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they broke into
    wild giggles. “Nice arse as well as the rest of you,” one of them called out. “Want to
    keep us company?”
    Enraged at being treated like a piece of meat, Kael turned on them. “Go to
    hell. I‟m queer!”
    Startled and obviously intimidated by his size and booming voice, the women
    fell silent, stared at him in alarm for a few seconds, and hurried off. Kael watched
    them go, feeling like a bully. They weren‟t much older than Angel, and despite his
    boy‟s intelligence, he could behave like a kid at a moment‟s notice. He‟d say the
    same stupid things to a good-looking man if he was out with his school friends.
    Turning on his heel, Kael strode after the young women. “Wait,” he called.

    Angel and the Assassin: Be Brave

    19

    One of them saw him coming and screamed. In another second, they were all
    screaming while attempting to run away, tottering on high stiletto heels, arms
    waving like scarecrows.
    “Stop right there please, sir.” Two uniformed constables began crossing the
    road, darting through heavy evening traffic toward him.
    “Christ!” He stood still while they approached.
    “Do you have a problem with those ladies, or were they having a problem with
    you?” The two young officers were both shorter than Kael. They stood about two feet
    back and separated about three feet from each other. Kael knew the stance. They
    were ready to take him down if he tried to run. They had no idea he could kill them
    both and flee the scene without anyone seeing him.
    “They were being stupid, so I told them off,” he said. “But I didn‟t mean to
    frighten them. I was trying to apologize.”
    The slightly taller of the two constables, a good-looking blond man with rosy
    pink cheeks and an arrogant attitude, said, “Do you do that sort of thing often, sir?”
    Still hurt and insulted about losing his teaching position, Kael‟s jaw clenched
    as his anger flared again. “I‟m reaching into my pocket for my identification.” From
    the inside pocket of his leather jacket, he withdrew his SIS identification card. His
    top security clearance had never been removed, meaning the police could not detain
    him even momentarily without the permission of his superiors.
    The young constables looked at it and stepped away. “Thank you, sir. Have a
    good evening.”
    Kael walked quickly into the Underground. All he wanted was to get home to
    his beautiful flat on the Thames—and to Angel.

    20
    Fyn Alexander

    Chapter Three

    The minute Kael opened the front door, he heard two voices. Quietly he closed
    it and listened. Angel‟s distinct American accent rose up, along with the laughter
    that always lifted Kael‟s heart. An English accent responded, a young man whose
    voice had broken no more than a couple of years ago and was still light and pure,
    just like Angel‟s. It must be Jack, Angel‟s new friend.
    In the living room, Angel‟s laptop sat on the coffee table. And thrown on the
    couch where anybody could sit on them were the expensive Irlen lenses Kael had
    bought the boy to protect his sensitive eyes from the light. Angry at his
    carelessness, Kael picked them up, folded in the arms, and placed them safely on
    the coffee table. On silent feet, he followed the voices to the dungeon door. The
    dungeon was a third bedroom Kael had converted five years ago when he had first
    bought the flat.
    Angel was still wearing the smart black trousers, white shirt, and red and
    black striped tie he wore to the expensive sixth form college Kael had sent him to.
    The other boy, as slender and pretty as Angel, in a matching school uniform,
    wandered about admiring the leather sling, the flogging post, the torture table and
    chair. They looked like a couple of yaoi boys. Kael had never heard of yaoi until he‟d
    spotted one of Angel‟s graphic novels on the coffee table one day. It was full of
    stories and pictures of pretty, androgynous boys making out. If they‟d had that stuff
    when he was a kid,