Page 6 of Angels of the Night
CHAPTER 5
“Zev, is that you? I thought...they told me you...god, how happy I am you are alive and well!” The MI5 agent ran to greet the young man dressed in camouflage uniform, only to be brutally rejected.
“Get out of my way, you heartless murderer and torturer! You are happy I'm alive? What about Cedric, who succumbed to the wounds inflicted by those who paid you to betray us? Or Phillip, who was subjected to psychological torture and lost his mind? What about them, you traitorous bastard?”
“Zev, calm down, I...I don't understand what are you talking about. Let's start all over again: what happened and when? I was in England. I couldn't ignore a direct order and risk to be accused of insubordination. As I’ve told you, my role in this mission was reduced and temporary. I only served as a liaison agent. I have no idea what...”
“How convenient, wreak havoc here, and then go and never look back. You killed my friend and partner, one of the most promising young agents this institution had, used my body and crushed my soul. I hope you are happy now.” The younger man turned his back and started to walk away, shoulders slumped, head lowered.
“Zev, wait! I swear on my brother's grave I didn't do anything to Cedric or Phillip. Why would I? Did you listen a word from what I’ve told you?” The older man blocked the younger one's way, cupping his face with both hands.
“Stop using that poor boy to make people feel sorry for you. He would turn in his grave if he knew how low you stooped. And don't you ever say my name again. I forbid you to. I trusted you with my deepest secrets. I let you into my soul, but it wasn't enough. You made me your whore, had me on all fours, panting, at your beck and call. I gave you my heart, but you threw it to the hounds of hell and laughed when they ate it.”
“You are very upset right now, and obstinately refuse to talk to me and explain what happened after I left. I think you should go home, have some rest and leave this discussion for when your mind is clear. I love you, Zev Abramsky, and I will continue to, no matter what.” The older man brushed his lips against the younger's ones, but only for a brief moment.
“I hate you, Llewellyn Saint-James, with all that's left of my soul, with every beat of my crushed, bleeding heart. I hope your death will be as horrible and painful as the one your accomplices reserved for Cedric. If I am nearby, I'll come to see how the devil takes your black soul to hell.”
Saint woke up, soaked in sweat, shivering slightly and with his heart heavy with sadness, as happened every night since Caleb had gone missing. The man spent hours in bed, wide awake, sleep avoiding him, and when finally he managed to doze off, that part of his painful past came back to haunt him in the form of that dream.
For Saint, dreams were messages sent from the forces from above, and he never ignored them, although in most cases he didn't decipher their meaning until later on. His younger brother Alvin, whose life was brutally ended at the age of fourteen, appeared in Saint's dreams a few days before his arrival at The Base, a sanctuary for kids rescued from the same dire situation the poor boy landed in.
Looking in retrospect, the message of that dream was clear as daylight, but the man was afraid to look into the meaning of the one that had been troubling his sleep over the past few nights. Emptiness, devastation, betrayal and an immense pain were the emotions he felt radiating from the one who was everything to him.
That emotionally and physically scarred man, so lonely and vulnerable, but so strong at the same time, left as unexpectedly as he came into Saint's life, leaving a void in his heart no one and nothing could fill. Until he met Caleb, with his shy, barely there smile; magnificent, turquoise eyes; and low, sweet voice, a healing balm on Saint's aching, tired soul.
The young man warmed his heart, melting the block of ice holding it captive, and he started to flirt with him. However, after a discussion with Ardan, who reminded him about the considerable age gap between the two of them, Saint started to back down. Caleb's brother was right. A man his age and with his past had nothing to offer to someone so full of life like the youngest of the MacNamara brothers was.
Saint tried to look the other way every time he crossed paths with Caleb but couldn't ignore the hurt expression on the young man's face every time he did. And then, all of a sudden, Lothier came with the news that the boss's youngest brother was missing, and Saint was afraid that he would lose him forever. It was a foolish thought because Caleb never belonged to him to begin with.
After only a few hours, a radiant smile on his lips, Ardan announced to everyone that his younger brother was safe and sound but couldn't be brought to The Base because of a wound that had to heal properly. No matter how hard Saint and Lothier tried to make him talk, the man didn't disclose the location where Caleb was found.
The only details he gave was the rescuer's name, Zachary, and the fact that he used traditional herbal medicine to treat the wound. Ardan also praised the man's dedication in taking care of his younger brother, and Saint felt a pang of jealousy at the thought of that guy's hands roaming all over Caleb's body when he changed the bandages and disinfected the wound.
Shaking his head at those thoughts, the man closed his eyes and, after a while, drifted asleep. Fortunately, the dream didn't come back to haunt him, so when he woke up, at the crack of dawn, Saint felt refreshed and invigorated, ready to start a new day at The Base, as Ardan's right hand. He and Lothier had a tacit deal, permanently keeping an eye on the boss and discreetly taking upon themselves to relieve him of some of his responsibilities.
The man was about to step out of the house, when the buzz of his phone stopped him in his tracks. The sender and content of the incoming message made Saint freeze to the spot, the significance of the dream haunting his nights finally revealed. With shaky fingers, he locked the door behind him, heading to The Base on foot.
The man felt the need to clear his mind before talking to Ardan and walking the quarter of mile between the house he shared with Doc Magnus and Gunnar was the best way to do that. A million thoughts were roiling in his head, almost all of them centered around the message. Also, Saint couldn't help to feel sorry for Ardan, who needed his help then more than ever, the situation with his youngest brother adding to the list of things to worry about.
“Good morning, how are you? Not too good, judging by the way you look.” Lothier greeted Saint, studying him with worried eyes.
“You've come to know me very well. I hope I'm not that easy to read by others, too. I've got a message from MI5, and I have to talk to the boss. Is he inside?”
Lothier nodded, a veil of sadness clouding his eyes. “Busy as always. I don't know how long he can go on at this rate. He is cornered, exhausted, in dire need of a break, but won't admit it to anyone.”
“Man, I already feel like a traitor for having to leave,” Saint let out a long, frustrated sigh. “I wish there was another way to solve this, but I'm afraid I have no other option.”
“Go and talk to him. Together you'll figure out the best solution. Caleb's coming back will lift a heavy weight from the boss's shoulders. He'll have one thing less to worry about.” Lothier gave the other man an encouraging smile, patting him on the back. “I have to attend my duties. Talk to you later.”
“Come in. You are early,” Ardan spoke from the other side of the door in reply to Saint softly knocking three times in a row. “Good morning and take a seat. What brings you here?”
“I received a message this morning from my former MI5 superiors, informing me that I've been reactivated and asking me to report for duty. I have two days to get to London. I don't know how long I'll be gone. I'm terribly sorry for creating problems. You already have enough on your plate as it is. And good morning.” Saint smiled apologetically, shifting into the chair.
“Do what you have to do, things are under control here. I have Lothier, and Brennan will be back next week, too. You took and oath, pledged your loyalty to the MI5. You can't turn your back on them. There must a good reason why they summoned you. On the other hand, although I'm beyond grateful for all the help, you don't owe anything to this place or any of us.” Ardan ran a hand over his face, sighing tiredly.
“I'm sorry I can't do more for The Base...and you. How is Caleb?” Saint regretted asking the question as soon as the last word left his mouth, afraid that Ardan would interpret his interest in the wrong way, but there was nothing he could do about it.
“He is getting better by the day. I may be mistaken, but he seems happier there than he was atThe Base over the past few months. That Zachary guy takes good care of him, plus is a god of engines. Maybe Caleb can convince him to move here and open a garage of some sorts. He'll have plenty of work.” Saint saw Ardan smiling for the first time in days, a bright, genuine one.
“It would be really awesome, yes. We won't have to listen to Dunstan's and Winter's groans and complaints about the state of those cans they call trucks, and the lack of a mechanic who should be able to fix the unfixable.” Saint checked his watch, sighing. “Well, I should be going my way and stop wasting your precious time. Have a great day!”
He stepped out of the office, heading to the guards' headquarters, his heart aching dully at the thought of the Caleb's rescuer being welcomed with open arms at The Base. He hadn’t met the man, but already considered him a threat, a competitor to Ardan's younger brother's affection.
You put distance between the two of you, rejected Caleb's attempts of getting close and win your heart. Because of your stupid hesitation, the man who offered you his heart on a silver platter is in another one's arms, and it's time to accept this. Stop complaining like a snotty kid who broke his favorite toy, admit you screwed it up royally and accept the consequences of your actions, Saint mentally scolded himself.
Maybe the message coming from his MI5 superiors was a sign. Maybe his life was someplace else, or maybe happiness just wasn't for him. Suddenly, the man was relieved, almost happy, at the thought of his impending departure as it allowed Caleb to be happy without feeling guilty. I won't come back to The Base once the mission was finished, Saint decided, there was nothing and no one waiting for me there.