Chapter Three. Inadequate, that's how I felt, as Nick dragged me out of the house and into the garden at a rate of knots. We made a couple of slow and silent circuits, admiring the flower beds, before I saw the tension begin to seep out of his shoulders. I wanted to touch him. To tell him that it was all going to be ok; but as I didn't know what the hell was going on, or who he really was, I came to the conclusion it probably wasn't such a good idea. I also spotted Caitlin and Apollodoros watching us from the living room window and decided to leave him to flower-gaze on his own. I walked over to the carp pond and sat down on the marble bench. It didn't take Nick long to join me, though he sat right at the other end of the long bench. The orange and yellow giant carp slowly swam laps. I got up and walked around the pond a couple of times, aware of Nick surreptitiously watching me through half-closed eyes. I was still badly shocked, and not only because of Valerian's behaviour. In the last half an hour I had been as close to nirvana as I'd ever been, and then I'd found out the guy I was attracted to was some sort of agent, in addition to which, I was under surveillance. I didn't know which upset me more. "For goodness sake, sit down," Nick started tetchily, and then grinned as he saw my expression. "You know, you look just like your father when he's cross." "I would -- he's my dad," I said, sighing, and then realised what he'd said. My mind was screaming at me to run, but instead, I walked around the pond one more time. Then I sat down beside him, crossed my ankles, and looked at the fish with what I sincerely hoped was a nonchalant expression. "So …, " I began, and he interrupted. "Buttons." "Huh?" "You sew buttons … oh, never mind. Look, I'm sorry, Gabe, I'm really sorry." "Don't change the subject." It was his turn to look flustered, and honestly, he looked softer, almost cute that way. "I wasn't aware we had a subject." "Or prevaricate." "Christ!" "Anyway, what are you sorry for?" I asked, knowing full well what he was going to say. "The bathroom … and …" "And?" "For leading you on. I'm your tutor, and it was just …." He looked at me pleadingly, and something deep inside me went pitter pat. I needed to get away and think, and I needed to know who he really was, and I needed to touch him. So I did. Or rather I didn't -- it was that bit of me over which I have no control that took charge. His left hand was on the bench next to me, so I picked it up. "Gabe…," he pleaded. "Shh, I'm busy." I was holding his left hand in my right, and it suddenly struck me that I didn't know if he were right or left handed. I wasn't about to ask, as I thought it would probably break the mood, but the idea that he used the hand I was holding to wank with sent a frisson skittering up my spine. The back of his hand was smooth, except for a small jagged scar running up the soft flesh between his thumb and forefinger. His fingers were long, sensual and his fingernails were neat and unbitten. Turning his hand over I ran my thumb lightly over his palm, he shivered, and I glanced at him. He was looking puzzled. I turned away, determined not to look at him again until I'd asked the questions. "Nick?" "Hmm?" His right hand covered mine and gently squeezed. "Who are you? And how do you know what my dad looks like when he's angry?" I asked mildly. It wasn't abrupt. He just slid his hand out of mine and stood up. I continued looking at my now empty hands, hoping he'd sit back down and explain. He couldn't have been using me like Valerian obviously had, he simply couldn't have been. I'd felt so much from him during the short time I'd known him, and I was convinced there'd be a rational explanation. Eventually, I decided the waiting game wasn't going to work. Sighing, I looked up. He was sitting on the spring board by the pool, chewing his fingernails. I walked back into the house and collected my skateboard, pads, phone and an old jean jacket from the back of the hall cupboard. I could hear my sister and Apollodoros talking quietly in the kitchen as I checked the jacket for bugs the same way I'd seen Nick check earlier; then, making sure I had my wallet, I went back out into the garden. Nick had taken off his shoes and was now sitting at the end of the spring board, dangling his feet in the water. He either didn't hear me approach or was deep in thought, so I politely cleared my throat. He half turned and looked at me before turning away again. "Ok then, be like that. For a tutor you're pretty dumb!" I paused but he didn't reply and just shrugged his shoulders. "I'm going out then," I said, and started off towards the wood and the back gate. "Wait!" I probably read too much into it, but it seemed to me that that one 'wait' had elements of apology mixed with concern, and something else besides which totally diffused my anger. So I did, though I didn't turn around. I heard him get to his feet, and then I heard an odd sound I couldn't place, followed by a loud splash. Turning around, I dropped the skateboard, pads and phone as I ran to the side of the pool, planning to give the fool a hand out and my best and most withering 'idiot falls into swimming pool' repartée. He was lying face down in the water, not moving. Obviously, he was embarrassed as hell. I started laughing. "Karmic retribution, Nick! Instant cause and effect." I laughed, slapping my thigh with glee. "See? You're beastly to me, and the universe, which just so happens to be in my employ this afternoon, gets you back." I paused, amazed at how long he was holding his breath. Then I noticed the dart sticking out of his shoulder. "NICK! Oh, Jesus Christ!" I kicked off my trainers and dived in, immediately wishing I'd taken the extra time to lose my sweatshirt, too. I reached him in one stroke and turned him over. He wasn't breathing, which, considering he had been face down, was probably a good thing, though his face and especially his lips seemed very blue. I managed to tow him to the edge of the pool at the shallow end, got out and hauled him onto the concrete walkway. "HELP!" I shrieked, my voice cracking falsetto, "CAITLIN, APOLLODOROS, HELP!" I was panicking. I didn't know what to do, so I pulled the dart out, pricking my thumb in the process. Everything slowed up … the world around me seemed to loose focus …. Blackness. *** The light on the bedside table was on when I woke up, the rest of the room in darkness except for thin sliver of light coming through the crack in the partly opened door. I was really tired and the vaguely familiar surroundings made it all seem rather surreal. Furthermore, I wasn't sure how I'd got there. To be truthful, I wasn't even sure what was going on and … then I realised I didn't know who I was. I knew I was safe, and I knew that …. I heard muted voices coming from outside the door. I only recognised one of them, but I couldn't put a name or a face to the voice. "… and you're sure of that?" I'd never heard this girl before, but she sounded quite nice, in a cut crystal kind of way. "Absolutely. He was the target. If I hadn't got up when I did, I shudder to think of the consequences." I smiled peaceably, a tingle running around my body. This voice I knew; it was someone I liked. "You realise the jacket saved your life?" "Oh, yes …. " "Any idea why they want him dead?" "I was going to ask you the same thing, Celia. Hasn't Sterling told you anything?" The door closed quietly and the conversation became too muffled to follow. I was thinking about getting up to go and see who Celia and my friend were, but sleep took me away. I dreamt of evil clowns. There were more of them, but this time Nick was on my side of the door. The sun was shining when I woke up next, and my memory had seemingly recovered. I lay still with my eyes shut as I realised someone was holding my hand. I squeezed back lightly. "Morning Ni ... ." I opened my eyes and grinned, then faltered. It wasn't Nick but a young woman around the same age as Caitlin. She was taking my pulse. "Good morning, Gabriel." She checked her watch, gently put my hand back on the bed, and then wrote a note on a clipboard. "It seems like you're almost back to normal, for which we're all very grateful." She paused and then looked at me straight in the eye, her lips twitching, "some of us rather more so than others." "Who? … how's? … water please." I thought I'd got my memory back but I felt as weak as a kitten, and I was horribly confused. The woman looked just like Nick, with the same black hair, though it was tied back in a pony tail, and the same chocolate eyes. She handed me a glass of water, which I drained in one go, and then a refill, too. "If you mean who am I, I'm Celia, and I work with Nick. And if the 'how's' related to Nick, he's fine and asleep at the bottom of your bed. You need to keep drinking fluids." I struggled to sit up and managed it with Celia's help. Cautiously, I looked over the foot of my bed, and there he was, sound asleep on a couple of cushions placed on the floor. I felt myself grinning as I lay back down again. "How long has he been there?" I asked timidly, watching Celia's face as a number of expressions crossed it in swift succession. She sat down on the edge of the bed and studied me. "He's been in here since he woke up yesterday." "Yesterday? How long have I been out then?" "Um … since yesterday, too." She looked at me quizzically. "You do remember what happened?" "No, at least not all of it … it's kind of fuzzy." "Yes, M99 is apt to leave you like that. You're both lucky to be alive." "M99. Fuck." She looked at me sharply as the memories came flooding back. I felt like I'd just had a revelation, been slapped in the face. Valerian was behind this. I knew it without a shadow of a doubt. Valerian had tried to kill Nick, but what I couldn't work out was why … unless Nick being hit was just a twist of fate. I thought back to the odd sound I'd heard -- it was a kind of 'phhuuut', rather like compressed air. I connected the mental dots. It was obviously a dart gun being fired, and it had come from behind me; and behind me had been the pool and then the pool house. And in between the two was the spring board with Nick on it … so I had been the target, not Nick. Nick had inadvertently saved my life. "You know what M99 is then." He said it without rancour, and I turned to see Nick looking at me over the foot of the bed. I'd been so involved in trying to sort through the problem, I hadn't heard him wake up; neither had Celia, judging by her expression. I must have missed some familiar signal because the next thing that happened was Celia getting to her feet. "Now you're both awake I'm going to go and have a cup of tea. I'm parched." She said lightly, "I'll bring you both a cup up in a while, ok?" Without waiting for an answer, she patted Nick on the head, which I could see made him uncomfortable, and then left, closing the door behind her. The moment the door closed, Nick got up, pulled my desk chair over to the bed, and in one movement, sat down and picked up my hand. "I thought you were dead," he said, and leant forward and bussed me lightly on the lips. I flushed; I know I did, 'cause I could feel the blood rush to my face. The problem was, it rushed elsewhere too. Nick leant back and looked at me. I purposely hadn't returned his affection. "I'm sorry, Nick … I don't know what to …." "I …." He got up and let go of my hand, the smile sliding off his face. "Please don't," I said, "just wait a minute, please?" "Ok, Gabe." His smile flickered back, though at a much lower volume. "I'm just going to go and have a shower; I'll be back in a little while." He stood up, stretched, and opened the door, before turning back to me. "You know you can tell me anything, don't you?" "I'd like to think so," I replied, beginning to choke up. I wanted to, I really wanted to. He left, and I was alone again. I had a decision to make, and little to base it on other than my feelings. My heart was urging me to tell him everything, but my head was telling me to avoid saying anything without more information. I was only sixteen and couldn't be tried as an adult, but I was in all sorts of trouble, and trouble I couldn't sort out without help. The question was, would Nick help? I shook my head and laughed aloud. The real question was -- who was Nick? The window was open and the sound of distant traffic underlay the cheery off key whistling of the pool man. After another few minutes, I finally came to a decision, got dressed, and, finding my wallet and cell on the bedside table, put them in my spare pack that I grabbed from the closet along with my old skateboard. I was still feeling a little woozy, the result of the M99 and the antidote injection, so I was grateful that I managed to leave the house without getting caught. I made it to the high street and was just about to call Brian when it struck me that using my cell probably wasn't that good an idea. I slid it back into my pack and looked around for a pay phone, then realised with dismay there weren't that many left, and none nearby where I was. I thought a coffee would probably help, and walked into the local branch of McD's. The counter staff paid me scant attention, preferring to discuss their clubbing exploits from the night before. I loaded the large coffee with extra sugar and cream and took an empty table at the back, plonking my board and pack down unceremoniously, and looking around the restaurant as I alternately blew and sipped. There were the usual suspects: the young mothers pacifying their children with e numbers, the business junkies with their laptops, using the free WiFi service, and the Goths in long black coats and matching makeup, all thinking they were breaking the mould. I began to feel jaded, but the caffeine buzz was starting to kick in so I went and got another one, along with an apple pie for good luck. I was half way through it when a swarthy, middle eastern-looking man in a suit came through the door, apparently talking to himself. He wasn't going to the counter, he wasn't checking the menu, he was looking at the people sitting at the tables, and I was lucky, as he started with those in the kid's section. His mistake. I ducked down under the table, grabbed my pack and board, and hid. I froze as a pair of smelly old black army boots under black chinos appeared in front of my nose. Then I found myself squeezed against the wall by a virtually identical pair of trousers over badly dyed canvas tennis shoes. "We'll hide you, dude." I couldn't see who'd spoken but it sounded like his voice had just broken. "He's walking this way, man." This voice was younger still, and full of suppressed excitement. "Excuse me, but have you seen this boy?" The voice was deep and the English perfect, marred only by a slight foreign accent. "Um … let's see the picture, dude." I could hear the rustle of a photograph changing hands, and glanced at the man's shoes. He was wearing really expensive hand made brogues under pinstriped trousers. The socks nearly made me laugh, as the right one had Mickey Mouse on it and the left one, Minnie Mouse. "Nope, I haven't seen him around here … how about you, Lolly?" The creak of the bench indicated the photo changing hands to 'army boots'. "Me neither. Is there a reward?" My heart was firmly in my mouth at this twist of fate. I couldn't believe I'd be handed over for a reward in the middle of McD's, and was about to get up and make a run for it when a hand touched my shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. "There might be." The right hand brogue started tapping in an annoyed fashion. "Here is my card. If you see the boy, call me, and I'll speak to my boss about a reward." "Thank you Mr Ashmiel, dude, if we see him we'll call you right away." The brogues walked off, only to stop at another table across from ours. I was almost getting used to the foot odour when the hand on my shoulder vanished and a young face took its place. "He's gone." He was probably my age or a little younger, with dark blue hair, freckles, grey-blue twinkling eyes complete with black eye liner, and a lopsided grin. I grinned back. "Thanks, dude!" I took his offered hand, and he pulled me up and back onto the bench. The other boy sitting opposite was younger still, wearing a beanie pulled almost down to his eyebrows, and also had freckles, blue eyes and the requisite eye liner. Though I wouldn't have put them down as brothers, they obviously were. He was almost jumping up and down with excitement. "Wow, that was intense wasn't it, Lolly? I mean, he could have been caught, and then what'd we have done, eh? I mean to say, that'd have pissed Ray off no end." "Shut up, Doofus," Lolly said mildly and then turned back to me. "His name is David, David Oliver Ogilvie Frederick Usher Smythe, so he really is a doofus, though mostly we call him Davey, and I'm Lolly, which is short for Lawrence." He offered his hand and we shook. I couldn't help but laugh at their good nature. "So what's your plot now, Gabriel?" Doofus asked excitedly, and I saw Lolly roll his eyes. "How do you know my name?" I asked "By name, by nature. You stupid idiot, Davey, way to give the game away, fool." "Yeah, that's all very well, but how do you know my name?" I was getting angry now, and got angrier when I saw the business card lying on the table. It said: 'Mr M. Ashmiel. V Enterprises'. I picked it up and turned it over. The back was blank. I forced myself to calm down, surreptitiously palming it and slipping it into my pocket. "Thanks for your help, guys, I really, well I, honestly I think I'd have been fucked without it." "Yes, you would." Lolly had lost the grin and was looking serious, "and if you don't mind, we're gonna come and make sure you get to where you're going." "And where would I be going that I'd need help to get there?" I enquired, looking around to see if I hadn't been suddenly transported to the cantina in Star Wars. Nope, it was still good old McD's on the high street. "Ray Gilbert gave you a card at the park." My mouth dropped open and I closed it with a snap. "Who the hell are you guys?" "I told you, I'm Lolly and he's Davey, and we're your friends, in that any friend of Ray's is a friend of ours …." He paused, looking swiftly around, then continued, "he asked us to keep an eye out for you if we ever saw you around, and hey, presto, you walk into McD's and here we are. Ok?" "Are you part of that club thing … 'The Boys' that he was talking about?" "Well kinda. I'd guess you could call us affiliates." There was a squeal of brakes as a large black Jaguar pulled smartly to a stop outside. The driver and front seat passenger got out as the back door was flung open and the same swarthy middle eastern man leapt nimbly to the pavement. They all made for the restaurant door. "Shit!" Lolly said, "it's the suit brigade. Looks like someone else wanted that reward … we'd better leg it." "And how are we going to get out of here?" I asked, my voice cracking with strain. I just wanted the whole thing to stop, to go away, but I could see from the expressions on the men's faces it wasn't going to be that easy. "Davey, lead on old boy," Lolly said, and grabbing my board and pack, I followed Lolly and his brother behind the counter into the kitchen. "Davey! You're not on shift to-day," a pimply and rather overweight man with five gold stars on his shirt said, and then stepped smartly backwards as we ran by. "Sorry, Cecil, no time to chat, seeya tomorrow, dude," Davey said in passing. I just grinned at Cecil's bemused expression before I was yanked by Lolly past the fridges and down a flight of stairs to the basement. We stopped in front of an off-white door that said 'Crewroom' on it. There was a keypad, and Davey had a distinctly blank look on his face. From upstairs came the sounds of raised voices, and they were getting closer. "Come on bro, don't let us down now, dude." Lolly was now the one hopping up and down. The sound of voices had now turned into the sounds of a fight. "Got it!" The blank look left Davey's face, and he tapped in a four digit number. The door clicked open and we bundled through and closed it, just as we heard the sound of footsteps clattering down the stairs. "Ok," I said, leaning against the door, "so now we're locked in a basement room …." There was a thump and I felt the door shudder. "Sweetness. So what's the next move, brainiacs?" "Oooh, sarcasm in the face of terror, love it!" Lolly said over his shoulder, as he slid a four-person locker along the wall to reveal another door with a push bar. "Fire exit, my man, fire exit!" He pushed on the bar, but it refused to budge. "Bugger. Davey?" Davey kicked the bar and the door slammed opened with a crash. I could suddenly hear the traffic and smell fumes from the high street. Lolly grinned at me, just as the door behind me thumped and rattled on its hinges. "After you, Gabriel." I returned the grin. "No, no," I replied, "after you, I insist." Lolly tutted, grabbed me by the arm and pushed me through the door, thrusting my pack and board at me. "If we get separated, meet by the skate bowl. Now go, follow Davey, I'll be right behind." Davey was standing at the top of the iron staircase at street level, and beckoned me up. We ran. The McD's fire exit led on to a series of back alleys that ran the length of the high street. Whilst people casually window-shopped and dreamt of the latest fashions, I ran for my freedom. I wasn't about to let myself be caught, and thankfully, Davey and Lolly weren't about to let me be caught either. But the pursuers wouldn't stop; they just would not give up. The third time we managed to lose them, all of us were sweating, and I had a filthy stitch in my side that was making it hard to move. "Fuck me, why don't they give up?" Davey said, sitting down on top of a pile of garbage bags outside the delivery entrance to a department store. "Dunno bro, dunno," Lolly replied, panting, then looked at me and grinned his lopsided grin. "It's kinda fun though, in a sick and highly perverted way." I grinned back. I couldn't help it; their enthusiasm for life was infectious, and they were treating this as a bit of fun. Of course, they weren't the one being pursued. My stitch was going and we'd got our breath back, when the black Jaguar appeared at one end of the alley we were in. "They've found us again," I muttered. "No shit Sherlock," Lolly replied, still grinning until he looked up the alley the other way. There were two more suits walking slowly in our direction. And then the reason struck me. "Damn me, my cell," I said, reaching into my pack and taking it out. "Huh?" Davey enquired, watching me as I took the battery out, and then the chip. "Now's honestly not the time to be mending your phone, dude, now's the time for … I dunno, Lolly?" Lolly's eyes lit up as he realised what I was doing. "Into the department store, and Gabriel, put the phone back together, I've got an idea." Carrying empty cardboard boxes grabbed from the rubbish pile, we walked casually past the security guard. He briefly gave us the once over and then went back to his paper. I'd got the phone back together, and Lolly took it from me, put it into one of the cardboard boxes which was full of spongy packing material, slung it into the supply lift, and pressed the button for the top floor. "Now we hide," he said, grabbing Davey and me by the arm and pulling us down behind a stack of washing machines, "and be quiet." We heard multiple footsteps approach, and I could see through a crack that the suits had stopped in front of the lift. The swarthy one was looking at a small electronic gadget. "They're in the lift … above us. Let's take the stairs, and I must call Valerian." I nearly screamed, but managed by some small miracle to hold it in as they walked off and through the door marked 'stairs to all floors'. "Gabriel, you're shaking." I felt a hand on my arm and looked to see Lolly's concerned expression. Davey had walked back and had his ear to the stairway door. "Yeah, I guess I am …." I was near to tears if the truth be told, and his obvious concern nearly set me off. They were friends. If I could trust anyone, I could trust them "… I was nearly killed yesterday, and Valerian …." "Oh yeah?" he said dismissively, as if I'd made a play for pity in a game, all the while watching his brother and paying me no real attention. I felt blind anger start to creep up on me, and I shook his hand off. "You bastard!" I hissed. "I thought …." Then, as the stairway door was abruptly opened from the inside, I felt his hand clamp over my mouth. Davey was caught completely by surprise as the youngest of the three suits grabbed him, spun him around and hit him hard in the stomach. It was no contest, a fully grown man against a boy, and I shuddered at Davey's cry. "I have one of them, Mr Ashmiel, I have one of them!" he called up the stairs, and as Lolly and I watched in mute horror, Mr Ashmiel walked slowly through the door, brushing imaginary dust off his suit with a glove. He looked dispassionately at Davey, who was rolling on the floor, holding his stomach and groaning. "The others?" he enquired mildly, "and where are the others, Marhmoud?" "I … I don't know." Marhmoud turned around and hauled Davey to his feet, then holding him by his neck, face against a large wooden packing case, he took off a shoe and belted Davey hard on the arse. Davey screamed. "Where are the others, little boy?" he asked, and struck him again without waiting for a reply. "I DON'T KNOW!" Davey shouted, sobbing, "I don't fucking know … we got separated and the bastards left me." Lolly and I were holding each other tightly, cheek to cheek. I found myself comforting him, murmuring in his ear that it would all be ok, that they'd soon be gone. We were watching the scene unfold through a small gap in the stack of washing machines, and I found myself starting to stroke his hair. He clutched me tighter as Marhmoud struck Davey for a third and fourth time, and then it got a whole lot worse. The security guard finally arrived. I'd forgotten about him, and it seemed that Mr Ashmiel had too. The look of surprise that crossed his face turned swiftly to one of disdain as he eyed the dishevelled uniform and the poor sod who was wearing it. The guard was holding a half-eaten baguette in one hand and a short ex-police truncheon in the other, and it was obvious he was totally out of his depth. "What the fu…," he started as the dart from Ashmiel's gun took him in the throat. He was dead before he hit the floor. Ashmiel licked his lips, and then walked to where Davey was cowering against the packing case. He leant over and slowly removed Davey's beanie, then ran his fingers through his hair, ending up caressing the boy's cheek. His hand paused momentarily and his thumb ran lightly over Davey's lips. Davey shuddered, the fear in his eyes obvious even from where we were watching. Ashmiel laughed. "Pretty, very pretty." He stood up and holstered his pistol. "Bring him, Marhmoud!" "But …." "I said 'bring him', and fetch your stupid brother too; trust him to miss … what is the phrase these heathens use? … ah, yes, 'all the excitement'. I will be in the car." And with that, Ashmiel strode off in the direction of the Delivery entrance. Marhmoud pulled out a cell phone and made a hurried call in what sounded like Arabic; then he went over and bent down to pick Davey up. "Please, no!" Davey cried out. "Excuse me," I said behind him. Marhmoud shot to his feet, which was perfect, as I kicked him as hard as I could in the balls at the same time as Lolly hit him over the head with the guard's discarded truncheon. He dropped to the floor unconscious. "Two for two?" I said, grinning at Lolly as we heard the sound of feet clattering down the stairwell. "Fucking A, dude!" Lolly replied, helping his brother sit on a chair out of the way. "We'll be back in a tick, little bro," he added softly, "you did really well." Marhmoud's brother made the mistake of jumping the last set of stairs, which meant the doors we shut in his face hit him with even more force. Cautiously we opened them, Lolly holding the truncheon high over his head just in case. The man, an older version of Marhmoud, was unconscious, with a badly broken nose and probably teeth too. He was bleeding copiously from a torn ear. "Shall we tie them up?" I asked, walking over to see how Davey was doing. "Fuck that," Lolly countered, "we don't want that Ashmiel man coming back. He shot … what did he shoot the guard with, anyway? "M99," I replied without thinking, looking Davey in the eye. I continued, "Thank you, Doofus, I think I owe you my life." "No problem, Gabriel." He got up wincing. "Is it ok if we get the hell out of here right now? 'cause I think I need to wash that man off me." There were tears streaming down his face, and he wasn't bothering to hide them. "Please, guys." *** Half an hour later we were standing in front of a concierge in the lobby of an exclusive apartment building on the far side of the park. "His Highness is expecting you?" The old man, who was dressed in a red velvet uniform with gold braid and a medal strip, was looking at us in total disbelief. "Pull the other one, boys, it's got bells on it." He started ushering us towards the door. "Now if you fancy upsetting …." "Jenkins." We stopped, and the concierge turned to the speaker and sighed. "Yes, Master Gilbert?" "Why are you throwing His Highness's friends out … again?" Chapter 2 • Index • Chapter 4 Seraph by Camy © 2006/2007/2008 Thanks to Kitty, for all the editorial input and tweaking. She has made this tale much, much better than it was. Gassho. Your name: Your e-mail address: copy message to you Subject: