Angel and the Assassin (6 page)

“I know,” Kael said.

“How do you know that, Daddy?”

“I know everything. Where‟s the kitchen? I want a glass of water.”

This was getting ridiculous. He should have killed Angel upstairs in the shower. He had passed up the opportunity of a clean, easy kill. There was no way in hell he could leave the house with the boy. He must die there.

Angel led the way across the wide hall to the kitchen. The light came on automatically as they entered. Instinctively Kael stepped back into the hall.

“There‟s no one here, Daddy; it goes on by itself,” Angel said. “Motion sensitive.”

“Handy.” Kael followed the boy into the kitchen, past the island counter, and over to the sink. Angel took a glass from the cupboard to his right and turned on the tap.

Kael came up behind him, very close, and slid the scalpel from his pocket. He placed his right hand on Angel‟s shoulder and his left, holding the scalpel with the blade still retracted, he brought up to the boy‟s neck. With his forefinger, he easily found the pulsing jugular vein. He was perfectly in position to make the kill. Angel trusted him completely. He had his back to him. Even if Angel moved at this point, Kael had his body trapped between himself and the edge of the sink. There was no escape. All he needed to do was press the release button with his index finger and the scalpel blade would flick out, cutting deep into the vein.

Kael would instantly step back to avoid blood spatter and would leave the way he had entered, through the French windows in the lounge.

Becoming conscious that neither of them had moved in almost a minute, Kael looked up. The window was bare, casting their reflections in the darkened glass above the sink. Angel remained completely motionless, looking into Kael‟s reflected face. Kael looked at Angel‟s reflection, and their gazes met.

Angel pressed his back against Kael‟s abdomen. His body melded into Kael‟s just as it had when the boy had thrown himself into his arms in the shower moments after pissing himself with fear.

“Life takes strange turns sometimes, doesn‟t it, Daddy?” Angel said very quietly.

Kael brought his left hand down, slipping the scalpel back into his pocket.

With his right arm, he hugged Angel tightly to his chest. They continued to look at each other in the window. “Yes it does, very strange. Put the glass down, and turn off the tap.” Kael did not want to touch anything else. “Have you got a passport?”

There was no choice. Either he killed Angel or he took him home.

Ten minutes later they left through the French windows, the same way Kael had entered two hours earlier. It was the longest time he had ever spent in the target‟s location after a kill.

Logan International Airport, Boston

Kael placed his maroon-colored passport on the British Airways counter. “Two first-class seats to London, England, on the next flight.”

The steward surveyed Kael appreciatively, opening the passport. “Certainly, Mr. Carpe. Does the young man have a passport too?”

Kael took Angel‟s passport from his hand and offered it to the steward, who checked the picture. “Angel Gabriel Button?”

“That‟s me.” There was a distinct flirtatiousness in the tilt of his head and the eye contact that lasted a fraction too long. With the back of his hand, Kael slapped Angel lightly in the shoulder. The boy straightened up and frowned. “What‟d I do, Daddy?”

Kael leaned into his face, speaking so that only Angel could hear. “If I catch you flirting, I‟ll slap your arse.”

“I‟m sorry, Daddy.”

Kael pierced the boy with a look and moved him aside with an arm. Angel stood behind him submissively while Kael pulled out a gold credit card to pay for the flights.

“Do you have any luggage, sir?” the steward asked.

“No, I travel light.” Kael met the man‟s eyes. He‟d always had a killer smile and used it to distract people from further questions. “Just the boy‟s bag, and we‟ll carry it on.”

“Yes, sir.”

In the departure lounge, they sat looking out at the planes taking off and landing in the darkness, when Michael Jackson‟s “Beat It” came from Angel‟s pocket. He pulled out his mobile.

Kael snatched it out of his hand and flipped it open. Angel‟s mouth opened in protest, then closed quickly. “Who‟s Danny?” Kael asked.

“Just a boy. We met on the beach in Provincetown a few weeks ago. We kissed a bit but nothing else.”

“You won‟t need to speak to him again then.” Kael snapped the phone in two and stood up to toss it in a nearby bin.

“Why?” Angel spread his hands, confused.

“It won‟t work in England.”

An hour later they boarded the plane. Kael could never fit comfortably into a regular seat on a plane, and anyway, he would not dream of traveling anything but first-class. The first-class cabin was almost empty, and he was grateful; the fewer people who saw him with Angel, the better. Between airport security and CCTV

cameras everywhere, they would not go unnoticed for long. He directed Angel to two seats well away from the nearest passenger and seated him beside the window so he could not get up without permission.

Shortly after takeoff, the same steward who had sold him the tickets appeared.

“Would you like a drink, sir?”

“Whisky and the boy will have an orange juice,” Kael said.

“I want a Coke, please.” Angel looked at the steward. Anger shot through Kael.

He put his hand on Angel‟s knee, gripping it hard until the boy winced. “I‟ll have orange juice, please,” Angel said quietly.

Without looking at him, Kael said, “Do as I tell you, boy.” He could hardly expect Angel to be grateful he was still alive since the boy had no idea he was supposed to be dead, but he had to learn quickly not to question anything Kael said or did. “Do as I tell you because it‟s safer for you and because I expect to be obeyed.

Do you want to be a slave or not?”

“Yes, Daddy.” Angel looked up at him.

“And don‟t call me Daddy anymore. I allowed that while I was fucking you, but now things are different. Call me Sir and obey me.”

“Yes, Sir,” Angel said very quietly. The slight quiver of his chin proved his disappointment, and the look in his eyes showed some small fear.

“Coke will rot your insides.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Excellent. If he’s a little afraid, he’ll be more likely to obey me.

Angel reached up a hand and touched Kael‟s cheek, stroking it with his fingers in a conciliatory gesture. Kael was instantly aroused by the soft touch.

The steward brought their drinks, and Kael downed his in one shot and handed the glass back. Angel put his juice into the cup holder. When the steward had left the cabin, Kael glanced around. The seats to their immediate left were empty, the nearest passengers several seats behind.

It was the middle of the night, and the cabin lights were turned low. Kael unzipped his trousers and took Angel‟s hand, pushing it inside his underwear. “Rub my cock,” he told him in a low voice.

Angel leaned his head on Kael‟s chest and sighed, seeming utterly content.

Kael wrapped his arm around the boy‟s shoulders, already catching his breath as the warm fingers grasped his hard shaft and began a slow massage up and down. A low moan escaped Kael, and he bit his lip in an attempt not to draw attention to them.

2With his head resting back against the seat, Kael closed his eyes, the only reality in that moment being Angel‟s hand on his cock. What would happen when they arrived in London remained to be seen; all that mattered just then was his steady progress toward orgasm. As his stomach muscles tightened in anticipation, he felt around on the empty seat to his left for the discarded napkin and covered Angel‟s hand with it. When he felt Angel sliding his head down toward his crotch, he grabbed him by his hair, pulling the boy‟s head back.

“Let‟s not be too obvious. There‟ll be plenty of opportunity for you to learn how to suck a cock properly.”

He looked down, meeting Angel‟s eyes, noticing again how beautiful they were.

Angel opened his mouth, waiting, a look of innocent longing on his face. Kael rarely kissed anyone. His mum was lucky to get a peck on the cheek. There was something about kissing that was too intimate, especially during sex. Kissing took sex to another level of emotion that he never wanted to reach. He pressed his forehead to Angel‟s but did not kiss him, and allowed his pleasure to rise up and spill over, breathing hard, biting back the moans that wanted to escape but had to be suppressed.

Afterward they sat for a long time, not speaking. It was only when the steward returned that Kael pulled Angel‟s hand from inside his underwear and zipped himself up. When he tipped the boy‟s chin up to look at him, he saw Angel was fast asleep.

The steward looked wistful. “He‟s a lucky boy.”

Kael took a fleeting look at the man‟s crotch, which bulged slightly. He could have the bloke in the toilets any time he wanted. He looked down at the top of Angel‟s blond head and felt perfectly content, not wanting anyone just then.

“Can I get you anything, sir? Anything at all.” He looked hopeful.

“No, thank you. I‟m good, but perhaps another time,” Kael said and waited until he left.

Awkwardly, because he did not want to disturb Angel, he took his book and pen from his inside pocket. For an instant Misha‟s happy face filled his consciousness, followed quickly by the last time he had seen her, with her dark hair floating around her head as she went under, the water turning red with her blood.

He began to write.

I was standing out on the balcony of the tenements where we lived. It was
nighttime, but I could see the courtyard four floors below because it was well lit,
supposedly to reduce crime. My mum’s boyfriend, Gary Burke, was beating her up,
not for the first time, and she was screaming bloody murder, cursing him, fucking
this and fucking that.

He was screaming back, calling her a dirty slag between slaps and punches. A
man and woman walked past arm in arm, but they didn’t stop and they didn’t offer
to call the police.

Gary was shouting at her, “Give me your fucking wages. I’ve got no fucking
money till my dole comes on Friday.”

Gary lived on social services, one cheque to the next. It didn’t go far when you
were addicted to anything you could put in your arm or up your nose.

I started running down the steps. I was small for my age then and my legs felt
like they were going to collapse under me. They felt like candy floss from the
fairground. At the bottom of the steps Gary looked bigger than he did when I was
four floors up. I was scared stiff of him even though he was skeletal from doing
drugs, and not very tall. He had my mum by the hair and he was forcing her down
on the ground calling her dog shite.

I threw myself at his legs, and when punching him had no effect, I bit him. My
sharp little teeth sank right through his dirty, worn jeans into his calf. He screamed
and let go of my mum.

He screamed, “Little fucker, I’ll kill you.” I ran and he started chasing me
across the courtyard. I ran toward the playground where I played after school most
days, unattended, while my mum went to do her shift at the launderette in the
precinct.

Gary caught me when I was halfway up the steps of the slide. I thought he
couldn’t get me if I went up there, but he grabbed me by the back of my shirt and
pulled me off. He was smacking the hell out of me by the time my mum got to us. She
took off her shoe and began to clobber him on the head with it. If she had fought him
like that when he was beating her up she would have won.

She screamed, “Nobody hits my son.”

He had to stop because blood was pouring down his face. Mum always wore
high heels, even to work in the launderette and the sharp stilettos had done damage
to Gary’s head. He began to stagger away across the playground. Mum grabbed my
hand and said, “Come on luv.”

She began to climb the steps of the slide and I followed her. At the top she sat
me on her knee. From up there we could see Gary still staggering towards the road.

“Fuck him. Nobody hits my Kael,” she said. She hugged me tight and we slid down
the slide together. It was a long slide and we went so fast that at the bottom we flew
off and Mum landed on her backside, but I was cushioned because I was sitting on
her. She started to laugh and I laughed too. I didn’t know why I was laughing
because I was only five years old and both of us were sore from being hit by Gary. I
laughed because she laughed.

She said, “No more of that bastard. From now on it’s just you and me.” Even at
that age I didn’t believe her. We didn’t see Gary again, but it didn’t matter because
there was a string of others just like him, useless, lazy, always on drugs or booze.

They were all addicted to something and she was addicted to them. She never
let any of them say or do anything bad to me, but she always let them treat her like
shite.

3Kael put the diary away in his pocket. Looking down at the blond head resting on his shoulder, so trusting, fast asleep, without a care in the world, he kissed the top of Angel‟s head.