Chloe's Guardian (The Nephilim Redemption Series Book 1) (7 page)

Like a toppled stone statue he dropped to the ground. Someone grabbed his ankles and dragged him. Grunts and uneven jerks yanked him into the shadows of the side street. Around the agony of his flattened nose, his anger flared. Every century had its fool punk thugs and Horatius hated them all.

A growl rose from his gut, both from the pain and the indignation. This poltroon was going to pay. Horatius ripped his feet away and jumped up, charging his assailant and grabbing fistfuls of shirt and tartan. He ran him into the wall of the nearby building. He slammed him into the stone, repeatedly cracking his back and head against the rocks.

“You chose the wrong man to molest,” Horatius roared, punctuating each word with another crash against the rocks. Then he just kept smashing him against the wall.

“You…stole…me life,” the man got out between blows.

Horatius froze with the man suspended between his clenched fists and the wall. The face was old and scarred, and the ratty, yellow hair—now dull and filthy—would have gone unrecognized. In fact, he’d seen him in the pub without a thought. But the voice had been burned into his memory.

“MacKay?” The man’s shirt ripped and he writhed free, landing on the stony cobbles.

He staggered and tried to gain his feet. “Jean was to be
me
wife, but because of you, she married another.” He shot up and slammed his head into Horatius’ gut. The force knocked the air out of him, as well as another evil curse. Fury obliterated his reason.

He grabbed MacKay and took him up into a fireman's carry on his shoulders. He whirled him around and slammed him down hard into a pile of crates and barrels on the other side of the narrow street. Horatius didn't let him lie, but picked him up again and threw him back against the stone wall. Then he sprang into the air and landed on Mackay with a crunch of breaking ribs.

After sinking a few deep punches into MacKay’s kidneys, Horatius rolled off him and gathered up his limp form and lifted him high to hurl him again into the wall. But MacKay was already unconscious. His head was laid open and thick, red blood was draining out. A weak whistle of air seeped out his blue lips.

Horatius dumped him into a heap.
What have I done?
Reason returned. It would set him back a century if he killed someone.

“Angus, can you hear me?”

Nothing. He pressed his fingers through the slick blood on Angus’ neck and felt for the pulse. He repositioned his hand and tried again to find the artery.
Oh no
!
No pulse
. Had his spirit left yet? Was he too far gone?
What have I done?

CHAPTER
10

Panic woke Chloe, ripping her from where she teetered just inside the edge of sleep. A voice was back in her head.
You’re all alone. No one loves you.
When she opened her eyes, her surroundings sealed it for her. She truly was lost and alone in a strange country. And it was her own fault.

Her stomach growled at her and her teeth felt like she’d gargled with swamp sand. She needed to find food, get her phone charged and call Todd, call her mom, and figure out how to survive until they could rescue her.

She sat up from the loveseat, which faced away from the front desk and most of the lobby. She peeked over the back of the small couch. A different person manned the counter—a stern looking woman who was arguing with another woman about checkout times.

The cello was gone. And so was her bowl of money. She jumped up and ran around the loveseat searching for the money.
No, no, no. Where is it?

“Hey, you there!” said the stern woman at the counter. “Where’d you come from? Come over here.”

“Have you seen my bowl of money?” Chloe snatched up the ten pound paper bill that she’d been lying on. She pulled a cushion off the couch to look for more, but before she could dig around, the woman from the counter was at her side.

“What are you, some kind of homeless bum off the street? You can’t come in here like this.” She grabbed the cushion from Chloe and raised it like she meant to hit her with it. “Go on. Now, get. Get!”

“I need to charge my phone. And I had a bowl of money.” But the woman wasn’t listening. Because she was calling down the corridor for
security
.

I’ve had enough with security for one lifetime
. Chloe tucked the one bill into her pocket and dashed out of the door before anyone could haul her out. With the money gone and her phone still dead, she was back where she’d started, the whole night wasted.
You’re hopeless.
It was true. It would have been better if her jump had been successful.

Outside, she just started walking. The voice kept telling her terrible things. And they were all true. It
was
hopeless and it
was
all her fault.

The aroma of cinnamon rolls swirled around her face. The smell came from a bakery surrounded by café tables filled with couples, friends, and families huddled under their maroon umbrellas.
Everyone has someone. Except me.

The sweet smell of yeast and sugar pulled her inside. She had to eat. After standing in line a few minutes, she stepped up to the counter and concentrated on the menu hanging on the wall, working hard not to start crying. If Todd had been there, she’d be okay. He would make her feel safe. She wouldn’t be alone. He’d make everything okay.

But he isn’t here
.
And I need to hold it together till we can talk.

The jumble of words on the menu became legible and her stomach reminded her where she was. A breakfast sandwich and a bottle of juice was the cheapest breakfast combo on the menu. She ordered and watched the sizzling maple bacon bubble and spit on the grill behind the cashier. It made her stomach growl loud enough that the man heard it.

Chloe rubbed her stomach. “Guess I’m hungry.” She gave him her order.

“Aye. Eat in or take away?”

“Take away. That's cheaper, right?”

“Aye. That’ll be four pounds, sixty then.” Across the counter he slid a frosted bottle of orange juice and he tucked a steaming sandwich with egg falling out the edges into a paper sleeve.

Chloe reached into her pocket for the money. Wrong pocket. She tried the other. It wasn’t there either. She checked the first again, digging deeper.
Where did I put it?
She opened her phone case to see if she’d stuck it inside. Was she losing her mind?
You
are
losing your mind
the incessant voice said.

“Hang on a sec, I had it here somewhere.” While she checked her back pockets, the cashier pulled the breakfast combo back out of reach. The bill wasn’t by her feet. Maybe it had fallen out of her pocket. “I’ll be right back, okay? I had it….”

After searching back and forth through the entrance and outdoor eating area three times, Chloe retraced her steps on the sidewalk all the way back to the hotel. The weather had whipped up and was blowing in thick clouds. Maybe the money had blown off the sidewalk. She followed her route back to the bakery, checking along the sidewalk, in the grass and shrubs.

She passed a churchyard that had a small wrought-iron fence with pieces of trash blown up against the rails. Several people, holding their jackets closed against the wind, stood chatting on the grass surrounded by the fence. A cluster of elementary-aged boys were in a huddle near one end of the fence.

“I saw it first. It’s mine,” one boy said swiping his blowing hair out of his eyes.

Another argued with him, but he was half the size of the first.

“Mum! Mum, look what I found!” He broke away from the group of boys and ran to the adults. “I found ten quid!”

Chloe’s heart jumped. Then it sank. Sank even lower than it already was. No way could she convince anyone that was her money.
It’s hopeless.
The voice was her sole companion.
You’d be better off gone.

She turned from the fence and went over to a low concrete wall and sat, defeated. She could no longer hold back the deluge of sobs. Her body shook and shuddered, completely out of her control. She hid her shame by shielding her face with her palms, spilling her pain against her hands. Rain started to fall, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.

“Miss, can I help you?” A man in a black shirt with a white collar rested his hand on her shoulder.

She lowered her hands but still couldn’t stop the weeping or form any words.

“Come in and I’ll fix you a cup of tea. Come on, watch your step there. You’re going to be soaked through with rain if you stay here.”

***

A towel draped across her shoulders absorbed the rain dripping from her coiling hair. Though she tried to eat at a proper pace, her fork had a mind of its own, shoveling food in her mouth at a speed her mother would frown at. Sausages and eggs had never tasted so incredible.

“This is so good,” Chloe said as she pushed the clump of scrambled egg back into her mouth that didn’t quite fit in with the sausage.

“I get hungry after the morning services,” the vicar said. “But never enough to eat all Mrs. Henderson prepares for me. I’m glad to share it.”

They sat at a small oak table in the kitchen of the manse, which was attached to the church. Mrs. Henderson stood at the sink washing dishes. She turned and smiled at them when the vicar said her name.

Chloe smiled back and then held her hand in front of her mouth to finish chewing.

“So it sounds like you are in quite a spot,” he said. “Your mum will be worried sick when the plane empties and you’re not on it.”

Thinking of her mother made the nerves in her stomach twinge. “She’s probably so mad she’s ready to leave me here. My dad is so going to kill me,” she said. “If she’s calling, I wouldn’t know it. My phone’s dead.”

“You can use our landline.”

Chloe felt like a total moron. “I don’t even know the number. Speed dial. The numbers are in my phone, and—”

“—your mobile is dead. Ah, I see. What kind of mobile have you got there?” Over the top of his half glasses he studied her cell. “Hmm, that is a fairly old one. I might have a charger that fits. You wouldn’t believe the number of things people forget in the pews. We found some phone chargers, didn’t we, Mrs. Henderson?”

“Aye, I’m sure we did,” she answered. She was up to her elbows in suds.

Chloe handed over her phone. He went to a drawer in the sideboard and pulled out a cardboard box heaped with stuff—a green mitten, several sunglasses, a tangle of electrical cords, and a toy helicopter and soldier. He came back to the table and dug through the box until he found three phone chargers.

The third one he tried fit, but it was a car charger.

“Well, looks like we will need a car then. I don’t have one, but Mrs. Henderson does. Since you're still washing up, do you mind if we use your car, Mrs. Henderson?”

“The keys are over by my pocketbook. Help yourself.”

The vicar led Chloe to a small alley in back where a Honda was parked. He opened the door and gestured Chloe in. Inside smelled like cigarettes and a cardboard pine tree air freshener. The upholstery was split in several places and a pack of cigarettes lay on the passenger seat, which was covered in dog hair. She pulled open the ash tray, removed the lighter, and plugged in the phone cord.

“It might take a few minutes, might it?” he said. “I’ll leave you here for a bit while I tend some things. Once you finish your call, come find me, aye?”

Chloe nodded. As soon as he left, she powered it up. She watched the charging bar move across the face. Her breath came out in short huffs and her heart pounded. She dialed before the phone had time to retrieve any messages.

First she tried Todd’s number. No answer.
He’s probably asleep.

Then, with a shaky hand, she dialed home. On the fifth ring, a very groggy voice answered.

“Hello?”

“Mom, it’s me, Chloe.”

Her mom screamed first. Then she said, “Are you okay? We’ve been worried sick.”

“I’m fine. I’m sorry. I locked my keys in the car. And missed the plane.”

“Jessie said you took off without telling anyone. She said Kaitlyn said you were going after someone. Someone said you stole a car. Oh Chloe, how could you?”

“They said what?”

“Why did you do it?”

“I didn’t. Kaitlyn knows where I went. Didn’t she tell you?”

“You know how Kaitlyn is. I never understand what she says. Jessie said you broke up with Todd. Tell me that isn’t true. You won’t find another boy like him. I’m counting on him for my son-in-law one day.”

“We had a misunderstanding is all. I just need to talk to him.”

“That’s a relief. I don’t know what I would have done.”

“Haven’t you talked to Todd?”

“I didn’t see him. When you weren’t on the plane, I nearly died.”

Chloe really needed to talk to him.

“I need my passport and I—”

“Your father is bringing it.”

“Bringing it?”
You’ve really blown it now
, the voice in her head said
.

“His plane is landing at eleven-thirty, your time. I had to call him. What else could I do? He got the next flight he could.”

Chloe did
not
want to face her dad. “How mad is he?”

“Just make sure you’re there to meet him. That might help a little. He got your bag from Kaitlyn and he’ll bring you home.”

“You could have just overnighted my passport and some money.”

“When he sets his mind on something—”

Chloe started crying. It was the last thing she wanted to do. “All I wanted….” She couldn’t even remember now. It had been so stupid of her.
You
are
stupid
.

“What were you thinking?”

“I’m sorry, Mom,” she sobbed. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“But that doesn’t undo it, does it? Your dad has a lot of stress right now. This doesn’t help. We’ve got to do better if we think he’s going to come back home.”

Chloe lowered the phone into her lap. What could she say to that? She couldn’t fix her parents’ marriage. They could all be perfect and Dad would still be unhappy with them.

She spun the cardboard pine tree and watched it twirl—first one way, then the other and back again—before she put the phone back to her ear.

“…back to sleep. Or at least try. I haven’t slept all night. When you get home, you and I are having a serious talk. We’ve all just been worried sick. I’ve had nightmares of horrible things happening to you. I hope Todd won’t be too angry with you. He probably had a horrible flight worrying about you.”

“If you see him, ask him to call me, okay? I really need to talk to him.”

“Don’t be late to the airport. Don’t keep your dad waiting. And when you get back, invite him in for something to eat, okay? I’ll have a nice meal made for him.”

Chloe stayed in the car trying to control the guilt and nausea that sat on her gut like a bowling ball.
Shame on you.
The voice was back in full force.

When she thought she could keep from crying, she returned to the manse. The vicar was pushing in chairs around the oak table. His smile dropped when he turned around and saw her.

“What is wrong, dear?” he said.

Chloe choked up and the tears started tumbling down her cheeks again. “My dad is coming. So he can kill me.”

The vicar put his arm around her shoulders and handed her a napkin from the table. “I’m sorry, lassie.”