Read Online The World Ends at Five & Other Stories by M Pepper Langlinais - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: M Pepper Langlinais
Ads: Link
the man in front of her.
There was the soft creak of leather and springs as Lucien rose and came around the desk to lean over her. “That better?” he asked. But she would not look directly at him, so he rose to full height to tower over her instead.
“Did you know, Miss Abernathy,” he began, suddenly very interested in his fingernails, “that you are the only righteous person in this city?”
Doria allowed herself a brief glance at the man, t hen looked away quickly, blushing.
“You’re frightened of me,” Lucien said with the vague nod of an analyst. “There’s no need to be. I’ve gone to great pains to bring you here safely. I need you here. As long as you are here in my city, nothing can harm me or it . Now, would you like a drink?”
This time, Doria allowed herself an extended look at the man as he gestured to someone who’d been standing in a corner of the room near the bar. It was dark, but as he turned toward the windows to look out, the lights of the city brought his pale features into better focus. He was attractive, she decided, in an aristocratic way. The dark suit made his silver-blond hair appear to shine of its own accord, as if lit from something inside. But for all his beauty and manners, she still didn’t like him.
The shadowy figure came over to hand her a glass of something that might have been wine. It was a woman in a tight dress, copper hair falling to her waist. The woman scowled at Doria , handed her the drink, and returned to her corner.
Doria looked into the glass, glanced again at the man’s stiff back as he stared out the window at “his city,” bit her lip and began silently to cry.
Andrew’s head swiveled suddenly to the right and his lip curled.
“We shouldn’t have told them why we are here,” said Stephen quietly.
“As if lying were an option?” snarled the increasingly irritated Andrew.
“Silence might have been,” the younger angel suggested, though there was little conviction in his voice. “Still, I don’t suppose there is any way we’re going to lose. . .” He gave a little sigh that might have signaled regret, if angels feel such things.
“This way,” Andrew instructed sharply, setting off in a new direction.
“Miss Abernathy,” Lucien sighed without turning, “I really wish you wouldn’t do that.”
Doria only sobbed harder in trying to stop. After a long moment, Lucien finally turned and crossed to her. Shoving a handkerchief at her, he said more harshly, “Stop that!”
She took the handkerchief and sniffled into it, not looking up but very aware of his frown as he towered above her. Slowly, however, the displeasure melted into something more like curiosity. He leaned against the edge of his desk and tilted his head. “Were you never tempted to do anything wrong?” he asked abruptly.
The woman in the corner of the room stirred, and a strange growling noise came from where she stood. “Quiet!” Lucien shouted at her over his shoulder.
Doria dabbed at her eyes. “I’m sorry?”
“It’s not right,” Lucien said, standing again, starting to pace. “It’s not. . . human .” He whirled on her suddenly. “You are human, aren’t you?”
Doria opened her mouth, but she was too startled by the question to speak.
He came close to her, bent over her, took her chin in his hand and began to peer into her face. “You’re not an angel. What else might you be?”
Doria started to draw back, but his firm hold prevented it. His grip felt as if it could break bone if he so wished. “Please, I don’t understand.”
He let go of her, began pacing again. “What good is it? Not that I’m not grateful, mind you. I am in need of a righteous person at the moment and you are the only one qualified.”
Doria cleared her throat a little. “Can I ask. . . I mean , do you mind if I ask what this is all about?” Her voice was a thin, silver string in the darkness.
“It’s about the end of the world. And I’ll bet you
There was the soft creak of leather and springs as Lucien rose and came around the desk to lean over her. “That better?” he asked. But she would not look directly at him, so he rose to full height to tower over her instead.
“Did you know, Miss Abernathy,” he began, suddenly very interested in his fingernails, “that you are the only righteous person in this city?”
Doria allowed herself a brief glance at the man, t hen looked away quickly, blushing.
“You’re frightened of me,” Lucien said with the vague nod of an analyst. “There’s no need to be. I’ve gone to great pains to bring you here safely. I need you here. As long as you are here in my city, nothing can harm me or it . Now, would you like a drink?”
This time, Doria allowed herself an extended look at the man as he gestured to someone who’d been standing in a corner of the room near the bar. It was dark, but as he turned toward the windows to look out, the lights of the city brought his pale features into better focus. He was attractive, she decided, in an aristocratic way. The dark suit made his silver-blond hair appear to shine of its own accord, as if lit from something inside. But for all his beauty and manners, she still didn’t like him.
The shadowy figure came over to hand her a glass of something that might have been wine. It was a woman in a tight dress, copper hair falling to her waist. The woman scowled at Doria , handed her the drink, and returned to her corner.
Doria looked into the glass, glanced again at the man’s stiff back as he stared out the window at “his city,” bit her lip and began silently to cry.
Andrew’s head swiveled suddenly to the right and his lip curled.
“We shouldn’t have told them why we are here,” said Stephen quietly.
“As if lying were an option?” snarled the increasingly irritated Andrew.
“Silence might have been,” the younger angel suggested, though there was little conviction in his voice. “Still, I don’t suppose there is any way we’re going to lose. . .” He gave a little sigh that might have signaled regret, if angels feel such things.
“This way,” Andrew instructed sharply, setting off in a new direction.
“Miss Abernathy,” Lucien sighed without turning, “I really wish you wouldn’t do that.”
Doria only sobbed harder in trying to stop. After a long moment, Lucien finally turned and crossed to her. Shoving a handkerchief at her, he said more harshly, “Stop that!”
She took the handkerchief and sniffled into it, not looking up but very aware of his frown as he towered above her. Slowly, however, the displeasure melted into something more like curiosity. He leaned against the edge of his desk and tilted his head. “Were you never tempted to do anything wrong?” he asked abruptly.
The woman in the corner of the room stirred, and a strange growling noise came from where she stood. “Quiet!” Lucien shouted at her over his shoulder.
Doria dabbed at her eyes. “I’m sorry?”
“It’s not right,” Lucien said, standing again, starting to pace. “It’s not. . . human .” He whirled on her suddenly. “You are human, aren’t you?”
Doria opened her mouth, but she was too startled by the question to speak.
He came close to her, bent over her, took her chin in his hand and began to peer into her face. “You’re not an angel. What else might you be?”
Doria started to draw back, but his firm hold prevented it. His grip felt as if it could break bone if he so wished. “Please, I don’t understand.”
He let go of her, began pacing again. “What good is it? Not that I’m not grateful, mind you. I am in need of a righteous person at the moment and you are the only one qualified.”
Doria cleared her throat a little. “Can I ask. . . I mean , do you mind if I ask what this is all about?” Her voice was a thin, silver string in the darkness.
“It’s about the end of the world. And I’ll bet you
Similar Books
