Angel and the Assassin

opened the fridge.
    “There‟s no food.”
    Kael watched him from the door, and when he did not respond, Angel raised
    his voice. “John!” He looked around and saw Kael standing in the doorway. “There‟s
    no food.”
    “Don‟t call me John.” Aside from the fact that it wasn‟t his name, he would
    never allow a sub that kind of familiarity. “I‟m Sir to you at all times.”
    Instantly chastened, Angel dropped his chin onto his chest. “Sorry, Sir.”
    “That‟s better.” Kael crossed the spotless kitchen and pointed into the open
    fridge. “Food.”
    “Caviar? That‟s not food, Sir.”
    Kael took the jar and put it on the counter. He opened a cupboard. It was
    empty but for a box of Carr‟s Water Biscuits, which he put beside the jar. From the
    glass fronted cabinet he took a plain white plate and got a shiny silver spoon from
    the cutlery drawer. He spooned caviar onto several crackers and lined them up on
    the plate. “Eat.” He put one into his mouth whole. Angel took one and bit into it,
    screwing up his face, but he managed to swallow it.
    “Sven liked caviar. My mom pretended to like it, but she‟d rather have pizza
    and so would I. Can we order some?”
    “Pizza? No. It‟s not good for you to eat heavy food, then lie down. We can eat
    later. We need to sleep.”
    Angel finished his cracker. “Got anything to drink, Daddy? Sorry, Sir.”
    From under the counter, Kael pulled a plastic-wrapped twelve-pack of water.
    Looking disgruntled, Angel took a bottle but remembered to say, “Thank you, Sir.”
    He walked out of the kitchen into the open-plan living room and dining room area.
    Kael followed him. He was very territorial about his home and was not used to
    visitors.
    Angel walked past the black leather couch, running his fingers along the back.
    “It looks like no one lives here. There‟s nothing out of place; everything‟s perfect.”

    Angel and the Assassin
    33

    “I like it this way, so keep it this way,” Kael said. “Come on.” He crossed the
    living room and walked down the passage to the bedroom. Angel followed him,
    tipping the water bottle to drink.
    In the spacious bedroom, Kael stripped off his clothes and divided them into
    two tall wash hampers.
    Angel wandered around looking at things, touching everything, driving Kael
    crazy. He had not shared a living space since he was at Cambridge, and he wasn‟t
    sure he could do it now.
    “Why is everything white, Sir? Your kitchen is white and stainless steel, and
    the bedroom is all white. White bedding, white blinds. This whole place is black-
    and-white. White walls, black leather furniture in the living room. Has it never
    occurred to you to add a little color, Sir?”
    “Has it never occurred to you to shut up, boy?”
    Standing completely still, Angel looked nervously at him. “Sorry, Sir. I guess
    you‟re not home much.”
    “Get your clothes off, and don‟t leave anything on the floor.” He pointed at the
    hampers. “That one is for dry cleaning, and that one is for the washing machine.”
    Angel stripped quickly. Kael pointed at the en-suite bathroom, and Angel
    preceded him in. They showered together in the sterile white and stainless-steel
    bathroom and dried off with soft white towels from the glass shelves. Kael opened
    the drawer under the sink. It was full of new tubes of toothpaste, containers of
    dental floss, and new toothbrushes in their packages. He handed one to Angel.
    “Thank you, Sir; actually, could I have pink?”
    Kael tossed the toothbrush back into the drawer and pulled out one with a red
    handle. “I do not have pink.” They brushed their teeth side by side in silence.
    Kael had never had much patience with people, but tired and anxious about
    the boy and his own insanity at letting him live and then bringing him home, he
    was like an angry dog, snapping at everything. “Bed,” he ordered. Angel stood for
    another second watching as Kael wiped down the sink with a paper towel and
    tossed it into the stainless-steel bin.
    At the bedroom door, Angel took a couple of trial paces before picking up speed
    and leaping into the middle of the bed. Hands on hips, Kael watched him. He had
    opened his mouth to tell him to behave when the boy turned round, grinning.
    “Which is your side, Sir?” Kael just managed to suppress a smile.
    The whole bed was his; he‟d never had a side before. He decided on the left and
    pointed.
    Angel pulled back the duvet. Kneeling up like a child, he