Chapter forty five
It was the feeling of being alone but being sure you were not alone.
The feeling of being watched…pried on…followed...
Martin Tonnel reined his horse to a halt and glanced around him, gasping.
There was nothing except trees, darkness and even more darkness. When he tried to push it off his mind and trot along, he got the feeling again. But this time, it was more than a feeling. It was a certainty.
Martin jumped down his white filly and pulled out his sword. As the slash sound was made, a group of crows flapped their black wings and soared away from the nearby bush.
That was when he noticed his stalkers.
Several men approached from the darkness where they'd been lurking to form a circle about him.
They were strong, armed…sadistic. And fearfully, he released a gasp.
Isaac Ramiro stood out of the circle and stalked closer to him, lacking in height but certainly the highest amongst all.
"Greetings, Your Highness," he said.
***
"Well, you might we well add God to the team," Calpurnia was fuming, wagging her arms in the air like a child. When all she received from the King was a yawn, she almost pulled her hair out in anger. "I'm talking to you!"
"I'm just waiting till you're finished," he shrugged. "Because unfortunately, none of your drama would change my decision."
The witch had been offended. But before she could spit her anger out, Paul Herrman asked with a crease in his brows. "Why, though, is it a problem if I'm part of you team?"
Five of the seven immortals shot him a hard, demeaning glare, one that demanded what right he had to speak in their presence. And peacefully, he shrugged and kept shut.
Razia was doing a perfect job at keeping her anger in check, but when all Abraham did was defend the human time after time, she decided to remind him. "Your Majesty, he tried to kill you."
"Only because he thought I was on Ozii's side!" Abraham barked, setting the entire drawing room to an embarrassed silence.
Now that that had been cleared, Calpurnia readily found a second reason to fuss. "Doesn't change the fact that he's from God and we're all from the devil!"
"Not me," Ramon raised a hand.
But, who cared anyway. The blabbers arose again from every supernatural corner and the King was almost frustrated about it. Groaning, he buried his head in his hands.
Sam Singh decided to take control now. "Does it really matter? If good and bad suddenly have a common goal, working together is not entirely impossible. Besides, demons are the enemies here! Who slaughters them better than a demon slayer?"
However, that had been exactly Razia's point. Still, there was sense in his words; deep striking sense. None of the immortals wished to admit it, did they? They were still panting from their previous psycho hyperactivity, all glares cast upon the innocent, young Priest.
Ashilar was the first to give up and release an exasperated sigh. "Fine! But, just keep that crucifix where I can't see it!"
Paul twisted his lips in what looked like an agreement. Soon after, he glanced at the King beside him who still had his face covered. "Who do you suggest our last recruit would be, Your Majesty?"
Well that was an exciting question.
Who knew…maybe God saved the best for the last. Abraham glanced up from his palms, assuming a solemn and thoughtful gaze. But then, he had no answer to think of.
Surely, this was where Jeremy's advise could come in handy. And at the thought, he realized his oldest brother was not in their midst.
Speaking of the devil…
Jeremy Tonnel barged into the drawing room with a look on like he'd been robbed. He harboured an exasperated frown, panting and sweating as he took his seat right beside the King.
His advent wasn't anything too important to attract attention; but Abraham glared at him worriedly, able to see depths no one else could.
"What's wrong, brother," he began, all eyes turning to him. "You look like you just saw a ghost."
Jeremy flashed a fake, anxious grin. He waved a hand of dismissal after a small shrug. "Oh, it's nothing. Maybe it's just my protective side again but Martin has not been home for a whole day."
The King's frown deepened into something dark. After shoving the thought of Ozii away, he drummed his nails on the table, noticing just then they'd lengthened slightly.
And when he spoke again, his perfectly controller rage showed in his teeth. "Let's assume he's on a quest to find himself a new mistress."
"What if…" Jeremy began but was cut short.
The King flung his goblet of wine away and rose abruptly, shrieking just as he did, in a way so sudden everyone flinched. "Ozii can't be behind this! He wouldn't dare! Now, his words grew shaky and low as moisture dared to mar his eyes. "For goodness sake, he already took Raphael and Charles. Surely, not this one too."
"Let's not jump to conclusions, My King," Razia offered steadily. Narrowing dainty eyes, she shrugged. "He's been gone for a day, many reasons could be behind it."
As much as he wanted to agree with her, some other part of him had a red flag up. And for no other reason, he glanced at the doorway where a footman recently stood with a rolled sack in his grip. That was when he felt the highest dose of anxiety reach his heart.
"Your Majesty," the man bowed. "A note has been dropped anonymously by a messenger eagle. I…I assumed you might want to take a look."
Judging from his facial expression, Paul Herrman may not have really understood what was going on. And consequently, he volunteered to read it out.
Moments after the footman had been dismissed and the Priest had the piece of sack on which the note was written, silence reigned, hearts thumped and breaths hitched.
"I see you're gathering one solid team against me," Paul began to recite the words.
That was when Abraham raised an annoyed pair of brows in disdain. It was from Ozii…
"And good luck with that," he continued. "May the best ones win. But one question…"
The Priest took a pause at that point and his face pulled into a sad frown. He looked up at the expectant gazes stamped on him before concluding. "Where is your brother?"
Contrary to what every person should have felt, Abraham began to snicker unbelievably; but, there was a hint of anger in his voice.
"So now he's resulted to cheap threats aye," he growled the whisper. Rising from the head seat, he walked away after leaving an order. "Every soul get stacked, we're going to find Martin."