Read Online Shadow Light (Beautiful Beings #3) by Kailin Gow - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kailin Gow
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show me then glanced up at Moore who still stood, waiting. “Pull up a chair and have pizza.”
“You made me race across town to get you to Brax,” he argued. “And now you want me to sit back and eat some damned pizza.”
“Moore, please. Give him a chance.” I reached up to grasp his fingers and soothe him.
“Who are you and what do you want with Brax… with us?”
“Please,” the man said. “Sit down. I will tell you everything.”
Chapter 9
Time to Mend
H e finally introduced himself as Markus, though he offered little more in the way of information. The pizza seemed to please him immensely, as though he’d not eaten in days, and while he questioned us on our trip to Italy, our appreciation of our surroundings and the people we’d met so far, he didn’t delve too deeply in our backgrounds, angelic, demonic, or otherwise.
There was no talk of the events Moore and I had witnessed at the small chapel, and he almost gave the appearance of a plain and rather ordinary man, hooded cloak aside.
I bit back a hundred and one questions, and I could see the guys were anxious to see the conversation elevate to something more profound, but Markus seemed intent on keeping the discussion light.
“Okay,” he said after an eternal amount of chewing on his last bite. He clapped his hands free of any remaining flour and crumbs, in no way rushed to finish his thought. “I think I may have something of interest to show you chaps. What sort of transportation have you been relying on since your arrival?”
“We have a rental,” Moore said with some impatience and bitterness. “A small rental.”
“Think you can squeeze me in?”
We left the small eatery and soon found out.
As it turned out, it was a tight squeeze, but we all managed to get into the car. Markus took the front passenger seat and, with more finesse and just as much accuracy as any GPS, he guided us out of Velletri and onto the country roads of Italy.
Markus offered various comments on the expansive villas we passed and told us a bit about the history of the province of Latina, through which we drove. But for all his chatter, there was nothing profound or pertinent… it was all interesting, but trivial.
Scrunched up between Braxton and Asher in the back seat, I gazed from one to the other as Markus continued his idle chatter. Asher shrugged his shoulders, which cause a bit of a domino effect across the seat, and Brax simply stared at Markus as though preparing for an attack.
His face solemn, he reached for my hand and squeezed my fingers. Though we lacked the liberty to speak aloud our doubts and suspicions, I could feel Braxton’s fear in his very fingertips. He was unsure of this hooded man, this Markus who led us to undisclosed destinations.
I concentrated my gaze on the sceneries we passed, not so much in an attempt to enjoy the ride, but more to remember the roads we’d taken and the twists and turns. Somehow I need to grasp something concrete, like where we were exactly and where we were going. I couldn’t help but feel disturbed by the ignorance Markus kept us in and being able to itemize the various views gave me a bit of reassurance and a sense of security, however false that sense of security might be.
The makings of a small town began to creep through the picturesque countryside and soon we were driving through cramped streets and up to an imposing monastery.
“Impressive, is it not?” Markus said as he stepped out of the car and stretched his limbs.
We all looked at the building that was indeed impressive.
“The beauty of gothic straight from twelfth century,” he went on as he led us to the double arched gate. “The architecture was meant to be somewhat sedate, almost austere, all the better to pray without distraction.”
For all its austerity, there remained something opulent about the building.
In the distance we could hear the faint echoes of chants, dark
“You made me race across town to get you to Brax,” he argued. “And now you want me to sit back and eat some damned pizza.”
“Moore, please. Give him a chance.” I reached up to grasp his fingers and soothe him.
“Who are you and what do you want with Brax… with us?”
“Please,” the man said. “Sit down. I will tell you everything.”
Chapter 9
Time to Mend
H e finally introduced himself as Markus, though he offered little more in the way of information. The pizza seemed to please him immensely, as though he’d not eaten in days, and while he questioned us on our trip to Italy, our appreciation of our surroundings and the people we’d met so far, he didn’t delve too deeply in our backgrounds, angelic, demonic, or otherwise.
There was no talk of the events Moore and I had witnessed at the small chapel, and he almost gave the appearance of a plain and rather ordinary man, hooded cloak aside.
I bit back a hundred and one questions, and I could see the guys were anxious to see the conversation elevate to something more profound, but Markus seemed intent on keeping the discussion light.
“Okay,” he said after an eternal amount of chewing on his last bite. He clapped his hands free of any remaining flour and crumbs, in no way rushed to finish his thought. “I think I may have something of interest to show you chaps. What sort of transportation have you been relying on since your arrival?”
“We have a rental,” Moore said with some impatience and bitterness. “A small rental.”
“Think you can squeeze me in?”
We left the small eatery and soon found out.
As it turned out, it was a tight squeeze, but we all managed to get into the car. Markus took the front passenger seat and, with more finesse and just as much accuracy as any GPS, he guided us out of Velletri and onto the country roads of Italy.
Markus offered various comments on the expansive villas we passed and told us a bit about the history of the province of Latina, through which we drove. But for all his chatter, there was nothing profound or pertinent… it was all interesting, but trivial.
Scrunched up between Braxton and Asher in the back seat, I gazed from one to the other as Markus continued his idle chatter. Asher shrugged his shoulders, which cause a bit of a domino effect across the seat, and Brax simply stared at Markus as though preparing for an attack.
His face solemn, he reached for my hand and squeezed my fingers. Though we lacked the liberty to speak aloud our doubts and suspicions, I could feel Braxton’s fear in his very fingertips. He was unsure of this hooded man, this Markus who led us to undisclosed destinations.
I concentrated my gaze on the sceneries we passed, not so much in an attempt to enjoy the ride, but more to remember the roads we’d taken and the twists and turns. Somehow I need to grasp something concrete, like where we were exactly and where we were going. I couldn’t help but feel disturbed by the ignorance Markus kept us in and being able to itemize the various views gave me a bit of reassurance and a sense of security, however false that sense of security might be.
The makings of a small town began to creep through the picturesque countryside and soon we were driving through cramped streets and up to an imposing monastery.
“Impressive, is it not?” Markus said as he stepped out of the car and stretched his limbs.
We all looked at the building that was indeed impressive.
“The beauty of gothic straight from twelfth century,” he went on as he led us to the double arched gate. “The architecture was meant to be somewhat sedate, almost austere, all the better to pray without distraction.”
For all its austerity, there remained something opulent about the building.
In the distance we could hear the faint echoes of chants, dark
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