getting cold because it"ll be hard to warm up again with staying outdoors all

weekend.”

“Yes, Sir.” Angel obeyed at once, not only because he recognized Kael as his

dom, but because he trusted him completely. “Sir, if this is for your work, why was I

allowed to come?”

“Conran suggested I bring you. I"d refused the assignment because it was a

weekend.”

“Because you didn"t want to leave me, Sir?”

He looked down at Angel, unsmiling in case anyone saw. “That"s right.” He

didn"t give a shit who knew he was gay. But they didn"t need to know Angel was his

and that he loved him; that would make Kael vulnerable.

Kael looked at his students. “Get over here!” The group stood to attention

momentarily and then hurried toward him to stand quietly. His raised voice had

succeeded in making them nervous, which was exactly what he wanted. “My name

is Sir, and that is what you will call me every time you look at me. How many of you

have been in the armed forces?” Two men and the woman raised their hands. “Good.

You"ll find it easy to remember. The others will get a smack if they forget. Are we

clear?”

“Yes, sir,” they chorused.

Angel and the Assassin: Be Brave

3

“Excellent. Pick up the tents and packs and start walking north.”

“Yes, sir!”

Angel brought Kael his pack, but the other men were already carrying the

tents.

With Kael leading the way, the group walked for about twenty-five minutes

until Kael told them to stop in the woods. “There are five tents, two people to each

tent. Start pitching them in a circle. We make a fire in the middle.” He helped Angel

pitch one of the tents, mainly to show him how.

When the tents were up and a fire pit was constructed and ready to light later,

Kael had everyone sit on the ground. He watched where they sat and who they felt

comfortable with. Two of the men had marched side by side to the woods, and they

sat together now, so he decided to separate them. They were obviously straight, but

they wanted to be together. “You”—Kael pointed to one of the men—“will share a

tent with him.” He pointed at another man. “Move now.” Kael"s anger flared with

the man"s hesitation. “Oh. I"m sorry. Did you want to be with your friend?” His tone

dripped with sarcasm. The man moved quickly, his cheeks flushing. Kael proceeded

to split up the pairs, assigning the woman to the burly, red-faced man.

“Sir,” the woman said. She was tiny and adorable. “You haven"t asked our

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