Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 93412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Gabriel so young, so tiny. His hands bound in front of him. His back bleeding from several open wounds. Beatrice, dressed in a dark robe, swings the whip at him again. Rogers pinches Gabriel’s nostrils to stop him breathing. The terrified boy glances over his shoulder for solace that won’t come, but somehow, through the time and space between them, his tearful gaze meets Abaddon’s.
Shuddering, Abaddon dropped the edge of the blanket and rose, heading to the window. Nausea clutched at his throat and wouldn’t let go until he redirected his thoughts to the loud voices outside. Young children shrieked during a game of dodgeball, but when one of them captured the ball and tossed it toward the other team, Abaddon knew he was ready to face Gabriel again.
He felt guilty over wanting to take his eyes away from the trauma this boy had been through, but what was the point of reliving it when they couldn’t change the past, and important issues needed to be dealt with now?
“Let’s go,” he said and grabbed the dirty monster whose torture of Gabriel had only now come to an end. The blanket-wrapped form was heavier than expected, but once Abaddon gave it his all, he managed to hang the corpse over his shoulder.
Gabriel’s eyes widened, and he stood between Abaddon and the door. He placed his hands on Abaddon’s chest with a frantic expression. “We can’t go out there. You shouldn’t be seen. And he definitely can’t be.”
Abaddon once again touched those soft lips, shutting down the litany of worries. “Do you trust me?”
Gabriel’s dark eyebrows furrowed, but after one more glance at Roger’s form, he nodded.
Light streamed through the window, but Abaddon stepped past the shape it cast on the carpet and headed for the massive fireplace. It hadn’t been used for its intended purpose for quite some time, so the space for the logs had been obscured by a dark metal plate which reached beyond the mantelpiece.
Abaddon scooted down, keeping the corpse in place with one arm while pushing his free hand up the chimney. He found the button, guided by a set of grooves meant for that purpose, and the plate moved forward with a click.
“What the fuck?” Gabriel whispered as a passage opened, revealing the narrow stairs Abaddon had used to enter the office without being spotted.
The cold breath of the hidden corridor tickled the back of his mind with an incoming vision, but it halted, as if kept away from his thoughts by an impenetrable barrier. Still, there was a lingering sense of déjà vu, as if he’d done this exact thing long ago. Had the Almighty sent him here before? Back then, had Abaddon failed?
Like most of the other secret tunnels providing anonymous access to some parts of the building, it was cold and smelled of mildew, even though there were no obvious signs of damp. Torn spiderwebs hung from the sides like mutilated flags of an enemy beaten by Abaddon’s sheer size, but since the lamps installed along the passage wouldn’t switch on when he first entered on the way here, he cocked his hip and whistled at Gabe.
“Take the flashlight from my pocket.”
Long-limbed, dressed in black, and with dark eyes shining from the shadows as if he were the cutest spider, Gabriel stumbled forward. He pulled out the flashlight Abaddon had stolen from the janitor’s office, and even doing so, he found an opportunity to put his hand on the small of Abaddon’s back. The warmth of his fingers trailed up Abaddon’s spine, but this wasn’t the moment to ask about the boy’s obvious attraction to him. Nobody wanted a corpse as their third wheel.
“How do I close the passage?” Gabriel asked, taking Abaddon out of a brief fantasy that involved them both against the nearest wall—mouths locked and hands wandering all over.
“There’s a plaque to your left, with a circle on it. Press that,” Abaddon said, shaking off the heat of not-so-innocent daydreams.
Gabriel’s huge eyes looked at him from above the triangular shadows the lowered flashlight cast on his cheekbones. He then focused on the wall and did as told.
A soft shuffle told Abaddon it worked, but they only moved once the lock clicked into place.
“Nobody will see us here, but keep your voice low. There are people in some of the rooms we’ll pass.”
“What is this place?” Gabriel whispered, glancing back as he led the way with the flashlight in hand. To think that he’d been chosen at random all those years ago, just so some madmen could fulfill their blasphemous ritual made Abaddon’s blood boil. He was so ethereal, in some ways more like an angel than Abaddon was, so how could the heavens let it happen?
Thoughts like this might have been the reason behind Abaddon’s fall from grace an eternity ago, so he ignored them, intent on not questioning the Lord’s plan this time.