I barely inclined my head in acknowledgement.
“This way, sir.”
I followed the servant upstairs. The second floor had just as many paintings as the first. I was also right about the rooms: the hallways were lined with doors. It didn’t surprise me that the level of craftsmanship was far beyond anything I’d ever seen. The servant stopped in front of an open door and bowed me inside.
The room was elegant, yet plain. Across the room from where I stood was a large west-facing window that stretched from floor to ceiling. The view of the ocean was almost breathtaking. To my right was a large bed—king sized from the looks of it—on which were a clean set of clothes. I walked over to them and heard the door close with a snap. The clothes were simple: khakis and a white button-up shirt. They looked about my size. I still had no idea why I was supposed to change. I mean it wasn’t like I was dirty—a little sandy perhaps.
Oh well.
I changed quickly and walked back to the door. Upon opening it I came face-to-face with Victoria. She was tapping her foot with an air of impatience as though she’d been waiting a long time.
“About ti—”
But I cut her off. I was at my wits end with her little attitude.
“Look, you can stop trying to show the world that you hate me. As a matter of fact, you can stop talking altogether. Your voice is becoming quite irksome.”
That shut her up. She pursed her lips and eyed me beadily. Then abruptly she turned on her heals and walked away without another word. I sighed, sticking my hands in my pockets and followed after her. We walked in silence. The whole time I kept wondering what I had done to turn her against me so suddenly. I didn’t know why but for some reason I was still attracted to this girl.
Victoria came to a halt in front of a huge set of double doors. She reached for the handle, and as she did so, I saw that her palm lines were knotted exactly as mine were knotted.
Had this been the reason behind her strange behavior toward me?
I noted that Victoria had yet to enter the room and I got the distinct impression that I was supposed to go alone. But before I entered the room Victoria and I locked eyes once more and I knew the attraction was still there. It was almost tangible. Victoria looked away from me quickly. But I knew that she had felt it too. I walked into the room and she shut the door behind me.
This room was both large and eerie. There were no windows either and the only source of light was a large stone fireplace. Not too far from where I stood there was a massive round table that appeared to have been carved out of pure marble. Around this table were nine thrones that were both ancient and intimidating. Many of the thrones had engravings of some sort on the back of them. I didn’t recognize the language but I could read it as easily as if it were written in English.
Whoa.
I wasn’t expecting that.
Staring at the lettering I saw that the throne nearest me read Seraph. As I pondered the significance behind the word I heard the distinct sound of breathing.
Someone was in here with me.
My eyes quickly roved around the room and I soon spotted a person standing next to the fireplace.
I blinked.
I was certain that there was no one there a few minutes ago. The guy must have been lurking in the shadows. I only saw his back but I knew at once that this must be a relation of Victoria’s; like her he had a majesty about him that could not be ignored.
“Come closer, Amadeus,” he said in deep, strong voice.
I walked forward apprehensively not knowing what to expect.
The man turned towards me when I was a few steps away. At first I thought I was beholding Victoria’s brother for he was young—probably no older than twenty-one—and was more or less the same height as she was. They even shared similar facial characteristics and his hair was just as raven as Victoria’s, but his eyes—his eyes were silver.
I froze and recollected with vivid clarity the last time I had met another silver-eyed adult other than my false parents. Not too long ago the Angels had brought several of their silver-eyed friends to visit. Actually, “visit” was a bit of an understatement. They had come for one reason and one reason alone: to extract tears from me. These group torture sessions had occurred on and off for the last fifteen years and now it seemed they were about happen again.
I removed my hands from my pockets and balled them into fists.
If this man wanted to taste my tears, so be it. I wouldn’t run. I learned long ago that there was no running from those with silver eyes.
“I am not a member of the Fallen, Amadeus,” he said reassuringly, “Your tears are of no interest to me.”
But I was hardly reassured. Several silver-eyed people had pretended to befriend me only to betray in the end. At times I found this emotional torment far worse than my physical sufferings. I still had no idea what the Fallen were. And this man’s assurance that he wasn’t one hardly put me at ease.
The man seemed to want to come closer, but kept his distance and I was grateful.
“My name is Alexander Seraph. And the building in which you are standing, is my home—Seraph Manor.
Seraph? Well that explains the word on the throne.
“You are right about not trying to run away. It would be futile and for the time being I cannot allow you to leave Pebble Beach. But unlike William and Catherine, you are not our prisoner. ”
So my false parents had been detained.
Interesting.
I wonder what laws they’ve violated.
“They’ve only violated one law, Amadeus—our single and most sacred of laws—the taking of human life.”
So my false parents were murderers. I was hardly surprised by this revelation.
“While you are here you will be attending school alongside my daughter, Victoria,” continued Mr. Seraph.
I gawked at him.
Daughter?
So this was Victoria’s father.
Like my false parents this man seemed to be blessed with agelessness.
“We have taken the liberty of having your school grades transferred here,” he continued, “They’re quite impressive. High school will hardly be a challenge for someone of your caliber.”
Hardly a challenge was a bit of understatement. After all, for reasons that eluded me completely, my false parents educated me well into the college level. Attending high school classes again would be nothing less than a cakewalk.
I wondered what grade I was going to be put in.
“I think the twelfth one will suit you nicely.”
My eyes narrowed. It seemed that this man could read my mind
