Angel and the Assassin 3: Sins of the Father

his boy, even as his senses
    recalled the smells of the alley, urine, and blood. Kael lived mostly in the moment,
    except when planning a hit, which required him to look forward, or writing his diary,
    when he had to look back. The prostitute and the man in the suit were in the past. He
    was home with his boy, awash in the softness of Angel’s skin, inhaling the sweet scent
    of Angel’s hair, listening to the boy’s even breathing as he drifted into sleep. “I love
    you, Angel.”
    “Daddy.” Angel’s voice was so quiet and sleepy Kael just barely heard him.
    “There’s only you. In the whole world, the only man I ever want is you. You’re so
    good.”
    At Angel’s words, the gasp of the man in the alley filled Kael’s head. The gasp that
    had followed the scalpel slicing into his jugular. The memory of the euphoria filled his
    body anew and the remnants of adrenaline seeped through his blood. “I’m not good.”
    “You’re like me.” Romodanovsky was a rapist and probably a killer.
    Yes, I am like you.
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    Chapter Thirteen
    “Thanks so much, chaps. We wouldn’t normally ask you, but my niece canceled at
    the last minute,” Freddie said. “Nice that you both came. The girls were hoping Uncle
    Kael would come too.” He looked back and forth between the happy faces of his two
    adopted little daughters. “And we could not leave these fair damsels in better hands
    than yours.”
    “A damsel is a princess,” Amelia said.
    “No! It’s girl,” Zoe shouted.
    Both little girls had clutched at Kael’s legs the moment he walked through the
    front door into Freddie and Adam’s spacious Chelsea home. He ignored them, waiting
    until they turned their attention to Angel. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them. He had
    grown really fond of them over the last year. He just didn’t know what to say to them.
    When the long-haired white cat strolled past, he looked suspiciously at it, glad he had
    worn his jeans and not his usual black trousers. “Going anywhere special?”
    “It’s meet-the-teacher night at their school,” Adam said. “Not terribly exciting, I
    know. But we thought we’d go out for a bite to eat afterward. Would it be okay if we
    got back about tenish?”
    “That’s fine,” Kael said. “Knock yourselves out.”
    Looking more rotund than ever, Freddie attempted to fasten his expensive wool
    coat over his stomach and then gave up, leaving it unbuttoned. “Kael, tell Adam to stop
    feeding me so well.” He chuckled.
    “I think it’s got more to do with the amount you eat than what he serves,” Kael
    said.
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    “Daddy!” Holding Amelia in his arms, Angel gave him the raised-eyebrow look
    that always told him he had made a social gaffe.
    “Don’t worry about it, Angel, my boy.” Freddie never took offense at anything.
    “I’m used to my old mate, and I love him to bits just as he is. He’s never had any social
    graces.”
    “Sorry,” Kael muttered.
    “They’ve had their bath, and now all they need is a bedtime snack and a story,”
    Adam said.
    “No probs,” Angel told them.
    Freddie preceded his husband outside, calling over his shoulder, “Help yourself to
    the whisky, Kael. You might need it.”
    In the messy kitchen—where the children’s dinner dishes were still piled up on
    the counter beside the dishwasher—Angel opened the fridge while Kael looked around
    at the disaster. “They need to employ a housekeeper,” Kael said.
    “Dadda cleans the house,” Zoe said. “Do you know how old I am, Uncle Kael?”
    He’d forgotten. “No.”
    “Six.” She gazed at him. Confused as always by their behavior, Kael remembered
    that Freddie said the girls liked to be acknowledged and praised. Just like Angel.
    “That’s wonderful.” He glanced at Angel, who smiled and nodded. So he’d got
    that right.
    Amelia grabbed the knee of his jeans, pulling on it. “I’m five!”
    “No, you’re not five till May!” her sister said.
    Flying at her sister with her hand raised to slap her, Amelia screamed, “I am five.”
    Watching in horror, Kael stepped out of their way. Angel lunged forward and
    grabbed Amelia’s small hand. “No,” he said very firmly. “We never hit our sister.” He
    looked up at Kael. “Isn’t that right, Uncle Kael?”
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    Kael had seen adults do that with kids before, refer to each other as Mummy and
    Daddy or Granny or