Angel of Death: Book One of the Chosen Chronicles (26 page)

It felt odd, yet so right. He felt the warmth of her body encompass him and her heartbeat felt good against him. All that he wanted to do was keep her safe and happy. It terrified him even as he held her until the violence of her sobbing subsided.

“Are you alright?” he asked, gently lifting her by the chin with a finger to face him, but not breaking the embrace. She looked so lovely despite the effects of her crying.
I could drown in those eyes.
The realization stunned him to the quick.

Taking a couple of shuddering inhalations, Jeanie shyly turned her gaze from his burning crimson eyes to his chest and slightly drew back.

“Och, look what I’ve done,” she sniffed. “I’ve gotten ye’re shirt all wet.” She laid a hand on his chest and drew it back when she realized what she had done.

A small smile lighted his features for a brief moment. It was so typical of Jeanie to worry over inconsequential things and yet so comforting.

“Are you alright?” he repeated, smile gone from his lips but not from his eyes.

Jeanie nodded and pulled back from the embrace, a frown bending her lips. “I thought ye’d never find me. I thought ye’d never look.”

Surprise and hurt vied for dominance over her admission. “Of course I looked,” he solicited. “How could I not?”

“But I thought –” Ashamed, she stared at the rush strewn floor as tears dripped down her face. Could she have been so wrong? She did not know what to think of the Angel any more. She just wanted to be in his embrace.

He laid his hands on her arms, causing Jeanie to look up at him. “I’m here now,” he said.

“If the two of you are finished, I think you ought to take a look at this,” called Fernando. He crouched by one of the barrels, his hand on a yellowed sheet of paper attached to it. To distance himself the embarrassing scene, the Noble had explored the contents of the room.

Moment dismissed by the taciturn declaration, the Angel lowered his eyes and his hands fell from Jeanie’s shoulders, surprised that he was missing the momentary connection and turned around. “What is it?”

“While the two of you were playing damsel in distress rescued by her knight in shining armour, I decided to be more useful.” Fernando stood studying the writing, paper now in hand. “This is the shipping order for these four barrels.” He looked up long enough to point them out. “There are no names for the contents except this one is called ‘One,’ this is ‘Two,’ that ‘Three,’ and the one over there is ‘Four.’” He lifted the lid off of ‘One’ and his brow lifted in surprise. Running his hand through the reddish brown powder, he grabbed a handful allowing the fine grains to slip between his fingers and fall back into the barrel. “What do you make of this?”

Intrigued at the discovery, he gave Jeanie an examining glance to see if she was all right and was returned by a sad frown before he walked to barrel ‘Three.’ Lifting the lid revealed a greenish powder. The Chosen looked at each other before moving to the other unopened barrels that yielded two other types of powder. The smells of each were pleasant and unknown.

“They are just seasonings,” he remarked, running his hand through ‘Two.’

“That’s a lot of just four kinds of spice,” responded the Noble. “They’re not even named. Most of this will probably go bad before they can use it all.”

Realization hit and he stated, “Not if these are the ones those two tried to force Tom and Alice to buy before torching the inn.”

“What?” Shocked out of her reverie by the news, Jeanie took a step towards the two men, her eyes filled with concern.

“Yes,” the Noble’s head bobbed excitedly, ignoring the girl. “That would mean…” He grabbed a handful of spice from ‘Four” and filled a pocket. “We need to take samples of these to make sure.”

Before he could nod in agreement, Jeanie shouted, “What did ye say?” Her voice trembled as she fastened her pleading gaze on him.

Both the Angel and Fernando stared mutely for a moment, remembering Jeanie’s presence. Fernando was the first to recover, going back to fill his pockets, mumbling in his native language, which, by the sounds of it were not complementary.

He shot the Noble a reproving glare and moved to the girl. “The
Rose and Thorn
burnt down earlier this evening. Arsoned by two men who tried to sell spices to Tom and Alice,” he quietly explained.

“Oh, my dear God.” Jeanie began to pace, trying not to cry again. She did not know if she had any tears left. Too much had happened too quickly and she was having difficulty making sense of things.

“Lily told me that you died in the fire.” He tried to keep the hurt from his voice as he watched Jeanie pace.

“Then how did ye find me?” She halted and stared into sad ruby eyes.

“A woman told us you were carried away just before the fire,” interrupted Fernando, now standing in the opened gaol with the other two.

Confusion filled her emerald eyes. “But that’s no possible.” Her gaze shifted between her two saviours. “I’ve been here all day.”

It was their turn to be confounded. “But she said she saw you carried away this evening,” he replied, pale brows furrowing.

“I dinna ken anythin’ ‘cept wakin’ here just after noon.”

The three of them stood silent for a moment before Fernando exploded. “
Carahlho!
What the bloody hell is going on?”

“The capture and disposal of the two of you.”

They spun at the voice and found several men coming down the stairs with drawn sabres. A gasp escaped from Jeanie’s trembling form as she found protection at the Angel’s side. Fernando’s face tightened in anger, more at himself for not having heard the approach of the men. His hands grasped the hilts of Yin and Yang. The Angel stared at the very deadly metal glinting in the dim light, his face drawn at the seriousness of the situation and the protection Jeanie expected from him. The man in front smiled, knowing he blocked the only exit. This fact was not lost on the three in the cage.

“I am quite surprised at how easily we managed. It took Sebastian over there quite a bit longer to get this far,” said the sandy blonde leader, smile still intact.

Fernando glanced over at the three limbs he previously ignored, blanched and swore at the pile that could possibly pass for ash.

“Now, if you please, relinquish your weapons.” Two men walked forward into the cage, sabres in hand, ready to take any arms presented.

“Not bloody likely,” growled Fernando, throwing the daggers into the approaching men just as the Angel pulled the door closed, forcing the dying men to stumble further into the cell.

He ordered Jeanie to get the lock that was lying in the rushes by the door. Holding the door took all his nerve as he saw the flash of metal descend towards his hands. He snatched them back in time as metal clanged against the metal of the lock as it snapped in place and the sabres impacted iron. Checking to see if he still had all his fingers, he sighed in relief and looked to Jeanie. Her face was full of worry and terror and there was nothing he could do. They were trapped.

“Get the key,” shouted the sandy blonde headed man. It was obvious he was ill pleased at the apparent loss of control.

“I can’t find ‘em,” replied another.

Realizing their dilemma, the Angel remembered where he had placed the keys. A quick search through the straw disclosed what the men were searching for. He held up the keys, jingling them a bit to get their captors attention. Fernando, having retrieved and pocketed Yin and Yang, now held both sabres in each hand, a murderous smile on his face.

The man in charge turned purple at the sight of the keys dangling from the hand of his would be prisoner. “Give those to me,” he bellowed. “There is no way out, and I don’t think you can wait until morning.” His knowing laugh grated. “Definitely not. So in that case I’ll leave some men here to stand guard. You four will stand watch.” With a laugh he turned to go up the stairs, muttering something of how Mr. Vale would be pleased.

Relieved of their captor, he stared at each of the four men, his face tightened in anger at the sight of their fear of him, and turned to the Noble now standing at ease. “Let’s get out of here.” He did not care if the four heard him.

“And how, pray tell, do we do that?” mocked Fernando, relaxing on the hilt of one of the sabres pointed into the ground. “You have the key.”

The Noble had a point, and going out the way they came seemed doubtful. It was likely there were now guards in place all over the kitchen if the sounds above were any indication. He scanned their cell and his gaze fell on the iron barred window. It was small, but not too small.

“We could do it,” replied Fernando as if he heard the Angel’s thoughts. “But what about them, and her?”

“Discretion.” He would have to keep Jeanie occupied while the Noble worked his magic on the guards.

Taking the girl by the shoulder, he steered her towards the back corner opposite to the hanging corpse and put her in the corner, blocking her view. She hugged herself in an effort to warm her trembling form and did not look up. He could see that Jeanie was in shock from the events of the last twenty-four hours.

Removing the clasp from his cloak, he draped the too long material around her shivering shoulders and refastened the material. It was then that she looked up into his worried features. “Don’t worry,” he whispered, “we will be out of here soon.” He so wanted to draw her close, yet was terrified at the thought.

“No,” she shook her head, sending fiery wisps floating. “We’re no’ gettin’ outta here.”

Dropping down to one knee, he was able to gaze directly into her forest green eyes. Her trembling had eased a bit with the help of the cloak. “Do you trust me?”

She nodded weakly.

“Then trust me now when I say that I will do everything in my power to see you safe.” He glanced away for a moment in astonishment of his own confession. Looking back at Jeanie he softly restated, “We will get out of here.”

Full red lips parted in surprise at the fierceness of his words, Jeanie swallowed the dryness in her throat with a nod.
 

“Done,” called the Noble.

He stood to face the four guards who now wore blank expressions. Whatever the Noble had done it was evident that their guards would be no trouble.

“Now what?”

“The bars on the window.” He walked over to it, leaving Jeanie in the corner. “We remove them.”

He wrapped his hand around the cold bar and gave an experimental tug. The masonry, old and crumbly, gave way enough to encourage another try. He knew he could easily pull them out by himself, but with Jeanie watching, he could not. He turned to face the Noble. “They are loose. The two of us can pull them out. The glass will be easier to deal with.”

Fernando ogled in disbelief that the Angel would need help with such a simple task. Astounded at the preposterous notion, he sheathed the blades through his belt, shrugged and joined the Angel by the window. He gave his partner a long glare and placed his hands on the bar above his head. It came free with a tug and he tossed it to the ground, making metal ring on stone. “What?” he demanded from the accusing crimson glare.

“Don’t make it look so easy,” hissed the Angel.

“Oh for the love of Christ,” exasperated Fernando, but went along with the charade.

It went painstakingly slow trying to mimic the results of mortals but they managed to remove the iron bars one by one. The only mishap occurred when Fernando pulled the second to last bar too quickly from the bottom causing the jagged iron top edge to slide too fast out of place, cutting across the Angel’s palm. The unexpected burning sensation caused him to jump back with a hiss. Sucking the wound until the pain somewhat receded he scrutinized it. The scratch was not serious and he shied away from Jeanie who wanted to examine his hand, saying that it was fine before rejoining in the effort to gain their freedom. Fernando’s appraising gaze did not go unnoticed. It would be a disaster if either one got a glimpse of the bloody red scratch with the charred edges.