Of Angel's Blood (Chronicles of The Order Book 2)

by Martyn Currill

  Having her around was going to make life a lot more bearable.

  After what seemed like a far less taxing day, we closed up the office and parted ways - neither of us wanted to give people an excuse to start a rumour that had no foundation, so Lorelei went back to her room to get changed into less formal clothes.

  I walked back to my own quarters in silence, lost in my own thoughts. A few members of staff would stop me and thank me for saving the organisation, which I brushed off - I didn’t do it because I wanted to, I did it because it was necessary, and fate made me key to the insurrection’s success.

  I got to what was now my room, glad to shut the world out for a few hours. Living without Corvi was unbelievably hard, especially given the loss of the psychic bond we’d shared - for just under two years I’d had her voice in my head, like subtle whispers even when she wasn’t sending me anything specific, but since her death there was a crippling silence in my mind.

  I got changed from my ‘business’ clothes - a dark blue shirt, smart black trousers and plain black shoes - into something more comfortable. I grabbed some faded black jeans and a dark grey T-shirt, poured a glass from the small keg that had been left in the room and sat down in one of my chairs.

  The benefit of the room that had once been Sharriana’s was its size - it was even bigger than the room Corvi and I had frequently shared back at the Oxford base. Sharriana had used it primarily as a scrying room, so I’d had most of her useless furniture thrown out and my own things moved in. A decent double bed - because I was just used to the size of a double now - a small table with a couple of chairs (specially ordered), a decent chest of drawers and a bookcase for my recreational reading.

  I hadn’t been sat down long when there was a knock at my door, and I had a good idea who it was.

  “It’s open,” I said, loud enough for my guest to hear me, and as I suspected it was Lori who entered.

  She had also changed out of her more official clothes, into a dark green tank top and a pair of black leather trousers. She also wore a black satin choker, from which hung a small pentacle of heavy pewter, a symbol of her Wiccan faith.

  She closed the door behind her and just leaned against it for a moment, and as I crossed over to greet her she held her arms out to me. She squeezed her eyes closed as I put my arms around her, burying her face in my shoulder as she hugged me tightly, and it was only a moment before I felt the moisture seeping through my T-shirt.

  Evidently, she’d also been putting on a brave face for the last few weeks.

  I held her close, feeling comfortable enough around Lori to shed some tears myself - our mutual grief was what forged our friendship, and I finally felt that I could let go as well.

  I don’t know how long we stood there in each other’s arms, crying for the loss of a woman we both loved, but eventually the tension seemed to leave her and she slowly let go of me.

  “Drink?” I asked, drying my eyes, and she nodded as she did the same.

  I moved back to the keg and poured a second glass, while Lori made herself comfortable in my spare seat.

  “I don’t know what this stuff is, but it’s quite good,” I told her, placing the drink in front of her and taking my own seat again. She took a drink immediately, speaking to me in her own time as was often her way.

  “I hadn’t realised how much I needed that,” she said softly, staring at her beer. “And...I’m sorry I haven’t checked in with you before now, either.”

  “It’s fine, Lori, really-”

  “No it isn’t,” she said, still sniffing occasionally from her emotional outburst. “I know all too well what it’s like to have no-one else to turn to in grief, no-one else who understands your pain. That was me before we made the attack, wasn’t it?”

  I nodded stiffly as I remembered how ill she’d looked, when I had visited her to see how she was coping. It was the first time we had spoken together about our pain, and that was the first night she shared my bed simply as a friend.

  “I should have known,” she continued, “because of that, how hard it must’ve been for you. So...I’m sorry for that.”

  “Seriously, don’t beat yourself up about it,” I told her. “Do you feel a bit better now?”

  She nodded quietly.

  “Yeah. Could do with making this a regular thing though, to be honest.” She rubbed at her eyes, then reached up to pull out her hairband.

  “Well, you know you’re always welcome, Lori,” I told her, watching her copper hair spill down around the top of her shoulders. Last time I’d seen her, it had barely made the bottom of ears.

  I also thought, with a large spike of guilt, how beautiful she looked.

  “Will, um...will it be okay to stay here tonight?” she asked, a little more sheepishly than I was used to from her. “Last time was...it helped a lot.”

  “Of course you can,” I told her. “You’re right, it did help a lot. I actually got some proper sleep, for a change.”

  We began talking of Corvi again soon after that, with Lori curious about what it was like being Blood-sworn, as Corvi and I had been. I told her that it defies easy description, because often it isn’t words that pass between you, it’s the emotions at the heart of them, the meaning rendered down into its purest form and untainted by such clumsy concepts as language.

  She called me ‘overly-poetic’ at that, although she said it with a grin.

  I asked her to talk about what Corvi was like long before I met her, to which I was told that she was mostly the same - just as graceful, just as confident in herself and her skill. She was much colder to the prospect of romance however, seeing it as an unnecessary distraction, while Lori had thought it was more important than that. Funny how their attitudes changed over the years.

  “You know, I was going through the requests earlier,” she said, clearly leading to something, “and one of them was for a...well, I guess a party, of sorts. Kind of like a celebration of our victory.”

  “I’d rather not be celebrating when we lost so many people,” I answered coldly, then I thought for a moment. “Unless, of course, we also celebrate the lives of those we lost.”

  “I think that was the intent,” she said, smiling again. It was good to see her smile. She didn’t wear pain well. “Anyway, I bring it up because I think you should go.”

  “Why?”

  “It might help you to move on,” she answered quickly, the softness in her tone speaking of her concern for me again.

  “I don’t want to move on, Lori.” I could feel fresh tears burning in my eyes again. “Corvi was everything to me, you know that, but-”

  “But what? You’d rather just sit around being miserable and lonely for the rest of your life?” Her retort was heated, almost angry, and the suddenness of the outburst caught me off-guard. She calmed herself again before she continued.

  “Deimos...I know that it hurts, but Corvi would not want you destroying yourself for her sake.”

  “I’m not interested in dating again, Lori. Not for a while, at least.”

  “And I never said that. Goddess, you really are an idiot at times,” she told me with an affectionate smile. “I just mean you should go and socialise. Show the people around you that you haven’t curled up into a ball to shut the world out.”

  I sighed heavily. She had a point, but I still wasn’t sure if I wanted to face the world yet.

  “I’ll think about it,” I told her. “But give the party the go-ahead.”

  “Will do, boss. Just...make sure you think about it. For me.”

  For some reason, that made the request far more important, and I nodded my assurance.

  She stood up for a moment and stretched, and something caught my eye.

  “Not so worried about showing it off, huh?” I said with a sly smirk of my own, and Lorelei looked down to see what caught my attention.

  Her tank top had been specifically styled to show of a small amount of midriff, and her trousers had a relatively low waist, which meant there was a one
-inch gap between the two items of clothing - just enough to expose the vicious scar that ran from her right hip to just below her navel.

  “Eh,” she said with a small shrug. “I was never fond of bikinis anyway. Besides, it’s just further proof that I’m not dead yet.”

  “You nearly were,” I told her, remembering all too clearly the way she’d been bleeding when I found her during the attack. If it hadn’t been for the increased psychic power I’d acquired, I would’ve lost a close friend shortly after losing my wife.

  “Well, I didn’t, thanks to my guardian angel,” she told me with a broad smile. “I’m heading to bed, boss. You coming?”

  I nodded, and moved to my chest of drawers to grab some boxer shorts for the night.

  “Gimme a sec to change then,” I told her, and walked off to my attached bathroom.

  “Your bed is ridiculously comfortable,” she told me as I re-entered, from her position at the edge of my bed. Apparently she’d gotten as far as pushing her boots off and left it at that.

  “It serves its purpose,” I said noncommittally, sitting down on the other side and making sure I had an alarm set for the following morning. I supposed it was only right that I get to work at a reasonable time.

  I turned to say something to Lori, just in time to see her pulling her trousers off. I turned away almost immediately, but I still caught a glimpse of black lace.

  If I still had a pulse, it would have been sent racing.

  “Um...wh-what are you doing?” I stammered, becoming very, very interested in the other side of the room until I was sure Lori was in bed. Unfortunately she sat down on the edge again, and stayed there while she answered me.

  “Well, we’re trying not give off the wrong impression, so I can hardly turn up here with an overnight bag,” she answered. “Also, this is how I sleep. Get used to it.”

  I waited for a moment while Lori got comfortable, and then finally turned around. Thankfully, she had, as I thought, gotten into bed.

  “I just don’t understand the problem,” she added, shifting a little to find the best spot.

  “Sharing a bed when we’re both weary to the point of passing out is one thing, but...deliberately sharing a bed still feels...a little awkward to me.”

  She seemed to sigh at me. I wasn’t sure.

  “How old are you now?” she asked.

  “Twenty. Must be the world’s youngest widower.”

  “Well, aside from Corvi, how many other women have you been with?”

  I didn’t answer. My throat had suddenly betrayed me in that moment. In the sudden silence, Lori sat bolt upright.

  “You’re shitting me,” she said.

  “I’m really not.”

  “Shit. So you were a-”

  “Yes,” I interrupted. I still hated that word. “Thanks for the reminder.”

  “Shit,” she repeated, completely surprised.

  “Do we have to discuss this?”

  “Shit.”

  “We’ve established that, Lori, thank you,” I added firmly. “Now, are we done examining my sexual history?”

  She lowered her head, her exotic features showing her remorse.

  “I’m sorry boss,” she told me softly. “But it’s like I said before, we aren’t doing anything. There’s no reason to feel awkward, or guilty, or any of that. We’re close friends, and we’re just helping each other through the grief.”

  “But it just-”

  “Deimos.”

  I looked at her, forcing myself to meet her emerald eyes, and she smiled warmly at me.

  “Seriously, just come to bed. Get some sleep. Remember that I’m here for you, just as you’re here for me.”

  She laid back down, and reluctantly I joined her under the covers, my awkwardness keeping me tense.

  She sighed again, feeling around with her hand and finally locating my arm.

  “Come here,” she told me, pulling on my arm and forcing me closer to her. She settled my arm around her waist and rested her hand over mine, and eventually I felt the tension ease. I still felt awkward, and almost sick with guilt, but I relaxed enough to finally sleep.

  I prayed that if Corvi saw me from some kind of afterlife, she wouldn’t hate me. I couldn’t bear the thought.

  CHAPTER 2

  Asserted authority

  I awoke to an empty bed, and briefly wondered why that thought saddened me. Then I remembered that it had only been two months since my wife’s death, and it still hurt. It hurt less with Lori as a friend, and exacting my revenge against Sharriana gave me some peace, but it still hurt.

  I got up and got dressed, opting for a midnight blue shirt for a change, as well as my usual smart black trousers and shoes. That done, I made my way to the office, only half-surprised when I saw Lorelei already at work. She seemed to be having a polite argument with someone on the phone, and knowing what I knew of Lorelei, I didn’t rate the other person’s chances.

  “-derstand your concerns, Prime Minister,” she said, and I almost tripped over on the way to my own desk. “But the fact is that we are not the ones causing the issues, it is the hunter groups - many of which are funded by your government - which continue to force us to take action we would rather avoid.”

  There was a moment of silence while she listened to the response, and she suddenly spoke as if cutting off the Prime Minister’s tirade.

  “Well that may be how you see things, but I can assure you it is not the case,” she said hotly. “We’ve just ended the reign of a madwoman whose personal crusade will have brought our forces into contention with your own, and that is regrettable, but ultimately we are not responsible for the majority of the problems you claim.”

  Another silence, and Lorelei appeared satisfied with the response.

  “That is all we could ask of you. Good day, Prime Minister.”

  She slammed the phone down and swore viciously in Vampiric.

  “S’kevyas! I fucking hate politicians!”

  “Problems?” I asked gently, waiting for my computer to wake up.

  “Not anymore, thanks to my unmitigated genius and excellent people skills,” she replied, beaming with pride.

  “And they say modesty is dead.”

  “Hey, if it weren’t for me, we’d be getting booted out of the British Midlands,” she said, picking up a clipboard and walking over to me.

  “So, there’s that,” she told me, stopping in front of my desk. She looked both professional and attractive, dressed in a jade silk blouse and black pencil skirt, her hair tied into a neat bun.

  Then I realised it was inappropriate for me to be staring, and my cheeks heated with shame. Thankfully she didn’t notice.

  “So here’s the run-down, boss,” she announced in her usual laconic drawl. “Kalin wants permission to name Valden as the head of that little base you set up in Upper Heyford. I said you trust his judgement, but if there are issues you will want to be kept updated.”

  “Good, I definitely trust his judgement. What else?”

  “Well, the boys and girls at R and D have a little project they’d like signed off - something that protects against the effects of flashbang grenades?”

  “Definitely, that sounds like a big deal. Sign it off, then also see if we can export it to any of our allies, make a bit of profit on it.”

  “Our allies, who also maintain anti-vampire units of their own militaries?”

  “Fair point,” I conceded.

  “I gave the party the go-ahead this morning, the organisers are happy and say it’ll be ready in a month or so. Markus’ repair efforts continue to make excellent progress, the holes in the runway have been filled in and the main gate has been replaced, and is being tested this morning.”

  I heaved a sigh of relief. How I ever coped without her help, I don’t know.

  Just as I was about to tell her as much there was a knock at the door, and Lorelei walked over with her usual liquid grace, opened the door and took a tray from someone, before closing it again.

>   I frowned in confusion for a moment.

  “You know, I leave my office door open for a reason, Lori.”

  “And it will be,” she said. “After you’ve had breakfast.”

  She set the tray down in front of me, passing me a small glass of chilled blood and a plate of toast, before arranging her own similar meal and fetching her chair.

  “How did you know I didn’t have breakfast?” I asked, drinking the blood less greedily than the previous day.

  “Because I didn’t either,” she confessed, tucking into her toast.

  I smiled at her and shook my head, and carried on with my breakfast. I was beginning to wonder how I’d cope when she wasn’t around - I couldn’t keep her as my aide forever, after all - because in the space of twenty-four hours she had proven herself to be immensely helpful.

  Plus, she was the only one keeping me sane.

  “I was worried when you weren’t there this morning,” I told her, instantly regretting saying it. It was a stupid thing to say, and it implied there was more between us than there actually was.

  However, if she noticed the impropriety, it didn’t bother her.

  “Sorry, I just thought it’d be helpful if I got a head start on the reports,” she told me with a smile.

  “Well, it certainly did that,” I told her, laughing to hide my relief. She was a good friend - an exceptional friend, actually - and I had no intention of ruining that.

  “Before we open the door,” I started, turning serious for a moment, “how soon can we get to Toronto?”

  She sighed in disgust, her features contorting in annoyance.

  “This is about Kara Silvaine again, isn’t it?” I nodded in silence. “Deimos, I warned you to-”

  “And your warning is duly noted,” I interjected, finally asserting my authority, “but I have to find out why Sharriana still had her on that list. What she wanted to achieve, and how Kara could help us.”

  Lorelei sighed again.

  “Alright, fine. Let me make some enquiries today to find out if she’s still there, and I’ll get back to you. On one condition.”