Angel and the Assassin (29 page)

He stood for a second with his hand on the handle, then in one swift movement, turned it and stepped inside. Keeping his gun level with his gaze, he scanned the bathroom and sniffed the air. Again, the only scent he picked up was Angel—his sweet perspiration, a delicate undertone of something boyish yet masculine. There was nowhere in the bathroom to hide. The glass shower stall was empty. The airing cupboard was the only place with a solid door, but only a very slender person could fit between the shelves and the door, which was closed.

Crossing the room, Kael stood at the door, paused, took a breath, and opened it. He pressed the muzzle of the gun to Angel‟s chest and in the same instant grabbed him by the neck. He looked quickly around him, thinking he had made a mistake.

“You stupid boy, I could have killed you! Who else is here? Why the hell are you hiding from me?”

Angel stood with his hands up. “Next time try the decaf, for God‟s sake.”

Angry at the sarcasm, Kael released him so roughly he fell to the ground. He was confused, and that always enraged him. “Who was here? Who got you out of the dog crate?”

“I got myself out.”

“No, you didn‟t.” He took Angel‟s arm, pulled him to his feet, and forced him down the hall to the cupboard while the boy protested all the way. “Who did that?”

He pointed at the box on the floor, realizing it had to have been Angel. That was why he had needed the chair; he wasn‟t tall enough to reach the box. “Who‟s been here?”

“No one.” Angel began to struggle to free his arm. “Get off me.”

Kael released him and began to put away his passports and weapons. “We need to talk. Go into the living room and wait for me.”

“I‟m getting something to eat; you tried to starve me.” Angel turned toward the kitchen. Kael was after him in an instant. With an arm around Angel‟s waist, he 152

scooped him up and carried him to the living room, where he tossed him on the couch. “Sit! Do as you‟re damn well told.”

Angel sat cross-legged and his tone was confrontational, but he made no attempt to get up. “Have you got your scalpel in your pocket? Why don‟t you just kill me now?”

How the hell did Angel know he carried a scalpel? “What are you talking about, boy?”

“Kael Saunders, John Carpe, Markus Muller. Who the hell are you? You kill people for a living, don‟t you? I just want to know why you were going to kill me.

What the hell did I do? I don‟t sell guns to bad guys.”

“I was never going to kill you.”

“Maybe I was imagining it then.” Angel spread his hands, casting his eyes up to the ceiling.

Kael stopped in front of him and removed his jacket and gun holster. “Would you like to share with me what you are talking about, boy?” He tried to sound calm, but he was hungry and tired, he had not slept all night, and he wanted Angel to be happy to see him. He had expected him to be a little grumpy at being left caged so long, but he never expected to end up chasing him around the flat and shoving a gun in his chest. He had expected Angel to open his arms and be grateful to be let out of the cage like a good slave.

Angel spoke quietly, but his gaze never wavered from Kael‟s. “The night we left Cape Cod, we stood in the kitchen. You said you wanted a glass of water.”

Christ, he’s known all this time that I was going to kill him.

“You came up behind me, and you had a scalpel in your hand. I didn‟t know what it was at the time, but I saw your stash in the box and figured out that‟s what it was. You were going to slit my throat.”

“I never slit throats; it‟s far too messy.”
That was a stupid thing to say
. “And I didn‟t hurt you. I brought you home.”

“Because you wanted to fuck me?”

“Actually you‟re not my type. I like men, not boys. I‟ve never been into twinks.”

He watched as Angel shriveled under the words. His chin dropped onto his chest, and his pale cheeks grew hot and red. Kael could have kicked himself. He needed to shut up right now, but he hated being confronted. And Angel was right; Kael did want him. He just couldn‟t admit it. “I just felt sorry for you.”

“Guess I should be grateful for that. I‟m still alive.” He wrapped his arms around his chest as if he was suddenly embarrassed to be nearly naked and so small and skinny. “I don‟t need British citizenship. I‟ve got my US passport. I can leave anytime and go to my mom in France. She‟ll be relieved to see I‟m okay. That Conran dude was lying about her, right?”

Kael wanted to take Angel in his arms and rock him until he felt better.

Instead he stood there like a big ape, doing nothing. “Yes, Conran lied about your 15mum. He can be a mean bastard. But you can‟t leave yet, not until a few things are sorted out. Let‟s get some food. I‟m starving.”

Angel stood up as though nothing had happened. He forced a cheerful tone.

“I‟ll make you a sandwich, Sir. You want a sandwich?”

“That would be fine.”

In the kitchen Kael sat on a stool at the counter watching Angel take food from the fridge. The boy grabbed a bottle of water from the cupboard and set it in front of him. “Sir,” he said, like a waiter in a restaurant.

Kael grasped the bottle. “Angel.” The boy watched him but carried on working.

“In Cape Cod you saw something you weren‟t supposed to see, and because of that your life has been in danger. That‟s why I have been keeping you indoors, to keep you safe. I had to blackmail Conran. I videoed that scene in the dungeon, and I threatened him with it to get him to make things right with the right people to keep you safe. I‟m responsible for you. I won‟t let anyone hurt you. I promise.”

Angel‟s eyes met his. “Were you supposed to kill me that night, Sir?”

“Yes, because you were a witness,” Kael said very quietly. “But I couldn‟t. I‟d never hurt you. Don‟t ask anything else. I have already told you far too much. I promise you, I will never, never hurt you.”

Angel placed a smoked salmon sandwich in front of him, and he began to eat.

Half an hour later, completely exhausted, Kael went into the bedroom. His diary was still in his pocket, and he tossed it into the bedside table drawer before stripping and falling into bed. Angel came in quietly.

“I have to sleep; I was up all night.” He could go for long periods with no sleep when he needed to, but when he crashed, he crashed. “Promise me you will not do anything stupid. Do I need to put you in restraints? Restraints you can‟t get out of.”

Angel sat cross-legged beside him, holding his blanket in his hands, fingering it. “No, Sir.”

“How the hell did you get out of the cage? That was a really good combination lock. It needed eight numbers.”

“I saw you open it when you brought my cookies and bananas, remember, Sir?”

“But I opened it only once, I did it fast, and you were looking from the opposite side. How did you remember the numbers? How did you even see them?”

“I pictured it in my head. I‟ve always been good at that kind of thing,” Angel said.

“Really?” Kael looked at him. This boy would make a really good operative, given the right training. Kael had met agents who were good because they worked hard and had the desire to do the job. But they were never as good as those who, like himself, had a natural talent for the work. Angel might just have that same talent. He definitely had potential. Kael shoved the duvet down below his waist.

“You want me to suck your cock, Sir?”

154

“A slave waits for instructions.” He was tired and impatient. More than anything he wanted Angel in his arms. It had been his only thought on the train home. “Give me a handjob.”

“Yes, Sir.” Angel lay down beside him, their bodies touching, resting his head on Kael‟s shoulder. The touch of his skin was like water to a thirsty man; he felt bathed in the softness and the suppleness of his boy. But Angel wasn‟t his boy. He was waiting to go and visit his bitch of a mother who would probably reject him again. He wrapped his arm around Angel‟s shoulders, wanting to hold him there forever.

Kael‟s cock rose and grew red with blood the moment Angel‟s cool hand wrapped around it and began sliding up and down the thick shaft. He turned his head to the side, grabbed the back of Angel‟s head, and kissed him. The boy responded at once, moving in closer, his hand tightening on Kael‟s shaft. He opened his mouth to receive Kael‟s tongue and pressed his groin into the hard muscle of Kael‟s hip, rubbing his cock against it. They both came quickly, gasping into each other‟s mouths. Angel rolled on top of Kael and lay panting.

Sleep swept over him while he held Angel against his chest, hoping that whatever had caused a rift between them could be healed.

15Chapter Eighteen

“Sir, am I old enough to have a beer?”

They sat having lunch in the Quebec Pub in Old Quebec Street, where Kael had arranged to meet Conran. It was an older crowd for the most part, men in their fifties and up, and Kael got many admiring glances.

“Yes, you only have to be eighteen in England, and only sixteen if you have alcohol with food.”

“So can I have one, please, Sir?”

Angel had seemed happy when they were walking through Hyde Park, but his moods were up and down, and his spirits seemed to have slumped again during the meal.

The waiter walked over. “Can I take your plates? How was your meal?”

“Great.” Kael looked him up and down. He was in his midtwenties, dark and attractive, though a little less in shape than he should be. “I‟ll have another beer and one for the boy.”

“Anything else, sir, anything at all?” The intimate smile the young man gave Kael obviously irritated Angel, and his careful obedience broke down.

“He‟s my master, so you can take your tarty ass somewhere else.”

Since the only thing Angel had talked about for the last week was going to France to visit his mother, Kael was taken by surprise at his possessiveness. But he would not allow him to be rude to a waiter. He leaned across the table and jabbed a finger into his chest. “That was not polite; say you‟re sorry.”

A mutinous look that was almost comic twisted Angel‟s face, but he looked up at the waiter obediently. “I‟m sorry.”

“Give him a beer to mellow him out,” Kael said.

“Are you American?” The waiter looked at Angel.

“No, I‟m Japanese,” Angel said under his breath, looking away.

The waiter brought the beers over and placed a half-pint of lager in front of Angel. “For the Japanese gentleman.”

Kael laughed, and Angel looked furious. “I‟d watch out if I were you,” he said to the waiter. “My master carries a gun, and he kills people.”

From the incredulous look on the waiter‟s face, it was plain he did not believe Angel. He walked away without another word. “That was very stupid of you.” Kael 156

grabbed Angel‟s arm, deliberately hurting him. “This is why I can‟t trust you with information. What‟s got into you? I thought you were an intelligent boy.”

“I don‟t like being treated like a kid, and I didn‟t like that waiter smiling at you and making fun of me.” Angel took his glass and finished the whole beer in one slug, then set it on the table with a
thump
, looking at Kael for a reprimand. He refused to rise to the bait.

Obviously disappointed at the lack of reaction, Angel crossed his arms and looked around. “Oh my God, what‟s he doing here?” He pointed at the door.

“He‟s meeting us.”

Looking as if he had walked into a lion‟s den, Conran stood at the pub door.

Kael waved him over. He hurried to their table and sat down. “When you told me to meet you here, you didn‟t say this was a gay pub, Saunders.”

“It‟s a gay pub,” Kael said as though Conran were stupid. “Everyone in London knows that. What‟s wrong with you?”

“Yes, that‟s fine for you, but in my position it could cause difficulties being seen walking in here.”

“Still got a rod up your arse, Conran? But no, that was my dick, wasn‟t it?

What have you got for me?”

Conran looked quickly around to see if anyone had heard, but he was far too ordinary to draw much attention. From his briefcase he pulled a large manila envelope, removing a maroon passport and some papers. “This is everything he needs.” He passed them to Kael. “He‟s good to stay in the country now.”

Kael thumbed open the passport to the photo page. “Where did you get the picture? It‟s adorable.”

“We can get our hands on anything when we need to,” Conran said.

“This is your British passport.” He handed it to Angel to look at. “What about the big boys at Legoland?” Kael asked, referring to the nickname given to the building at Vauxhall Cross.

“They won‟t touch him. They know what you‟re like, and they accepted that he saw nothing and you wanted him for amusement.” Angel looked at Kael, then at Conran, biting his lip. Kael wanted slap Conran. “Aside from that, they don‟t want to lose you. You‟re too good at what you do.”

“What about the Bosnians?”

Conran glanced at Angel, saying quietly, “It‟s under way. Another day or two and it will all be over. You have all you need. Don‟t compromise yourself anymore.

What about that video?”

“No one has seen it, and no one will as long as Angel is safe.”

The waiter walked over, and Kael put his hand on Conran‟s thigh. “Do you want a drink, love?” he asked loudly.

Conran froze, his cheeks growing rapidly pink. “No, I have to go.” He got up, shaking Kael‟s hand off his leg, and walked out without looking back. Kael laughed 15as he watched him go. He loved embarrassing Conran. He held his hand out for the passport, and Angel gave it back. “Come on, boy; you are officially safe. Let‟s go and buy you some more clothes. And I found a shop on the Internet that makes Irlen lenses. We‟re going there first.”