Angel and the Assassin: Be Brave

the
    group. The woman emerged from behind one of the men, dwarfed by his size just as
    Angel, with his slender five-feet-eight frame, was dwarfed by Kael. For a moment,
    Kael stopped to suck in a breath. She reminded him of Misha, but this girl had
    blonde hair and Misha‟s had been dark. The young woman smiled when their eyes
    met. Kael did not return her smile. He would not get friendly with anyone in the
    group.
    Quickly he assessed them, spotting who the friends were and who didn‟t like
    each other. One man, broad and muscular but not much taller than Angel, had a
    ruddy complexion, a sign of alcohol abuse or perhaps a dicky heart. Another man,
    no more than nineteen or twenty years old, walked with an overconfident swagger:
    a sure sign that he overestimated his own abilities. The woman looked happy just
    being there and eager to get on with the work.
    It was a cold morning in February, and the group, attired in dark clothing,
    wore jackets and hats. Kael wore a black lightweight but very warm pullover, dark
    jeans, and black Doc Martens. Angel handed him his leather jacket, which he pulled
    on and zipped up. Angel wore the same, and when Kael pulled a black woolen hat
    over his shaved head, Angel copied. “Keep your jacket fastened up, boy. Avoid
    getting cold because it‟ll be hard to warm up again with staying outdoors all
    weekend.”
    “Yes, Sir.” Angel obeyed at once, not only because he recognized Kael as his
    dom, but because he trusted him completely. “Sir, if this is for your work, why was I
    allowed to come?”
    “Conran suggested I bring you. I‟d refused the assignment because it was a
    weekend.”
    “Because you didn‟t want to leave me, Sir?”
    He looked down at Angel, unsmiling in case anyone saw. “That‟s right.” He
    didn‟t give a shit who knew he was gay. But they didn‟t need to know Angel was his
    and that he loved him; that would make Kael vulnerable.
    Kael looked at his students. “Get over here!” The group stood to attention
    momentarily and then hurried toward him to stand quietly. His raised voice had
    succeeded in making them nervous, which was exactly what he wanted. “My name
    is Sir, and that is what you will call me every time you look at me. How many of you
    have been in the armed forces?” Two men and the woman raised their hands. “Good.
    You‟ll find it easy to remember. The others will get a smack if they forget. Are we
    clear?”
    “Yes, sir,” they chorused.

    Angel and the Assassin: Be Brave

    3

    “Excellent. Pick up the tents and packs and start walking north.”
    “Yes, sir!”
    Angel brought Kael his pack, but the other men were already carrying the
    tents.
    With Kael leading the way, the group walked for about twenty-five minutes
    until Kael told them to stop in the woods. “There are five tents, two people to each
    tent. Start pitching them in a circle. We make a fire in the middle.” He helped Angel
    pitch one of the tents, mainly to show him how.
    When the tents were up and a fire pit was constructed and ready to light later,
    Kael had everyone sit on the ground. He watched where they sat and who they felt
    comfortable with. Two of the men had marched side by side to the woods, and they
    sat together now, so he decided to separate them. They were obviously straight, but
    they wanted to be together. “You”—Kael pointed to one of the men—“will share a
    tent with him.” He pointed at another man. “Move now.” Kael‟s anger flared with
    the man‟s hesitation. “Oh. I‟m sorry. Did you want to be with your friend?” His tone
    dripped with sarcasm. The man moved quickly, his cheeks flushing. Kael proceeded
    to split up the pairs, assigning the woman to the burly, red-faced man.
    “Sir,” the woman said. She was tiny and adorable. “You haven‟t asked our
    names.”
    He already knew their names; he had seen their files and a small photo of each
    and memorized everything. He pointed at each of them in turn, giving their names,
    ages, and the place they were born. “I know everything I need to know about you,
    Matilda Thornton.”
    She smiled. “I go by Mattie, sir.”
    “Sir?” It was the bloke with the swagger: Harry Denbigh. “Is he part of the
    group?” Angel stuck out as much as Mattie did, and he had been glued to Kael‟s side
    since getting out of the car.
    “Yes, he is. Tell them your first name only, boy.”
    Angel smiled at him and then around at the group. “I‟m Angel.”
    Denbigh laughed, and