Shadow of Death: Book Two of the Chosen Chronicles (47 page)

Notus

eyes popped wide at the revelation.

Disgusted at the monk, Fernando turned his attention to Bridget.

I found him. And I

ll tell you this. I have never seen him so enraged. I tried to convince him to come back, as you wanted, but he would have none of it. The air chilled around us and I could see a fog swirl up around our feet. Needless to say I let him go.

Without glancing back at Notus

stunned expression Fernando added,

Well done, monk. Your lies have left us in great danger.

 

 

He could feel Fernando

s burning gaze on his back as he stalked away. Fury shook him and clenched his pale hands into fists.
How
dare
he!
he fumed. The thought of going back and seeing that man, let alone talk with him, disgusted and fuelled his rage. Some part knew that Fernando was just trying to help, probably on Bridget

s behest, but he could barely keep his anger in check, especially when the Noble grabbed him.

He did not recall ever speaking so to another the way he had done to Fernando. If he was not so hurt at the whole situation he
would have felt bad for how he had talked to the Noble. Instead he ignored the glare and was relieved when its presence disappeared.
He did not want to hurt the Chosen.

There was no going back, even if he wanted to, which he did not. Instead he strode under the dark canopy of trees, Ontario

s capital a red and black monument far away. Everything that he was was now gone, stripped from him with the lies from a Chosen who had sought only to control him. That realization burned his heart. Even if Notus came crawling back, begging for forgiveness and offered him the Choice, he would throw it back into that little man

s face.

How dare he keep me from my family!
he silently raged. His whole existence was a search for belonging and acceptance, to fill the gaping void of loneliness encapsulated his heart. He had only
found true release from that existence with Jeanie, but Vampires destroyed that, sending him back into darkness. No doubt remained
that Notus would have done everything to ensure she would never be Chosen, even to the extent of erasing her memories of her love
and time with him like Notus had done with Tarian

s granddaughter.
To discover that the Monk purposely kept him away from such connections over and over, especially with his blood family,
destroyed all the trust he had ever had in the man. To have it revealed that he had once had a father and a sister was a childhood
fantasy come to life, one that Notus would have always know was
something he desperately wanted. The fact it came fifteen hundred
years too late blurred his eyes with unshed tears.
Geraint, Eira, Auntie, why did you never tell me?

Because they needed to protect you.

He halted in mid-stride as the chorused voice of the Three Ladies filled his mind. Astonishment turned his anger into a   simmer for a brief moment before flaring higher.
Where have you been?
he silently cried.

No answer.

Aren

t you going to say
anything
to me?
he demanded, staring at the trees above.

Again he was met with silence.

Their abandonment added fuel to the fire. He shuddered in unreleased fury and closed his eyes. The image of his father

s sword filled his mind and he knew that no matter what he must get it back from the Vampires. It was the only thing in his life that never let him down. And if he was killed, so what? He had lived long enough to learn that there was nothing left except lies and deception. It was true; cold steel was the only thing a man could trust.

Opening his eyes he allowed the burning anger to cool, stilling his body, until cold wrapped his heart. No longer would he be the tool of someone else

s revenge. No longer would he leave life changing choices in another

s hand. No longer Chosen, he was released to seek out the Vampires on this continent, to kill as many as would get in the way of recovering what was his, or die trying.

He knew where the Vampires could be found. Now only if he could get one of them to tell him the location of his sword. With long purposeful strides pulling at his broken ribs he continued through the park. He would get his father

s sword back, and once
he did he would ensure that the damnable Chosen would leave him alone or suffer the same consequences as that of the Vampire
s.

The sound of a stick breaking behind drew him up short. He turned in time to see a blur dive at him. Centuries of training controlled his movements and with a side step and a flick of his wrist he sent his attacker flying past him to land on his back several metres away.

“You killed Daniel and Thomas.” The accusation came from the direction of his attackers launch.

Turning his head, white locks draping his face, he felt hatred’
s elation at finally finding a target.

I know no Daniel or Thomas,

he whispered darkly. Anger

s energy flowed up from the ground, filling him with anticipation for a fight.

But I am sure that as Vampires they got what they deserved.

A roar of anger preceded the attack from the one he had thrown. Turning his attention, he grabbed the thrown punch and twisted the arm until he heard the satisfying pop of a dislocated shoulder. Ignoring the scream of pain from his ribs, he kicked the Vampire in the chest, releasing his grip on the creature

s incapacitated hand so as to let him fly to the ground.

It was more a feeling than a seeing. The Vampire who had accused him joined the fight. Spinning around, the Angel dropped to let the Vampire

s kick fly over him and at the same time he struck the knee with an open hand strike. The sound of crushed bone and gristle accompanied by the man

s scream electrified the cold around his heart. Sadistic enjoyment of his revenge gave energy to him as he watched the Vampire hop back.

Unconsciously his hand found a discarded branch from a tree above as he pushed off the damp grass. Just as his first attacker recovered enough from his injuries to attempt another blow, the Angel stepped in and slid the broken wood between immortal ribs to pierce the meat of the Vampire

s heart. Surprised grey eyes met his and he delighted in watching them dry and shrivel as the creature succumbed to the effects of the stake in his heart.

Pain erupted down his back, forcing him to release the desiccating form, stick still in its chest. The pain, so similar to what he had endured at the hands of another Vampire, exploded his fury. Spinning around, ignoring his laboured breathing, he struck out on the offensive, uncaring that he was a mortal fighting a preternatural monster.

His clawed hand made contact with the Vampire

s face, breaking the jaw and sending a sharp tooth flying. He did not wait for a retaliatory strike as his open right hand impacted the      creature

s sternum. Again the satisfying sound of crushed bones added to his dark elation. His attacker stumbled back, clearly in pain despite the swift healing. Not waiting to let the Vampire gain the upper hand, the Angel, tasting metal, spun and kicked, imploding the Vampire

s chest with its force.

Lifted off his feet, the Vampire

s flight came to an abrupt halt against a tree. Realizing that his attacker was stuck on the tree, the tip of a broken branch glistening through the creature

s       abdomen, the Angel slowly made his way to the Vampire, stopping momentarily to pick up another discarded branch.

The terrorized expression on his would-be assassin

s face invoked dark pleasure as he came to stand before it. Cold crimson eyes caught brown.

Where is my sword?

he demanded through clenched teeth.

The Vampire mewled in pain, his jaw slow to heal.

The lack of an answer was too much. He had asked a question and to be denied the truth yet again made it impossible to control his bucking fury. Grabbing thick brown hair, he slammed the Vampire

s head against the tree, the sound rang hollow in the glade, and he leaned in close.

Tell me where my sword is and I

ll release you.

Ice coated his words.

“I–
I d

d

don

t…

The Vampire tried to shake his head, brown eyes imploring the Angel of Death to believe him.

Ignoring a gaze that would have once, a long time ago, drawn guilt from him, the Angel pressed closer, his long white locks brushing the man

s chest as he tilted his head.

You don

t know or you don

t want to get in trouble with your Master.

“Know!” blurted the terrified Vampire, his jaw almost healed.

Answer received, the Angel stepped back, taking in the full measure of the creature and found disgust twisting his gut. Maybe it was lying. Maybe not. He could not tell.

“You said you’
d let me go,

demanded the Vampire as it struggled on the broken branch.

Regardless, he could not trust the utterances from the vile creature. Full white lips slimmed into the feral smile of one having captured its prey. Slamming the large branch into the Vampire

s chest, piercing its heart, he whispered into the new made Vampire corpse

s ear,

I said I would release you. I did not specify how.

Turning away from the dead Vampire, the Angel did not bother a glance at the dried curled creature on the ground as he walked away. The sharp pain of his broken ribs flared back to life as his vented anger reduced to a simmer.  He clutched his side as he walked on to the only place where he would find answers

The Veil.

 

 

It had not gone as she had planned.

Everything up to Thorn

s birth was perfect, if delayed. It was after his consumption of the vagrant that she realized that reality
did not match with her expectations. Terry was gone and Thorn did not bestow upon her the adoration she had become accustomed
to. Fed and dressed in black jeans, cotton shirt, and worn running shoes, Thorn

s swaggering steps were barely contained next to hers.

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