The Curse Mark: Chapter Eight


Kisa Kevser was very kind.  She was patient, and she cared.  Those were the qualities of a pure angel.  But like any living being that could think, Kisa had thoughts on everything.  And she was not afraid to voice them when given the opportunity.  Lennox noticed this.  He noticed everything that was related to his little protégé because whatever happened to her, whatever she did, reflected on him.  Kisa though, was nearly perfect, if only she held her tongue a bit more.  But she couldn’t—didn’t know how to in any circumstance.

Lennox looked over at the long line of homeless youths waiting for their serve of soup for the night.  Each and every one of them had an expression on his or her face that communicated something, a feeling of great sadness.  Angels of the third rank were more in tune with the feelings of humans in conjunction with maintaining an objective stance toward them.  But third rank had fewer obligations to maintain objectivity compared to someone in second, and least of all the first rank.  Those in the first rank were closest the Almighty, and were least in tune with humans, and generally could not care less about them.  Standing here in this shelter was not entirely what someone of his rank should be doing.  But he thought it was a good place to start.  It was a good place for Lennox to isolate the pros and cons of Kisa Kevser, and then from there, slowly whittle away her cons and reshape her as the perfect angel she should be.

“We need more soup Lennox.” Lennox turned around to see Kisa standing there.  She had dress that covered the gems inset on her chest today, and one that made her look more innocent and childish than the other.   He also noticed that the sleeves, while gauze, were long and covered her arms entirely.

Lennox looked around for more soup, but one sweep of the kitchen told him exactly what he thought, “no more.  There’s no more.”  Turning back to the line though, he knew he would have to be the unlucky one to tell them that this meal was over.  Before he could though, Kisa’s hand was on his arm, and her musical voice said, “It’s okay, I will tell them Lennox.”

Lennox.  His name was pronounced Lennex, but the way she said it, made it sound more magical and desirable than how others said it, with the exception of Cara de Vries.

Nodding slightly, he watched her walk over to the line.  It shouldn’t have been shocking to see how her presence lightened the knowledge she was about to give the ones who missed out.

“Extraordinary angel, that one,” said Alona.  She was the manager of the shelter for the day. With long dark red hair and sharp eyes, she was also a human.    And she was a hard worker, even though every day she wore the same high stilettos and tight, face-stretching ponytail updo.  Alona looked taller than Kisa, but if he took her shoes away, Lennox was sure they were about the height.  She turned her eyes to look at Lennox, dark brown, with a glow of red, it took Lennox a moment longer to realise that she was younger than she seemed.  Tilting her head up to look at Lennox, she added, with a faint smile, “And I don’t think she’s in the right business.  Speaking of business, I don’t suppose she could partake in a shoot, with hair like that, she would fit right into the underwater theme we have going on at the moment at Bellezza.”

Lennox smiled sadly, “unfortunately no, she cannot.  But I understand what you mean,” he said in a fair and firm manner, so that she would not think to try and persuade him otherwise.

The girl smiled tightly and it was evident, she was hardly deterred by his words at all.

When Kisa came back to join them, she smiled politely at Alona, greeting and also saying her goodbye the way any good little angel would before Lennox took her away.  Lennox smiled at Alona, there’s no way I would leave you alone with her.  Alona though returned the smile, her eyes narrowed clearly reflecting the endless determination the girl was known for; she wouldn’t give up.  Which meant, if Lennox intended to fulfil his mentorship, he had to keep an even more watchful eye on Kisa to ensure that she did in fact learn to maintain angelic composure.

Outside, in the arid heat, Lennox tucked his forefinger under the collar of his polo and pulled it away from his neck.  Running his finger along the collar, he tried to widen the space as much as possible to let out the suffocating heat that was trapped between his body and the shirt he was wearing.  It wasn’t working.

“Like this.” Kisa reached up and loosen the buttons at the top of his polo.  Buttons he had buttoned up to maintain a sense of decency.  “You’ll be more comfortable that way,” she said smiling.

It was a genuine smile.  All day so far, all he had seen from her were genuine smiles.   Yet, he had noticed too, that there were moments when she looked away and a shadow fell over her smile, revealing an expression of sorrow.

Lennox reached out, feeling relieved, though no less cooler, and said, “thank you, you didn’t have to.”

“You looked uncomfortable,” she said, putting a hand on his chest.  Lennox flinched.  Even though judging from her expression, it was not an intimate gesture, Lennox felt the heat in his cheeks anyway.  It was shameful to say the least.  He prided himself in being a man of extraordinary chivalry and not at all a rake in any way.  He would not touch someone who was years younger than him, let alone thinking about doing so.  Except he had once, in the past.  Though she was not young, she had been young to him, and still he had been tempted by her.   Tempted into breaking his own morals and questioning them.   And in the end, he betrayed her, but not because of her, not because she wasn’t the same as how others portrayed her.  In the end, he had done it, choosing the lesser of two pains, and sticking with the angel code.  He had stuck with his own kind, and had broken a promise in order to fulfil another.  But he would not do it again.  Kisa was just a young angel, and though her gesture right now seemed intimate, it was not.  He could feel his muscles contracted under his skin as a searing pain covered his chest.  Lennox felt cold, and it was no wonder why.  There was ice on his chest now, underneath his shirt, almost adhered to him.  It was painful as much as it was a relief.

“Better?” Kisa asked looking innocently up at him.

“Yes.” In a manner of speaking.  It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the entire truth either.  Somehow though, he could not bring himself to say that it was incredibly uncomfortable.

“Good, so where to now, mentor?”

Lennox blinked, then cleared his throat, wishing the sun wasn’t as strong as it currently was, and said, “let’s get a drink and something to eat.”

“Again?  How many meals is that already?”

“It’ll be the second of your day, it’s quite a normal schedule for humans.”  He led her down the street.  Last night, everything had seemed so loud and chaotic, Riverton had been lost in the whirl of Halloween.  But today, everything seemed a lot more subdued, and the buildings had traces of last night’s revels still.

“So many meals, why are we eating so much?” She asked.

“Just because, it is the Almighty’s desire,” he answered jovially.  He wasn’t about to tell her the reason why they were eating again was because he intended to go to Adrienne’s Bar.   It almost felt like a lie to use the Almighty as a method of persuading his young charge.  Most angels did not feel hunger like mortals.  Most would not even bother to eat.  They could live without eating, but they couldn’t live without belief.  Belief.  Angels needed to believe in the Almighty in order to exist.  Without that belief, they died.  They were creatures, originally soldiers and messengers of the skies.  They ruled the skies, it was their domain.  And their motto was ‘believe’.  Fallen angels did not become fallen because they didn’t believe.   They fell because their belief in something else outweighed their belief in the Almighty giving them a reason to rebel or react or choose to fall from the skies.

“It doesn’t make sense,” she replied not sure where to put her arms.  She didn’t seem comfortable with leaving her arms to dangle by her sides.

“Just cross your arm,” he suggested, ignoring her comment.  There was plenty he could respond with, but he doubted any of them would come out reasonably and/or calmly.

“Uncomfortable,” she said wincing in annoyance as if she did not want to feel annoyed at the possibility of not being able to do anything with her arms.  “Where are we going?”

“Adrienne’s.”  She was blunt, or was it better to say that she was frank?

Her eyes lit up, “Adrienne’s?  What kind of place is Adrienne’s?  It sounds classy.”

Lennox thought about the woman who ran the bar.  On relatively good terms with Cara de Vries, Lennox didn’t often go to the bar for precisely that reason.  But now he had to, because asides from being a high class bar fit for both the rich and not so rich, Adrienne was the centre for people coming and going, and she was known for collecting information.  If you wanted to know something, there was a more than likely chance Adrienne had heard a thing or two about it.  But Lennox could not tell what species she was, she seemed human enough, except for her abilities, not that she used them often, nor in a blatant way.   She was an enigma in that area.  All anyone knew was that she rolled into Riverton one day with permission from the Watchers to set up her bar and had been there ever since.  But Lennox had known her from before she had arrived in Riverton.

“It is, somewhat, do you like classier places?” Lennox took a left, and she followed, though she almost kept walking straight ahead.

“No, not really, but classy places are interesting to look at,” she replied a faint smile on her lips.

Lennox frowned, “Do you admire beautiful things?”

“Yes, I do,” she smiled again, this time, the smile reflected the earlier one.  This one had sadness to it.   But it didn’t take long for her expression to shift to fear, and she lifted her head higher to look at him, and said, “it’s not against what we are to admire beautiful things, is it?”

“No, it’s not,” he said after a moment, a hint of a laugh in his voice.  It was funny, her reaction, but at the same time, he could understand her caution.   Distance was key for angels in the second rank.  In order to fulfil their roles, second rank angels learnt to maintain objectivity and be indifferent to others.  But though it was compulsory for second rank angels to maintain this measure of distance, there were a number of archangels in first rank who often struggled with their roles and their closeness to the mortals.   “You must appreciate beauty in all forms.”

“Yes,” Kisa whispered, the fingers on her right hand shaping an imaginary sculpture in the air in front of her.

Lennox said nothing more.  He was a conversationalist normally, but of late, for anyone who knew him well, they would have recognised the change in him.  Gone was the usual joking manner, and plastered on his was a frown (which others better hope was only temporary).  Maybe every so often one might see a smile on his face, or fleetingly, that familiar joking mannerism, but for now, he looked like a man on a mission, and like someone who was severely unsettled by something that happened.  Or that hadn’t happened.  Yet.

Arriving at Adrienne’s Bar, the first thing Lennox did was button up his buttons again and hoped that the ice left on his chest by Kisa hadn’t melted into his polo.  Looking down, he was surprised to find that it hadn’t.  Watching Kisa as he held the door open for her, he wondered what else she had accomplished with her abilities.  Her father had informed him about how she’d been trained, but Lennox hadn’t expected much.

Inside, he looked around.  It was some time after one and there was still a huge crowd within the bar.

The last time Lennox had been in here, it had looked entirely different.  There had been more wood and less glass and crystal, and one room less.  Then, there hadn’t been a bartender other than Adrienne either.

Now though, there was a young man standing behind the bar looking bored.  His dark hair was sticking up as though he’d been pulling at it.  Len chuckled to himself lightly, well having to deal with Adrienne and her mood swings daily, I wouldn’t be surprised, he thought.

When the young man with the hair spotted Lennox walking up to the bar, he said gruffly, “what can I do for you?”

Polite.  Polite, and not much older than Lennox visible age which was curiously interesting.  Though, Lennox presumed that if this guy was any less polite, he would have been fired.

“I’m looking for Adrienne.”  The bartender’s light grey eyes flickered to Kisa, though unlike a certain motel manager, the gaze was pure and innocent, more annoyed than lusty.  “Is she here?”

The man snorted, “she’s always here.”

“Never leaves, does she?” Lennox responded, smirking lightly.

The corner of the man’s lips twitched, and he brought his eyes back to Lennox, “you bet.  Do you have an appointment with her?”

“No, I don’t, but she knows me.”  Lennox’s little visit now was not like all the other visitors that Adrienne received.

“And who would ‘me’ be?” An eyebrow rose in the air, and the bartender’s voice stiffened a bit.

Not that Lennox entirely understood why. He just answered good naturedly, “Lennox Vanderwerken.”

The name didn’t bring any light of familiarity in the bartender’s eyes.  Lennox hadn’t expected it since neither he nor the bartender had ever come across each other’s paths during their lifetimes.  But his name was definitely familiar to Adrienne who had been standing at the top of the stairs about to walk down when Lennox entered.

“Lennox Vanderwerken,” said a thick voice behind the bartender.  The bartender turned, a look of surprise crossing over his face.  He hadn’t noted Adrienne there, and it seemed to aggravate him more than the fact that Lennox was asking for Adrienne like he was a special friend or something.  Lennox blinked in surprise, not having noticed her there either, and then smiled slowly.  If anyone noted that there was something not quite right with his smile, no one mentioned it.  Smiling sure was hard these days.

“Adrienne,” he responded politely even going so far as to bow a little, incline his head in acknowledgement.

“What are you doing here?” She asked her eyes scanned over his body, from his dark auburn hair that was a little too long, to the buttoned-to-the-top polo he wore, to the scabbarded sword strapped to his back.  “I had the impression that you didn’t like my bar.”

“I don’t.” His reply was so instantaneous Kisa next to him turned her head sharply in surprise.

Lennox looked down at her, and with one slight frown to her silently told her not to say anything before looking back up at Adrienne, and adding, “But I’d like to speak with you, if you have a moment.”

“Why do I get the impression that I don’t really have much choice?”

Lennox grinned widely, “You always have a choice.”  It was quite true, she did have a choice, and it was not like Lennox intended to force her to speak with him, but for the many years that Lennox had been alive, he’d known Adrienne.

Adrienne harrumphed, and left herself pass through the wooden gateway to the other side of the bar top.  Walking back up to Lennox, she looked at her bartender and said, “Al, look after the bar, Len and I are going over there.”

“And me?” Kisa looked up at him.

“You stay here, have a look around, but don’t annoy the bartender, and don’t drink.”  Normally, Lennox would have preferred to bring her with him, but truthfully, he did not want her to know what he was doing.  It might give her the wrong impression, and Lennox did not need that right now.  He had enough on his plate to worry about.  Amongst general Power and Authority duties, such as maintaining peace because of his status as a Warrior P&A, he had to mentor Kisa, shape her into someone like himself, and also, someone not like himself, and most importantly, he was looking for Caprice.

Where had that guy gone?  After risking Cara’s wrath to save Caprice, the angel had disappeared.  Without a word.  Despite it being over a century ago, Lennox had yet to find him.

“Sit Lennox Vanderwerken,” said Adrienne gesturing to one side of the booth they had arrived at while wearing an irritated expression on her face.  “I have a headache, stop staring.”

“I wasn’t staring.” He put his hands up in surrender and looked as innocent as possible.

“It’s a marvel how you can manage to look so innocent while really, you aren’t,” said Adrienne pouring herself a glass of water and breaking out a panadol from its foil casing.

So she knew about him and Cara de Vries.  Not surprising, they were friends, allies of a kind, and no doubt, Lennox was in the worst position when it came to Cara de Vries right now.  Hence why he had avoided Adrienne’s so often, to avoid Cara for a little longer (or so he told himself every time he side stepped passed Adrienne’s).

“You don’t come by often enough, what if I needed you,” said Adrienne, eyes partly closed and her fingers massaging her temple.

“I hardly think you’ve needed my services.”  He watched her.   She seemed a little stressed, though, he remembered the days when they first met.  Adrienne had been significantly less in control of her moods, and swinging more freely from high to low.  Her good days had been rare, and no amount of painkiller or pain relieving herbs could ease the headaches she received.  But for some reason the light that exuded from him could temporarily relieve her pain.  “You look better these days.”

“Better, what a liar you are,” she said rubbing her temple.  “My headaches are hardly ever any better.”

Reaching forward, he sighed, and said, “do you want some light?”  Lennox put his hand over her fingers.  The table between them was not a wide table and designed to bring customer’s closer together without feeling cramped and tiny.  Adrienne’s vision had been for people to be able to come in here, to feel cosy and at the same time, feel happy at the same time.

His hands glowed faintly, but there was no heat, not at this level of usage anyway.  An expression of serenity passed over Adrienne’s face, and if it weren’t for Lennox’s arm partially shielding her face, then she would have requested him to do so, since this face she was showing was not the kind of face that she would just show anyone.

“Your light was always the best,” she murmured.

“Yeah, so you’ve said.  I am curious however, despite the fact that you are not naturally French, how is it that you have such a heavy, yet delectable French accent?” He asked, noticing her familiar accent.  For as long as he’d known her, she had always had that accent, but it had not always sounded as strong, or was it just because he wasn’t around often enough to hear it?

Her eyes snapped open and she pushed his hands away, scowling faintly, “that’s because I was stuck in France for one century too long.  Five centuries to be exact.”  Running a hand through her hair, she sighed and rested her head on her hand, she leaned her elbow on the table and looked at Lennox with suspicious eyes.  “So”—heavy accent was used here, and while she was not the kind of woman that Lennox was attracted to, it did enhance her image to others.   In fact, once upon a time, Lennox hadn’t thought that there was a woman who could visually attract him.  It just hadn’t seemed possible, and it was not as though angels were expected to love and/or find a lifelong partner.  Such a thing was usually considered the least of an angel’s concern, since they were expected to place their duty first—“what did you come here for Lennox?  What has driven you to brave the chance of meeting your destined foe in my bar? It must be important.”

“It is actually.” He ignored the emphasised sarcasm.  If he were not an angel, nor a man with the patience that exceeded any horrid temperament that anyone could possess, then he might have been made upset easily.  Lennox looked over to the bartop, and frowned when he didn’t see Kisa there.  Looking around, he saw a pale turquoise head over by the nightclub side of the bar.  Turning back to Adrienne, he added, “And let us see, if I told you not to tell her that I’ve been here, would you?”

Adrienne considered him.  While he wasn’t easily unnerved, sometimes Adrienne’s gaze disconcerted him.  “It depends.”

“If I asked you now not to tell Cara that I’ve been here, would you?” He asked, his eyes glancing down for a moment before glancing back up.

A sign of weakness.  One that it seemed Adrienne grabbed immediately, judging by the way her lip curled unkindly in a slight sneer.

“Yes.  I would.”

“How cruel, may I ask why?” Lennox said teasingly, yet completely serious.  While Cara might kid herself as knowing everything about the people around her, sometimes, she did not know everything.  Lennox had often pondered the relationship between Cara and Adrienne.  It seemed that while Cara partially trusted Adrienne, and in a way had looked up at Adrienne, Adrienne…did not always seem to be on the same agenda as Cara.  Not that Cara noticed during the times when all three of them—Lennox, Cara and Adrienne—happened to be in the same place at the same time.  But call this an angel’s judgment, or intuition, but sometimes Lennox was wary of the mysterious woman.   Adrienne did not bind herself to others; she did not make herself completely loyal, though she would earn your trust for her own sake.  Her age was unknown and while you might trust her, Adrienne was someone who saw the future, making prophecies every so often that lead to her headaches.   And no doubt she would use the trust she wins from others to push them in the direction that best suited her endgame.  Having observed her over the years since he had known her, he felt as though he knew what kind of move she would make if it suited her, but at the same time, he wouldn’t know for sure, he wasn’t close enough to her.  No one was, not really.

“She was here last night asking for you that’s why,” Adrienne replied, her face serious, not even with a smidge of teasing in her voice.  “And though I could have told her that you hardly come in here because of her, I think she already knew, but was at such a loss, and desperate for some reason, and so had figured she might as well try.  She did not look like a woman who wanted to pay back her loss.  If anything, she looked nervous.  Afraid.  I’ve never seen her so unsettled, not that she would admit of course.  Who would have thought you would arrive half a day later.”

“She was looking for me?  Cara de Vries was looking for me?” Lennox repeated, leaning forward without realising, eyes wide, unhidden from prying eyes.  He was genuinely astonished.  While yes, he had always been aware that Cara had been looking for him to wreck her revenge for his betrayal, but if what Adrienne said was true…why was Cara looking for him.  “Impossible.  You must have been reading her wrong.  Cara wants nothing more than to punish me.  You know that.”

“Oh I do.  And though that will probably happen eventually, but no, this time, she was not looking for you because of that.   I do not know if she will turn up later though, that woman mystifies me sometime,” said Adrienne.

“So the mysterious can also be mystified,” said Lennox in awe as Adrienne reached across the table with her free hand to touch his shirt.

“Cold.  And yet, it does not soak through.” She looked over to the bartop—where Lennox noticed that his charge was once again standing—at Kisa who was sitting at the bar looking out of place yet somewhat talking hesitantly to the bartender.  Lennox watched as the bartender answered Kisa’s questions with a straight face.  He didn’t look like he was enjoying the conversation, but didn’t look like he hated it either.  “Who is she?  The pretty little thing who is with you.  I suppose she is another angel, she has that innocent aura.  But she’s also…different.”

“I could ask you the same about your bartender, you didn’t have help the last time I was here.”

“Oh him, he’s Al, refugee.”

“A refugee?  He looks more like a slave.”

“Hey, he earns money,” said Adrienne, scowling at him.  “I don’t keep slaves anymore.  They become too vicious after a while.  Al is rather useful.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Lennox sighed as he turned to look back at Adrienne.  “Kisa.  I’m her mentor for now.  Half nymph, she manipulates water as though she breathed and lived in it.  She thought the heat was making me uncomfortable.”

“And so she placed a layer of ice on your chest in order to make you more comfortable,” she said laughing lightly.

“Yes,” he replied.  “I can’t get it off without her.”

“Not sure if I should comment or keep my mouth shut.”  She couldn’t hide the amused expression that was making its way across her face like the tides on the ocean.  It was like a huge tidal wave, slowly crossing her face.  When disaster struck, no doubt everyone would know that Adrienne was in a good mood and take advantage of it before her mood changed again.

“I’d like the second option, though I know that’s probably out of my control.”

She chuckled lowly, “oh yes, it is, but I’ll spare you for now.”

And then she laughed out loud.  Her laughter spread across the room, full of warmth and amusement, and Lennox just sat there, like a little boy, guilty of sparing Kisa embarrassment for overthinking, or rather, underthinking Lennox’s situation.

“Are you done?  May we talk about important matters now?” he asked after what felt like ten minutes.

There were traces of laughter tears at the corner of her eyes, and she nodded, “yes, yes, we may, polite as ever I see.  What is it that you want?  I am in a good mood now.”

“I am looking for Caprice.  You know everything, and I was hoping you’d heard something about him.”

Turning serious, she said, “Caprice, Caprice, oh yes, I know him, but though I pride myself in knowing almost everything, I’m afraid, I have little to nothing on Caprice.  Why?  What could you possibly want with him?  I would have thought you of all people would know about him and his whereabouts.”

So Adrienne didn’t know then that Caprice had completely disappeared after Cara had rescued him as part of Lennox’s contract with her.   And if she didn’t know, then Lennox was no better off.

He sighed heavily, and said, “I see.” He leaned back and rested his palms on the edge of the table.  “I had hoped…”

“I know nothing of him,” said Adrienne in a tone of finality, just as her bartender—Al—walked over to them.

“Addy, they need you over there, and you,” Al turned his eyes to Lennox, a smile on his lips that was paired with eyes that seemed to yell angrily at Lennox to get out.  “Your girlfriend doesn’t have a tolerance at all.”

Lennox looked at Kisa, and stood up immediately.  He glared at the bartender.  “I told her not to drink.”  Then looking at Adrienne, he inclined his head slightly, and said, “I didn’t think just anyone would call you Addy these days.”  With one disappointed look at the bartender, Lennox pushed roughly passed him and hurried over to Kisa whom he immediately lead right out of Adrienne’s bar.

Outside, the weather had taken a dramatic turn for the day, having dropped several degrees.  Cold air assailed both Lennox and Kisa.  “I told you not to drink.”

“It sounded nice.”

“Why are you like this?” Lennox asked her.  She should have been shyer, should have been somewhat afraid of the bartender, or hesitant at least.  But from what Lennox could tell, that didn’t seem to be the case.  For a girl who had daringly spent a year or so exploring the world, travelling with people she did not know, to a hermit, hiding at home for approximately the same amount of time, it was difficult to Lennox to see what kind of person she really was, especially when he had in his mind now the image of a girl who was an ‘unstable’ angel.

“I’m not drunk, or even tipsy,” she said, pouting.  “But some things are easier in a haze than when not.”

It was that expression again.  Deep sadness and fear.  He watched her lift a hand, the wind unkindly tugging at her sleeves, pulling it down, and dragging at her skirts.  While in most cases, this would not seem like an interesting or fascinating thing to many, as the sleeves revealed only the skin of the arms, and no amount of lifting would reveal a significant enough amount of Kisa’s legs since she wore a long skirt, unlike most young girls these days.  Yet, in Kisa’s case, when the sleeves were tugged down, Lennox was given a deeper insight into her case.  There was only so much that her father had told him about her, most of everything else, Lennox was discovering on his own.  He couldn’t bring himself to pull his eyes away from the many little white scars that crosshatched her arm.  Amongst the white jagged lines, there were darker jagged lines and patches.  Scars.  There were so many little scars.

… “She was in an accident, the same one that killed Franklin.  I do not know the precise details of what had happened, but when my daughter woke up in the hospital completely scarred, they tell me, she could have been worse off if she hadn’t been pushed out of the way, or if she had been closer to the explosion.”  Lennox had never seen Raziel looked so distraught, having been known as a hard and obsessive worker, watching over and overseeing the Thrones.  “I’m so glad she’s alive…”

There was so much relief in the man’s voice, there was no doubt to Lennox that despite losing one son and feeling guilty about just that, Raziel was awfully relieved that someone had survived.    Lennox could not ever say that he had felt such a thing before.  He never had any siblings, parents or even grandparents.  The creation known as Lennox had been one of an armyful that had been created one lonely war specifically to filling the lack of soldiers for the Angels.  Lennox had no memory of his childhood.  If anything, he hadn’t had one.  And once, Lennox had been a faithful angel, fighting for his own kind all the time.  If it hadn’t been for his encounter with Cara de Vries, he was pretty sure he would never have known what it would have been like to ‘live’.  But then, she hadn’t known either.  Her reasons, and her childhood were different to Lennox’s, and though he had an inkling of her past, he was mostly glad he did not dwell into it more.  It would have been too hard to betray her the way he had.  And to know that she was looking for him now, for help…where did that leave him?

Reaching forward, Lennox found himself placing it on Kisa’s head, patting lightly.  It was an action of comfort, and one that not many angels would show.  “I’m sorry,” he said, truly meaning it.  “I’m sorry.”

Click Here:  Chapter One: The Devil’s Children/Cara de Vries

Click Here:  Chapter Two: A Moon At Stake/Adrienne Cynzia

Click Here: Chapter Three: Can Angels Lie?/Lennox Vanderwerken

Click Here: Chapter Four: Why We Fall/Blayke Feray

Click Here: Chapter Five: Murderous Intentions/Kenichi Ai Gravitas

Click Here: Chapter Six: The Devil’s Children/Cara de Vries

Click Here: Chapter Seven: A Moon At Stake/Adrienne Cynzia

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