Free Shadow of Death: Book Two of the Chosen Chronicles by Karen Dales

headache. Of course Bridget understood, Notus placated and Fernando, well, Fernando complained. Since then quiet Christmas get-togethers were fine, but this time he had forgotten.
    Taking a deep breath of cold air, the Angel closed his eyes before allowing his breath to slowly steam from him. It had taken several decades before he was able to master this newfound empathy with the Chosen. Gradually the sensations flowing from the flat decreased until there was nothing. He hated to do this with Notus because it also meant that they could not communicate as Chosen and Chooser aught, but he knew how Fernando disliked the emotional connection between him and others. Bridget would not go into details, but left it to say that the Noble preferred, for his own valid reasons, to keep disconnected, and though she hated it, she let her Chosen have as much privacy as their connection allowed.
    Calm, grounded and centred, the Angel opened his eyes and climbed the half dozen stone steps. Fishing the keys from his pocket by way of the chain attached to his belt loop, the Angel opened the outer door of the walk-up. Yellow and brown tiled floor stained with grey melt water proved that other tenants had made their way to their flats. Water dripped down the stairs in the middle of the lobby.
    With a sigh he turned and placed his key into the lock. The action was automatic and unnecessary; Notus had left the door open for him. On well oiled hinges the fibreboard white door opened and he stepped from a cold winter wonderland to the warmth of Christmas lights and music. He could not have stifled the small smile even if he tried. Closing the door and throwing the latch, he met Bridget ’ s sparkling blue eyes as she peered over the couch.
    “ Well, it ’ s about time you showed up, ” complained the Master of Britain as he came to his feet, a smile belying his own irritation.
    The Angel placed the wooden box down to lean against the wall as he began to remove his long black coat.
    Rising from the green chair, Notus ’ expression did not match with his guests. “ Don ’ t move! ”
    Surprised at his Choosers reaction, the Angel complied and watched as Notus moved preternaturally fast into the bathroom and brought out a large white towel. It took but a moment for the monk to stand by his side offering the large swatch of terrycloth to him.
    “ You ’ re soaked, ” stated Notus. “ I don ’ t want you dripping all over the floor. ”
    Surprised at what his Chooser seemed to be insinuating, his eyes widened at the sound of Bridget failing to hide her laughter.
    “ Oh good grief, ” sighed the Monk. “ Just dry off and come join us. We ’ ve been waiting hours for you. What took you so long, boy? ”
    The Angel hid his smile as he took off his coat and hung it up on the hook beside the door. Notus ’ irritation at his lateness coupled with him calling him “ boy ” made it even more heart warming. Turning around, he kicked off his shoes and grimaced; his socks were soaked. They too came off, leaving his feet cold against the laminate floor and he accepted the towel.
    Realizing how soaked his Chosen was, Notus ’ eyes widened. “ What did you do? Fall into a pond? ”
    Fernando snickered as he sat on the back of the couch watching the spectacle. A sound of flesh hitting flesh resounded in the room coupled with his bark of surprise made it all too clear that it was Bridget who smacked him. “ What did you do that for? ”
    “ Because you ’ re enjoying his too much. ” Bridget slid off the couch and came around to kiss Fernando ’ s cheek.
    Removing the black braces from his wrists, the Angel placed them down on the tea table that sat beneath the draped window and began to dry his long white locks. The edges of his shirt and his trousers would have to dry in their own time.
          The silence in the room was broken only with the static analog of an ancient Christmas carol. Pulling the towel down around his neck, the Angel ran