Sins of the Father (12 page)

“Yes, it was.” Kael looked at Conran. “If you were hoping for some action, I’m not in the mood. You have to make arrangements in advance for that.”

A deep blush crept over Conran’s face. He adjusted his already perfectly positioned tie and cleared his throat. “No, I came to speak to you about work.” He glanced at Angel.

“All right,” Kael said. “But first, who do you know in government who went to Cambridge?”

“I don’t know offhand, but it’s easy enough to find out. Why?”

“I want someone with clout to write a letter of recommendation for Angel. The headmaster at Redmond thinks he won’t get in with no history of expensive, fancy schools or a genius level IQ.”

“Daddy! Jesus Christ!” Angel screamed, throwing the toast across the room and rising on his knees to face Kael. “When are you going to quit on this? I’m not going to fucking Cambridge.”

Kael grabbed him so fast, pulling him to his feet and landing several hard slaps on his buttocks, that he had no time to escape. Angel screamed at the indignity. Conran shifted about in his chair, looking very uncomfortable. With his arms around Angel’s waist, Kael lifted him off his feet, carrying the struggling boy to the dungeon. Even in good health, Angel was no match for Kael’s strength, but he was still weak from whatever he had taken the day before and Kael carried him easily. While Angel continued to struggle, Kael pushed him into the standing cage and closed the gate, snapping the padlock closed.

Grabbing the bars, Angel pulled on them like a protesting prisoner in a movie, but the words he uttered in a sobbing voice were more like those of a hurt child. “I hate you! I hate you!”

Without looking back, Kael strode out of the dungeon and closed the door. The soundproofed room effectively shut out the boy’s cries. Standing to catch his breath, he waited for a minute before entering the living room again. As much as anything, he was embarrassed knowing Conran must have heard Angel screaming “I hate you.”

Before sitting down, Kael poured two glasses of whisky, drank his own, and handed the other to Conran. “Kids, what would you do with them?” he said with half a laugh.

Conran sipped his whisky. “Was that a serious question?”

Throwing himself down on the couch, his long legs stretched out in front, Kael said, “What do you mean?”

“You said, ‘Kids, what would you do with them?’ Are you asking my advice, or was that rhetorical?”

Looking into Conran’s serious, pale blue eyes, Kael realized this might just be a good time to get some advice. Conran crossed his legs, holding his drink in front of him.
A defensive posture, drawing himself in, in case I don’t react well
. With a quick assessment of his body, a thing he did routinely on a job, Kael found that his heart was still beating fast, his breath was slightly short, and his adrenaline was high. He sat straight, took several cleansing breaths, and felt calmer. He shrugged. “Go ahead. Advise me.”

“I think you should listen to him.”

At once Kael’s muscles tensed. It took half a second to calm himself again. He didn’t want to be told that Angel had a right to his feelings. “You offered to take him into SIS even though he’s not old enough yet. You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Training, that’s all I meant. I’d hardly send him out on assignments before he was ready, but he’s got talent.”

“Tell me about it. I just locked him in the standing cage with a padlock on the bars. He’s like Houdini. He can get out of anything.”

“Really? That’s handy.” The look of interest on Conran’s face made Kael wish he hadn’t mentioned it. “Angel’s clever like you, Saunders, but without your ruthlessness.”

“That’s the problem. To do what I do, you have to be ruthless.”

Conran nodded. “He wouldn’t make a good assassin. I’ve never had that in mind for him. Why not let him at least take a gap year and do some training in intelligence gathering?”

“I want him to go to Cambridge like I did.”

Conran took a mouthful of whisky before saying, “I’d like my three to all go to Oxford since I went there, but Rupert, the eldest, will never go. Annabelle is the brightest of the three.”

“The schools they go to before they get to university are half the battle. The headmaster at Redmond admitted that much to me. Are you going to send your boys to College Grange?”

“Yes, they’ll go there.” Looking into his glass, Conran said quietly, “But Rupert has learning disabilities. He’s a couple of years behind his peers.”

“Oh, I didn’t know,” Kael said. “Sorry.” He had seen all three of Conran’s children over the years, but he had never spent any time with them. “He looks normal enough.”
That wasn’t a good thing to say.

“It’s not the end of the world, and yes, he’s physically healthy and very handsome. But he had a difficult birth, and the doctor thinks it’s from that. We have to adjust our expectations, that’s all. Find out what he’s good at and focus on that. Rupert is not me, and Angel is not you. They have to be themselves.”

“I know, but I want the best for Angel.”

“You know, Saunders, I was very nervous about you having a relationship of any kind. It’s really not good for a man in your position, but when I realized who Angel is, his talents, his intelligence, I knew it was safe. Despite the way he behaves sometimes, he’s very mature.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Kael blew air out hard between his lips. “He’s been acting like a five-year-old the last few days.”

“Some of your behaviors could be construed that way as well at times.” Conran licked his upper lip, a nervous gesture Kael had noted over the years.

“I see,” was all he said in response.

“Angel has come through on no less than two occasions in life-threatening situations. If he throws the odd tantrum or acts like a typical teenager on occasion, I think you should forgive him.”

Pondering Conran’s words, Kael watched the man. Conran had got to know him very well over the years, Kael admitted to himself, and especially over the last year and a half. He too had to be a good judge of character to know who would make a good intelligence operative and who would make an unconscionable killer. “Perhaps you’re right. I’ll think about it. In the meantime, I want a letter of recommendation from a high-ranking MP. No backbenchers. Pull some strings for me.” He paused before adding, “I’ll make it worth your while.”

Conran nodded briefly, looking off to one side, his cheeks coloring. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Realizing with shock that he had just whored himself out, Kael went to the polished glass-and-oak sideboard to pour another whisky. Looking at Conran’s glass, he went over and topped it up. How desperate was he to get his own way in this?

Businesslike again, and slightly angry and confused by his own behavior, he said, brusquely, “Now, what did you want?”

Conran waited until Kael was comfortably seated again before saying, “Romodanovsky will be back in the country next week. This time he’ll be meeting with the home secretary, probably something about crime in Russia. That’s irrelevant to you. The meetings will be held at Dorneywood this time. Romodanovsky has asked very specifically for you as his minder.”

“Me?” Kael had only just succeeded in getting that man out of his head. Distracted by Angel, Kael had let the Russian drift from his mind. He never expected to see him again, except perhaps on TV. “That’s a surprise. I smacked him at Downing Street.”

Conran’s eyes widened in horror, and he shifted in his seat. “That cut under his eye? My God! I assumed he’d been dipping into the vodka and stumbled.” The words came out in a stammering rush. “Good God, Saunders. What’s the matter with you? That man is very powerful, and that’s aside from his political power. His wealth and family connections are enough on their own.”

The memory of the man kissing him filled his head with all the shock and sensuality of the moment. The knowledge that not so long ago he would have taken what was on offer surfaced also. “He made a pass at me.”

“No!” Conran said, his face creasing with what could have been shock or disgust.

“Yes,” Kael said.

“But he’s a married man.”

“So are you.”

“Yes, well,” Conran muttered, sinking deeper into his armchair and looking away. “Why didn’t you take him up on it?”

“I would have before Angel. He’s a handsome man, and he’s in great shape considering he’s over sixty.” Kael nodded in the general direction of the dungeon. “I don’t have sex with anyone except my boy, but I’ll continue to do you a favor here and there. Angel says he’s good with it.”

“He wouldn’t tell anyone, would he?”

“No. You’re the one who keeps telling me how mature he is. And he really likes you, though God knows why.”

Conran smiled. “Yes, God knows.”

“Anyway I’m not a bodyguard, remember.”

“There are others who could do it and whom I would normally give the detail to. But he requested you. Perhaps he wants another go at you…you know, see if he can get you interested in him this time. It’s only for a couple of days.” Conran hesitated for a brief moment. “Take Angel and give him some on-the-job training. His precision with firearms is an asset, and his batlike eyesight is very useful. The job isn’t dangerous. He could learn a lot. I’ll assign you Thornton as well since she worships you.”

That made Kael smile, especially since it brought back her asking him for advice about dating. As if he’d know anything about what straights did. Both men’s gazes were drawn to the door when Angel said, “Daddy, I’m sorry.”

“See, I told you,” Kael said to Conran. “Harry fucking Houdini.” Angel took a step into the room, his chin sunk onto his chest. “Come here,” Kael said.

Like a young gazelle, Angel crossed the room in a few leaps and was in his lap in an instant, cuddled up like a babe in arms, his long legs drawn into his belly. Kael held him close to his chest, one hand resting on Angel’s hip, uncaring what Conran thought. Though when he glanced at the man, he saw a gentle look of longing on his face.

“What does that say on his buttocks?” Conran asked.

“Slave.” Kael smiled. “It’s from an impression paddle.”

“I’ve seen those on the Internet,” Conran whispered, his breath short.

For a long moment, Kael watched him, seeing the color rise to Conran’s cheeks. There was a definite bulge at the crotch of his smart trousers. “What would your wife say if she saw ‘slave’ on your arse with a nice dark bruise?”

The man’s reluctance to answer had to be because of Angel’s presence. Kael kissed his boy’s cheek. “Go and get into bed now, sweetheart. Daddy will come soon.”

Angel obeyed at once, kissing Conran again before he left.

“What would she say, Stephen?”

“Believe it or not, Portia is very understanding, which is why I told you that she and I are perfectly suited. How could she not have seen me bruised before now? We sleep together every night. She understands I have certain needs she cannot fulfill.”

Kael chuckled. “Did you tell her you come to me for a thrashing?”

“Of course not! She doesn’t ask, and I don’t talk about it. I told her at the beginning of our marriage that I like…well, you know. After that it’s never been discussed. She’s not as bad as you think she is. She’s a good mother.”

Kael rose. “Come on. I’m going to make you happy.”

Following him into the dungeon, Conran waited for instruction. Kael took the impression paddle from the box. “Come here and look at this.”

Breathing hard, Conran fingered the beautiful paddle. “It’s lovely.”

“One strike, very hard, will produce the word on your arse. One hellishly painful strike. Do you want it?”

Conran’s hands were shaking and the bulge in his trousers had swelled as he bit on his lower lip. “Yes please, Sir.”

Neither undressing nor bothering to lock the door, Kael rubbed his chin as if pondering his next move. It was part of the show. He knew exactly what he planned to do. “Take off your jacket and drop your trousers, boy.”

Conran removed his jacket quickly but was hardly able to manage his zipper because his hands were shaking so hard, and he struggled to get his trousers open. Finally he pushed them down to his knees and stood waiting, looking anxiously at Kael.

“Toddle over to the horse,” Kael ordered. Conran obeyed, walking awkwardly with his trousers restricting his knees and his dark red cock jutting out. Coming up behind him, Kael pushed Conran forward by the shoulders so that he was bent at the waist. Then he positioned the man’s feet slightly apart, and his arms stretched out along the horse. “Perfect! Good boy, Stephen.”

The man’s short, heavy breaths filled the silent dungeon. As he had done with Angel, Kael said, “On a count of three, I’ll do it. One, two, three!” The
crack
of the paddle on Conran’s arse was incredibly loud, but the man himself hardly uttered a sound, just a deep, long
ommm
coming up from his belly and out of his open mouth. Stepping back, Kael looked at Conran’s cock, which was still hard. Quickly he fetched a dildo and slathered it with K-Y. “Don’t move, boy.”

Without ceremony or finesse, Kael shoved the dildo into Conran’s rectum and reamed him mercilessly until the man’s cum shot out onto the floor and his body jerked spasmodically. Having done his work, Kael stepped back to look. Limp and panting, Conran rested his upper torso on the horse. His arse was scarlet from the paddle and would soon bruise beautifully. Giving him a minute to recover, Kael cleaned the dildo with care and put away the paddle. Returning to Conran, he handed him a roll of paper towels. “Clean up your mess.”

Obeying at once, Conran wiped his semen off the floor and then pulled his trousers up. “Thank you,” he said very quietly.

“You’re welcome. Now get me that letter.” With his arm around Conran’s shoulders, he walked with him to the door.

“Yes, I’ll get it, and please think about what I said about the Dorneywood job and Angel.”

“I will.”

A moment stretched between them until Kael reached across Conran to open the door, but as he did so, Conran wrapped his arms around Kael’s chest and held on to him, hugging tightly. Impatient, but at the same time feeling a touch of affection for the man, Kael held him for a moment before easing him away. “Go home.”