Shadow of Death: Book Two of the Chosen Chronicles (46 page)

In the shadowed darkness of the bedroom he managed to sit, his hand pressed against bandages that bound his broken ribs. With slow movements he carefully slipped on his black shirt and jacket that had been left at the foot of the bed. He noticed the bandage on his hand as it shook, working the buttons. He wanted
to stop and rest but the familiar voices drew him to stand, slipping
on his black leather boots. Carefully and quietly he made his way out of the room and came to a frozen stance at the end of the hall.

Notus was there!

And was telling Bridget and Fernando stories he had kept from him!

Jealousy thudded his heart.
How could he?
he silently wailed.
Why had Notus never told him? And now the monk was revealing
all to others rather than to him. The pain of Notus betrayal cut even deeper as he stood still, listening to what other secrets his former Chooser divulged about him.

Shame and hurt filled his eyes with tears as coldness constricted his heart. He had thought that Notus stayed with him for love but the discovery of that lie choked him on bitter bile. It explained so much as to why Notus refused to Choose him again. It was when the monk mentioned a sister that he found his breath, anger fuelling him as he stepped into the room.

“Sister?”

The sparsely lit room dimmed except for the light around the monk who slowly stood, his face blanched with shock.

“I had a–a sister?” He advanced, ignorant to the pain of his broken ribs.

Bridget and Fernando rose in unison. Her youthful beauty marred with sympathy as her Chosen’s twisted with wry amusement.

“You never told me,” he cried, dismissing the other Chosens presence. “Why?” He did not need Notus to tell him. A sinking weight nearly drove him to his knees.
My mother had a son that died before the madness took her. I wish he could have been you
.
 He heard Eira’s long deceased voice, the revelation driving the breath from his lungs in an exhalation of her name. He did not care that Notus winced at the utterance.

“I had a sister and you kept this from me?” Hurt and anger vied for supremacy.

“She swore me to secrecy,” implored the monk.

“What else have you kept from me?” he demanded. Bridget stepped towards him as he advanced on Notus. She quickly backed away from his angry glare. Returning his gaze on the man who he had loved as a father, he witnessed Notus wilt in defeat.

Disgust filled him. He wanted to scream, to shout, and to do anything to release the devastation and fury that clutched at his broken heart. Instead he made his usual decision. He raked his tear filled eyes over the immortals and fled, slamming the door behind him. The resonating sound boomed after him as he ran down the hall.

“Well that went brilliantly.” Fernando collapsed into the soft padded chair, an annoyed smirk warping his face.

Notus sat stiffly, as if his body betrayed great age, and rested his head in his hands, elbows braced upon his knees.

“I think that persuading you to Choose the Angel again is moot,” said Fernando sarcastically. “I doubt he’d even take the Choice again if offered. Well, monk, you got your wish. Your Oath is intact.”

“Fernando!” gasped Bridget in response to Notus’ pain ridden groan.

“What?” snapped the Noble. “What did you expect?”

Bridget frowned. “Fernando, go after him. Please.”

“What for?” he demanded, crossing his arms over his chest. “I see no way to salvage this disaster.”

“Because he is our friend and he has the right to know that
we
have not abandoned him.”

The Noble closed his eyes to her worry and shook his head.

“Fernando,” she continued, coming to stand before him. “You are his friend.”

“And you think he’ll listen to me?” He opened his eyes to take in her beauty despite her concern.

“We can only hope,” she sighed.

“Fine,” Fernando stood and added with a twisted smirk, “but you’re putting too much faith in my powers of persuasion. They never really worked very well on the Angel.”

“He’s no longer the Angel,” she said sadly.

Bridget’s statement widened the Noble’s eyes, the full implication
of his friend’s predicament finally driving home. It
was Fernando’s last chance, not only to maintain the second longest
connection he had with another, but a last chance to recover a valuable ally and weapon. Slipping past his Chooser he made a sound of disgust at the sight of the monk before grabbing his black leather jacket from the closet. Before reaching the door, he Sent,
What are you going to do with him?

I’m going to take a chapter from you and read him the riot act,
returned Bridget.

Too bad I can’t stay and watch.
A glint of amusement lit his eyes. Opening the door Fernando followed his absent friend, not knowing what to say when he found the exAngel.

Emotions swirled in a convoluted mixture, picking at pieces of a distant puzzle that clicked quickly into place revealing a picture that had stared him in the face without its true meaning until now. With each added fact new tears of anger, frustration and hurt blurred the real world into which he fled. The one question that fuelled everything else was why no one had ever told him that he had a family.

He escaped down University Avenue, passing the precipice that had forever changed his life. Just a couple of short hours   before dawn, the illuminated streets were virtually empty. He knew where his body went and left his mind and heart to piece together the truth about his past.

Eira was his sister!

That meant her children were his niece and nephew. She had also been in that grove when he was but a boy. Did that make his childhood tormentor and the others family? The thought made him sick, but it was the next piece that nearly felled him in the middle of the sidewalk.

If Eira was his sister then that meant Geraint was his father!

The realization stole a gasp as he bent over, clutching his burning ribs.

Geraint must have known but never told me. Why?
he silently implored. Then another thought hit him. It was Geraint who had given him up to die that winter night when he was just a babe. Anger and hatred mingled with ancient feelings of love for the father of his mortal existence. Behind it all confusion reigned.
Why was he abandoned? Why was he never claimed or recognized
by them?  He knew the answer as plainly as if he stood in front of a mirror. If they did not want him why did Geraint agree to teach him the warrior’s ways and why did Eira open her home to him and give him her father’s sword?

His father’s sword!

The sword that had trained him and had hung at his hip for centuries was his father’s sword. The same sword that the Vampires had stolen because Notus had insisted they come to these cursed lands. Notus had convinced him to give up the blade for the exhibit. Notus had known all along that it was originally Geraint’s and had kept secret the ties that bound him to a mortal life - that Geraint had been his father! The betrayal of both men, mortal and Chosen, burned but it was Notus’ that seared his soul and invoked more hurtful questions.

“Gwyn!”

The name that his father had warned him about and the name that his sister had bestowed upon him spun him around to face the Noble. He could not recall coming to stand beside the monument on the north end of Queen’s Park. Without a thought he wiped the tears away and demanded, “What do you want?”

Fernando halted, his eyes momentarily going wide before settling into a smoulder. “I want you to come back.”

“To what?” The ludicrous demand surprised him, especially coming from the Noble.  He turned to walk away only to find Fernando standing before him, arms crossed in agitation.

“You’re being an ass,” sneered the Noble as he gave him the once over. “Come back now and—”

“Come back?!” he exploded, bearing down on the Noble. All the anger he felt had found a target. He savoured Fernando’s   momentary flash of fear and stood to tower over him.

Recovering his composure Fernando matched his glare. “Back to the hotel, you idiot.”

“What for?” he spat the words at the Noble.

Fernando pursed his lips in an effort to keep his anger in check. “So you can talk–”

“Talk?” he yelled. “You want me to talk with that man. You want me to listen to his lies? I lived with them for years and didn’t know it! Now I do. I won’t listen to his fucking excuses.”
He tried to brush past the Noble only to find a bronze hand gripping
his arm.

“Let. Go. Of.  My. Arm,” he sneered through clenched teeth.

The threat hung in the suddenly chill air. When the cold hand released him he entered the treed park, leaving the Chosen behind him.

F
ernando took deep even breaths as he strode past the concierge and into an awaiting elevator. He did not even look at the tired bell hop that trundled a tray of breakfast edibles as they rose up the floors. It took all of his concentration to keep his rage under tight control. Fernando had expected a confrontation with the Angel, but he had wrongly assumed that he would win and the Angel would be with him now. He had also grossly underestimated the Angel since his new found mortality, yet it also proved another point. It was that fact that ignited fear in the Noble
’
s heart that transmuted into anger.

Impatiently tapping his foot, he realized he should have taken the stairs. He could have climbed them much faster than this mechanical device and would now be at his hotel suite, safely able to explode his anger. He almost sighed in relief as the doors opened to his floor. Ignoring the fact that a mortal shared the   elevator Fernando disappeared out of the lift and down the hall with preternatural speed.

With emotions boiling, Fernando slammed the door open,  ignoring Bridget
’
s cry of surprise as he easily picked the monk up off of the couch and slammed him into the wall, the wallpaper tearing as the drywall crumbled beneath.
“
You fucking selfish prig,
”
he sneered, enjoying the feel of his anger finally hitting a target. He ignored the fact that Notus pulled at his hand as he pinned the monk by the throat. Older or not, rage gave Fernando greater strength.
“
Do you realize what you’ve done?
”

“Fernando! Stop!” shouted Bridget. “I’
ve already given him a piece of my mind.
”

“That’
s not good enough,
”
spat the Noble. He leaned forward until he was a breath apart from the stunned Chosen.
“
You
’
ve lost the Chosen the only weapon we
’
ve ever had against the Vampires and worse you may have turned him against us.
”
He dropped the monk and turned away from him.

“What happened?” Bridget came up to him, horrified concern etched her face. “Fernando. What happened?”

Glancing over his shoulder at Notus who had slid to the floor and was rubbing his quickly healing bruised throat, Fernando replied,
“
It seems that the Angel is still the Angel, Chosen or not. Not only does he still react adversely to iron but he still fucking controls those fucking demons of his.
”