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Chapter 8 - Chapter Eight - Shadows and Angels

Frederick sprang up from his king sized bed, like he was pricked by a pin immediately his bedside digital alarm blared to life. He had barely gotten up to an hour of sleep, and it was already 6 a.m. His parents were not up yet, so he decided to hit the gym at the other end of the mansion first before they got down to the business that was responsible for his insomnia in the past couple days.  

Working out was more of a habit than a hobby to him. A perfect way to vent his frustration and anger. Coming back the previous night, with his tail between his feet, like a scared puppy, made it all the more expedient.

"96… 97… 98…" He kept going, oblivious of the fact that he now had company. The sweat from his face and finely toned biceps had formed a puddle around him.

Louisa cleared her throat. "I can see you are busy." She made her way towards him smiling, with a white towel in hand.

Frederick straightened up, panting as he blew off the sweat trickling into his mouth. 

"Good morning, Mum." He greeted, taking the towel from her to dab his face. "Thanks. How long you been here?" 

"Long enough to deduce that you are troubled. You've been home for five days and you've still not said anything." 

He gave a nervous chuckle. He kept tugging at his gym clothes, that were now plastered on his body, like an extension of his skin.

"Is dad up?"

"Yeah and he is asking for you."

"Let me go freshen up then."

"Breakfast will be served by the time you are done."

Henry was stirring his coffee pensively, when Frederick returned to join them. He acknowledged him and set down the spoon, taking a sip of it.

"Son, how was your night?"

"Barely slept."

"Good. I gave you time to figure things out. Now, tell us; what really happened?" He probed, munching on his French toast.

Henry and Louisa listened for clues as Frederick narrated his ordeal.

"Any remarkable features or descriptions?" Louisa asked with creased brows. 

Frederick heaved, "Honestly, their features are blur in my memory, but the guy had this ominous aura and weird looking tattoo on one side of his face." He thought for a bit "I guess the lady can pass for the most beautiful lady I have ever crossed paths with." Suddenly remembering, he snapped his fingers, "her name is Carina."

"You mentioned she left a note, yeah?"

Frederick quickly rose to his feet, "give me a minute." He ran up the flight of stairs in a flash and returned with a nearly folded piece of paper.

"Read it out." Henry instructed, leaning back.

Fredrick felt fresh goosebumps come over him, he struggled to catch his breath. Louisa felt his unease and placed a hand over his, rubbing it gently.

"Take your time."

"In ancient bloodlines… a secret is told. I know your fate and the power you hold… When time is right, I will find you and claim… Your blood and your guardian name! 

Your friend from the shadows!"

By the time Frederick was done reading, Henry was already simmering. Their confusion was glaring.

"These miscreants are messing with the wrong person. What arrant bullshit!" He thundered, his voice reverberating through the entire room.

"A friend from the shadows?" Louisa repeated the words slowly and intuitively. "Why can't they stop playing games, for heaven's sake?"

"I don't think, they are playing games, Mum. They are deliberately trying to drive me nuts and it's working".

"We really need to do something about this. Desperate times they say, call for desperate measures. And God help me, if I lay my hand on any of them. I will skin them alive, I swear it."

Henry stood up angrily and marched off to his study. He needed to intimate James on the new development. Pretending to have it under control would do more harm than good, and he could really use James' influence at the time.

He came downstairs after a few minutes and announced, "The Browns will be here any moment."

The announcement left Frederick wondering, why Stacey's family had to be involved, but he didn't say a word. He just wanted answers.

When the Browns arrived, Henry and Louisa were seated in their garden, going over all that Frederick had told them, trying to make sense of it.

Frederick joined them looking all dressed up with a woolen muffler wrapped around his neck. Stacey stifled a chuckle. Does he have to make a statement with everything he wears?

"Hi," he greeted brusquely, taking his seat near his dad.

"Freddy, kindly read out the note to them." Henry said.

Frederick rummaged through his pocket and pulled it out. Taking a deep breath, he read the note and began narrating his experience. Stacey interrupted him, as was her habit.

"How did you say you met the lady again?" She asked with a tint of sarcasm.

"At the club." He replied without looking up.

"That's where she dropped the note?" She was pulling his legs and liked how pissed he was getting.

"No, dumbass. She joined me at the hotel." He growled, barely keeping his temper in check.

Stacey cackled, "As expected. You're lucky, she didn't kill you."

Stacey's words juggled something in his memory as he winced in pain, holding his neck, as if to stop the sting. His reaction drew Louisa's attention.

"What is it?" She queried, rushing over to his side.

"It's nothing, Mum." He protested, but Louisa was already moving the muffler aside. Her eyes felt like they were going to pop out of their sockets.

"What's the matter Louisa? You look like you have just seen a ghost."

Everyone was perched anxiously at the edge of their seats, even Stacey sobered up.

"There is a needle mark here. Just right above his jugular vein." She announced. "Fred, how long has this been here?" She interrogated.

"Actually, I noticed it after Carina left, but I didn't think it was anything, though she alluded to something like 'thanks for the blood'. And…" he hesitated, trying to decide if he wanted to share more information with Stacey there, or risk dying in silence. He decided having her mock him was better than death. "I've been getting a stinging sensation, every now and then, so I think she drew my blood."

"Do such words sound like a flimsy comment?" Henry barked at him. "Why would you hide such a sensitive detail?"

The tension in the air was many layers thick. No one uttered a word, and Frederick dared not answer the question thrown at him. 

"Can't this Carina lady be found?" Susan asked, directing the question to Fredrick.

He stuttered, "I can't seem to remember her face."

Stacey's eyes rolled in disgust, "You probably shagged more than one lady so, how would you remember her face?"

Fredrick stayed silent, ignoring Stacey's comment.

"What do you mean you can't remember?" James pressed.

Fredrick's brow furrowed. "Every time I try to picture her face, it blurs out, and I get this sharp headache. But I remember other details… her voice, her laugh, her perfume…"

"Like that is supposed to be of help." Stacey hissed. She couldn't hide how disgusted she was at him.

James' eyes narrowed. "And the man in the elevator? Did you see his face?"

Fredrick nodded. "I did. I remember his height, his tattoo, but his face… it's like a blank space."

Stacey's expression turned skeptical. "Convenient memory loss, don't you think?"

Fredrick's defenses rose this time. "Do you think I would lie over something this serious?"

"How about getting the CCTV footages from the hotel and the club maybe?" Susan suggested.

"That is a brilliant idea. Why didn't we think of that?" Henry commented.

"What did you say is the name of the hotel?" James asked.

"Hotel Vasquez." Fredrick supplied.

"I see. That makes things easy for us then. The man that owns the hotel is an old friend. I am sure he wouldn't mind giving us access to the footages." James said, already taking out his phone.

Stacey reckoned that this was possibly the best time, to come clean about the night mares that have been haunting her. "Before that, I have something urgent to say too."

Everyone's attention shifted to her.

"I've been having nightmares lately." She blurted. She recounted the dreams, trying her possible best to remember as much detail as she could.

When she mentioned the name Azrael, Henry's eyes widened, and he excused himself abruptly, dashing into the house.  He returned with a dusty old box, rummaging through it. 

"My late wife's research notes… I remember her mentioning that name. It has to be here somewhere."

He handed out the notes, and they all began their arduous search. Minutes ticked, the tension building.

Suddenly, Louisa gasped. "Here! I found it!"

They hurdled up around her, eyes fixed on the page. Louisa's voice trembled as she read aloud:

"Azrael… The fallen angel of light."

Fredrick's face paled. James' eyes clouded with fear.

"Lucifer?" Stacey asked, eyes widened in horror.