Read Online The Few (The Abductions of Langley Garret Book 2) by Derek Haines - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Derek Haines
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and a monster in a bad suit. Then had me drugged, tied up, flown to god knows where and dropped on an island in the middle of nowhere.'
'It was time.'
'Fuck!'
'If I hadn't, you would've been dead within two days. Possibly sooner.'
'Why should I believe any of this? You know, it's not as if it's the first fucking fairytale I've been told just recently.'
'I can understand that a lot of what you've been through is difficult for you to understand and that you feel angry about it.'
'Angry? Why should I be angry? My wife's dead, my life's been taken away from me and thugs in crappy suits keep pestering me. And not to mention that my apartment's blown to hell!'
'Yet somehow you're still alive and sitting here drinking beer, looking out over Lake Como. I'd say you're quite fortunate.'
'So I'm only here because you've been protecting me? Is this what you call protecting me?' I asked, as I showed him my next to useless left hand.
'Yes.'
'For fuck's sake,' I spat, then calmed just a little. 'I'm just your fucking puppet, aren't I?'
He took a long gulp of his beer. 'You really are like your mother, but she didn't used to swear as much. Just as hot headed though,' he said and laughed. I sipped my beer and waited. I'm not sure what for, but I was angry and feeling used, as the man opposite me, as old and innocent as he looked, played me for a fool. Or at least I thought that's what he was doing. I looked at him, and his eyes took mine in a long stare, as if challenging me to a duel of wills.
'There's no possible way that you can prove you're my father.'
He sipped his beer then slowly topped up his glass from the can sitting beside his glass. 'When you were ten days old, it was my sworn duty to mark you with the Ten Sons. The mark of the fourth son on the right side of your neck is not straight and its formed incorrectly because the needle I was using broke. I had to ask your mother to find a pair of tweezers to remove the snapped needle from your neck. I held you until she returned, but by the time I finally removed it, you had bled quite badly and you were screaming and wriggling in your mother's arms as I tried to finish the fourth line. When I cleaned the wound, the ash die had spread through the wound created by the broken needle and spoilt the line and it blackened into a round ball at the end of it. You were in such pain that I gave in to Andrea's pleading and finished your marks the next day.'
'My mother's name was Andrea? I thought she was called Melinoë.'
'As you're Soter. Her name was Andrea Lloyd, and she was given to me by the Sons of Cleito. I'm sure you're aware now of how this tradition works.'
Giovanna appeared at the door to the terrace, and before I could answer, he seemed to sense her behind him. 'More beer please,' he said, without moving his eyes from me. When he had sensed she had turned and returned inside he continued. 'When I was finally able to finish the last of your ten lines the next day, I had to make a new mix of dye, so the fifth line on your right side is lighter than the others.'
My hand went to my neck, and I pulled it away quickly, not wanting yet to admit that what he had said was probably true, but knowing that how he had described the marks on the right side of my neck was very accurate.
'Your mother never adapted to being within, and fought the traditions that were a necessary part of our existence. Call her a rebel if you will, but she fought every inch of the way. Not just me, but everything that was expected from her. In the end, it was my father who accepted her pleadings to leave.'
'By boat as Leda showed me?'
'Yes, it was from the island. I can't recall exactly, maybe sixty-eight or nine but we were spending the summer on the island. I think you were three, so it must've been sixty-eight. We lived in Athens the rest of the year and, well, I don't know, but Andrea must've found the life more to her liking in Athens, or she had a lover. I never really knew. Anyway, she got
'It was time.'
'Fuck!'
'If I hadn't, you would've been dead within two days. Possibly sooner.'
'Why should I believe any of this? You know, it's not as if it's the first fucking fairytale I've been told just recently.'
'I can understand that a lot of what you've been through is difficult for you to understand and that you feel angry about it.'
'Angry? Why should I be angry? My wife's dead, my life's been taken away from me and thugs in crappy suits keep pestering me. And not to mention that my apartment's blown to hell!'
'Yet somehow you're still alive and sitting here drinking beer, looking out over Lake Como. I'd say you're quite fortunate.'
'So I'm only here because you've been protecting me? Is this what you call protecting me?' I asked, as I showed him my next to useless left hand.
'Yes.'
'For fuck's sake,' I spat, then calmed just a little. 'I'm just your fucking puppet, aren't I?'
He took a long gulp of his beer. 'You really are like your mother, but she didn't used to swear as much. Just as hot headed though,' he said and laughed. I sipped my beer and waited. I'm not sure what for, but I was angry and feeling used, as the man opposite me, as old and innocent as he looked, played me for a fool. Or at least I thought that's what he was doing. I looked at him, and his eyes took mine in a long stare, as if challenging me to a duel of wills.
'There's no possible way that you can prove you're my father.'
He sipped his beer then slowly topped up his glass from the can sitting beside his glass. 'When you were ten days old, it was my sworn duty to mark you with the Ten Sons. The mark of the fourth son on the right side of your neck is not straight and its formed incorrectly because the needle I was using broke. I had to ask your mother to find a pair of tweezers to remove the snapped needle from your neck. I held you until she returned, but by the time I finally removed it, you had bled quite badly and you were screaming and wriggling in your mother's arms as I tried to finish the fourth line. When I cleaned the wound, the ash die had spread through the wound created by the broken needle and spoilt the line and it blackened into a round ball at the end of it. You were in such pain that I gave in to Andrea's pleading and finished your marks the next day.'
'My mother's name was Andrea? I thought she was called Melinoë.'
'As you're Soter. Her name was Andrea Lloyd, and she was given to me by the Sons of Cleito. I'm sure you're aware now of how this tradition works.'
Giovanna appeared at the door to the terrace, and before I could answer, he seemed to sense her behind him. 'More beer please,' he said, without moving his eyes from me. When he had sensed she had turned and returned inside he continued. 'When I was finally able to finish the last of your ten lines the next day, I had to make a new mix of dye, so the fifth line on your right side is lighter than the others.'
My hand went to my neck, and I pulled it away quickly, not wanting yet to admit that what he had said was probably true, but knowing that how he had described the marks on the right side of my neck was very accurate.
'Your mother never adapted to being within, and fought the traditions that were a necessary part of our existence. Call her a rebel if you will, but she fought every inch of the way. Not just me, but everything that was expected from her. In the end, it was my father who accepted her pleadings to leave.'
'By boat as Leda showed me?'
'Yes, it was from the island. I can't recall exactly, maybe sixty-eight or nine but we were spending the summer on the island. I think you were three, so it must've been sixty-eight. We lived in Athens the rest of the year and, well, I don't know, but Andrea must've found the life more to her liking in Athens, or she had a lover. I never really knew. Anyway, she got
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