Angel of Death: Book One of the Chosen Chronicles (54 page)

It was Fernando’s turn to nod in silent agreement. It was clear that Fernando did not wish to tarry by the ship. “The Captain suggested a place not too far from here.” With one final glance back at the ominous ship, Fernando shuddered and turned, striding down the quay.

Knowing that Jeanie would be hard pressed to keep the pace, he held back just enough to keep her moving. Jeanie huffed in exertion, suppressing any ability to comment on what had just occurred. He hoped she would understand that they had to be indoors before dawn broke. More importantly, they needed to get away from this ship and the possibility of running into any of its crew. The fact that the
Papillon
was in Calais, when, according to Fernando’s recounts, it had been in London the night before, proved dangerous evidence that they were on the right track.

The bellhop placed the key into the door and turned the knob all the while carrying three pieces of luggage. Swinging the ornately decorated door inwards revealed the presidential suite with its large paned windows angling newborn sunlight into the room. Both he and Fernando instinctually stepped back from the opening to stand on either side of the doorway, facing the hall. The light spilling from the suite made the gold on the door across the hall glitter and sparkle. Squinting in the diluted light, he turned to face the Noble across the swatch of faded sunlight.

“I thought you asked for a north facing room,” he hissed.

“I did,” replied the Noble, blinking back pain induced tears. “At least I think I did. It’s been a while since I spoke French.”

He leaned his hooded head against the wall with a thud and closed his eyes. Fernando had insisted on paying for the hotel suite, afraid that had the Angel been left to choose the room, they would all be in a closet somewhere. Annoyed at the inference, he had walked away, letting the Noble speak his antiquated French to the concierge. Standing now in the hallway to the sunlight littered room, he realized he should have stayed and done the talking.

“Is there something wrong with the room,
mademoiselle et monsieur
?” called the young man in the middle of the room.

 
Jeanie glanced at the two Chosen hiding behind the wall and realised the problem immediately. Stepping into the large brilliant room, she sought a way to cast the palatial suite into darkness and found it. On either side of the windows heavy yellow and green brocade drapes were arranged tastefully tied back with golden ropes ending in long flowing tassels.

She glanced back at the confounded bellhop. “Is there a way t’ close the drapes?” she asked.

Brown brows drew together over young pockmarked skin, clearly unable to understand her thick Scot’s accent. “Pardon?”

Releasing an infuriated huff at the language barrier, Jeanie raised her voice. “Anyone care t’ translate?”

Fernando opened his mouth to give it a try and closed it at seeing the Angel shake his head.

“The lady asked if there was a way to close the drapes,” the Angel explained smoothly in French, pitching his voice to carry into the room.

“You could have told me you spoke French.” Fernando rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Hell you speak it better than me.”

“Your French is three centuries out of date,” he explained. “Perfect for the sixteen and seventeen hundreds, but it’s stilted by today’s standards.”

“And you would know, how?” sneered the Noble.

“Experience,” his voice darkened.

“What did he say?” called Jeanie from the room, adding to the tension.

“Who?”

He heard her huff in exasperation. “The bellhop. Weren’t ye listenin’?”

From the hallway he asked the bellhop to repeat himself and explained. “He said that you untie the cords. Once both sets of drapes are released there is a chain right at the back. You pull it and it will draw the drapes together.” He heard the bellhop speak again and then step around the room. “He’s going to show you how.”

Slowly, the dim light flooding into the hallway diminished. Glancing at the Noble who had stepped away from the doorframe, he followed suit and found the hotel suite to be blissfully blackened. The only light that filtered in came through the edges and that was manageable. It also allowed for more than enough detail of the gold and yellow wallpaper to jump out at them. The vaulted ceiling sported a magnificent crystal chandelier that used electricity to power its massive bulbs. A large fireplace along the left side lay dormant, but the wood neatly stacked beside and in the hearth promised wondrous warmth on a cold night. A hallway off to the left beside the fireplace led to one of the bedrooms and en suite baths, another hallway off the right of the parlour led to the master bedroom and accessories. It was indeed a magnificent suite and he wondered how much Fernando was paying for the privilege of staying in such quarters.

The Noble seemed quite at ease in such luxuriant accommodations as he stripped off his cape with a flourish and hung it in the closet to the right of the door. “This will do nicely,” he nodded, taking in the room as if appraising whether it was good enough for one such as he.

“Will that be all?” nervously ventured the bellhop, realizing the one who had spoken to him was the one who frightened him.

Not daring to disclose his features to the nervous young man, he nodded and replied, “Yes, thank you.” He heard Fernando fall into one of the plush chairs with a sigh.

The bellhop glanced at the unusual guests and picking the least ominous, he walked over to Jeanie and gave her the two keys to the suite and all but ran to the door.

“Remember,” called the Noble in his stilted French, halting the young man’s progress, “we’re not to be disturbed for any reason. If we need anything, we’ll let you know.”

“
Oui, monsieur
,” squeaked the bellhop. Grabbing the door handle, he pulled it shut as he left the strange hotel guests in the most expensive room in all of Calais. He did not even wait for a tip.

Suitcases neatly lined against the wall next to the closet, the Angel unhooked his cloak and lifted it off his shoulders, following Fernando’s actions by placing it in the closet. Taking Jeanie’s coat from her, he did the same and watched her as she sat on the couch with a fatigued groan and began to untie her shoelaces. The silence between the three of them grew until he realized Fernando’s steady glare on him.

“Och, that’s much better,” sighed Jeanie, rubbing her stocking feet. Without looking up at the Noble sitting across from her, she continued abashedly, “I wanna thank ye for catching me.”

A dark brow lifted in mild surprise and then lowered as he nodded. Fernando had not expected the mortal girl to state her appreciation. Her acerbic attitudes towards him left Fernando wondering if she had any civility in her. Now it seemed Notus’ housekeeper could show some level of decorum.

Not to be outdone he replied curtly, “You’re welcome. It was just instinct. Mortal chivalries haven’t been divested from me yet.”

Jeanie’s eyes narrowed. She had stated her thanks and the vampire’s reaction needled her. It seemed that no matter what the Noble said, it was some sort of personal attack. Opening her mouth to reply in suit she jumped at the sound of leather encased wood and metal hitting the table between them.

Before them, the Angel’s sheathed sword laid the length of the cherry wood table. She met Fernando’s surprised brown eyes and they both looked up at the Angel standing tall above them, his eyes flashing in a mask of nonexpression before he turned to go down the hall.

“Where do you think you’re going?” called the Noble, angrily as he leaned forward. “We need to talk.”

“If the two of you are going to continue sniping at each other, I would prefer to be away from it,” he replied turning in the hall to face them.

Jeanie’s chagrined expression was not lost on him and in that instant he wanted to console her, but the pettiness between mortal and Chosen had to stop.

Fernando’s eyes widened with the realization that the Angel was going to leave him alone with Jeanie.

“What? And ruin the fun we’ve been having?”

Fernando glanced back at the girl and smiled at his joke. It was not returned.

“Okay. Fine.” He sat back, arms across his chest.

“Jeanie?” ventured the Angel, hoping that she would follow suit.

Glancing between the man she loved and the one she loathed she smiled. If it were meant as a joke, which she seriously doubted, she would take it as a joke.

“But I dinna get t' make him angry yet,” she grinned.

Fernando's eyes widened in shock and let out a bark of laughter.

A tenuous peace established between the Noble and Jeanie, the Angel walked back into the elegantly decorated parlour and sat down on the sofa beside Jeanie. If Fernando wanted to talk, he would listen.

Recognizing that he now had the floor, Fernando uncrossed his arms. He would not look into the Angel’s eyes. It was easier to do so when the tall pale Chosen was cloaked. Having him so close and obviously choleric made Fernando edgy, especially after what Bridget had told him.

The shipping note slipped into his hand as he reached into his vest pocket and he carefully opened it and laid it on the table beside the sword. He had never seen the Angel carry one before and had thought he had seen its outline under the vampire’s cloak, but having it prominently displayed slammed home verification of the Angel’s warrior status. The hilt looked incredibly old and worn, but its workmanship was not lost on the Noble as he realized that there was about five feet of sheathed steel. He pondered how used the sword appeared.

Fernando shook that notion off and brought his attention back to the situation at hand. “This little piece of paper landed me with a headache the size of which I hadn’t experienced since I was mortal,” he stated, waiting for some sort of derogatory remark. When none was forthcoming, he continued. “Before I was knocked out I watched barrels of the spice being loaded onto the
Kaleidoscope
. That ship is here when its paperwork stated it’s supposed to be going to LaCoruna, Spain, which means we’re on the right trail. The problem we have now is to find V. Corneilli & Sons, Shipping & Receiving’s office and there is no address on this.” He leaned back waiting for a reply. “We need to find out who is ordering these herbs. We know it’s coming from Calais and to find out who we need to see the original shipping orders.”

The prospect of searching through Calais to find V. Corneilli & Sons slumped the Angel’s shoulders. Calais was a large city. Sure it was not as populated as London, but it was a booming port and that meant spending precious time searching. With only the night, it could take even longer.

“I’ll go,” said Jeanie.

“What?” Jeanie’s offer surprised the Angel and he turned to face her and met with a determined expression.

“I’ll go find the office.” Jeanie leaned over and picked up the paper before reaching for her shoes.

“You can’t go,” he stated in disbelief at the same time Fernando said, “Great.” He glared at the Noble.

“She’s perfect,” replied Fernando, refusing to look at the fiery eyes. “After all you’re the one who said having Jeanie along will allow us to get things done during the day.”

He sat up straight as if slapped. He had said those words but he did not mean to place her in danger. Sending Jeanie to the shipping house was like sending a mouse covered in milk into a crate full of cats.

“Fernando’s right,” agreed Jeanie. “It’ll save time and it’ll allow me to get something t’eat.” She slipped on one shoe, lacing them up.

Disbelieving that Jeanie and Fernando were actually agreeing on something, he found that he was on the other end and he did not know what to do.

Fernando turned to face Jeanie, a half smile of approval on his face. He had not expected her to volunteer her efforts. “Just go and find the office. Don’t go in. Be discreet and come back. If you find it today we’ll take care of things tonight.” He stood up, stretched and walked down the hall to the bedroom.