Chapter 8
Archangel Israfel
Straight after Atward’s speech, Sir Albion whisked us out of the backstage area then stowed us in a shiny, black limousine parked in an isolated parking space. I was dazzled by the display of wealth, and even Sasuke seemed impressed.
I scowled, recalling what Sasuke had told me about Sir Albion. “So much for living humbly for the rest of his life...”
As soon as Sasuke and I were inside, Sir Albion and Atward—still carrying an unconscious Chaste—slid into the vehicle and sat opposite us. With this seating arrangement, it was almost funny, except that I wasn’t in the mood to laugh; it was like Sasuke and I were guilty suspects under close watch.
The ride was very quiet and—thankfully—very short. Before our seats were even warmed, the limo was pulling into Tokyo Dome Hotel’s driveway, which was entirely clogged by Atward’s fans. It actually took the chauffeur a good couple of minutes to move from the start of the driveway to the entrance of the hotel.
Before we exited, Sir Albion took over the job of carrying Chaste from Atward. Sasuke offered to help, but Atward declined it flatly. “Never allow any room for unfriendly paparazzi to write defamatory stories about you, Sasuke. You’ve been in this industry for a couple of years already, haven’t you? You should have known—one careless move and your career, your dreams, could all be jeopardised,” he chided, a little too ruthlessly. After all, Sasuke was just being the nice person he’d always been.
“Do you have to make him sound like an amateur?” I couldn’t stop myself from defending my friend. Honestly, I hadn’t known being a star would have so many restrictions. Like everyone else, I’d always thought they lived a glamorous lifestyle and got to do whatever they wanted, but apparently I was wrong. Moral of the story: don’t be too quick to judge. “He’s only trying to help, and I’m sure he knows his place in the industry he’s in.”
Atward’s eyes grew wide. He was apparently floored by my outburst, momentarily at a loss for words. When he spoke again, he stammered awkwardly, “Sorry—I don’t know what’s gotten into me—”
“It’s all right,” said Sasuke, offering Atward a genuine, radiant smile as someone pulled the car door open from outside.
Atward was first to get out, followed by Sir Albion and Chaste, and Sasuke and I clambered out last. Stepping out into the eyes of the public, Atward received a whole lot of attention immediately. Cameras and recorders from more than a dozen newspapers and TV stations were shooting him, while fans tried everything to get his attention. If I were him, I would have been irritated as hell, but Atward was gracious to every single one of them, signing as many autographs as he could along the path to the hotel.
As we walked into the hotel lobby, I gave Sasuke a light prod on his arm, mouthing a how at him when he looked at me. I was hoping he knew what to say to Sir Albion later, and fortunately enough, he doled out a comforting smile. I took it to mean he’d take care of things. If only I knew what he had in mind...
Atward took us up in the elevator, obviously bringing us to a room. We went all the way to the top floor and walked in complete silence along the vacant corridor until we reached the end of it. Reaching into his breast pocket, Atward produced a key card. He then used it on the last room, and the door swung open to reveal a suite where everything inside was extremely classy and lavish, fit even for a king. They called this living humbly? Seriously?
I didn’t voice my opinion though, because the moment we were inside, Sir Albion set his mouth into a hard line and aimed his accusative gaze at us, clearly waiting for us to explain ourselves. Atward gave Sasuke and me a sympathetic glance as he strolled over to one of the elegant suede couches near the window and laid Chaste on the soft, white cushions.
“Chaste wanted to go to Atward’s concert in Tokyo Dome, so we escorted her here,” Sasuke explained briefly—and a tad too truthfully.
Had I known Sasuke’s plan was simply telling the truth, I would have stopped him. Sir Albion wouldn’t buy it. Some people don’t listen to anyone else’s side of the story, but decide everything on their own, and Sir Albion was—no doubt—one of those people.
“I can’t believe the both of you, exposing yourselves to danger despite my umpteen warnings,” snapped Sir Albion, staring at us incredulously. “I don’t even know why you’re still alive and standing.”
“I can get everyone back to Singapore if Lucifer showed himself,” Sasuke fired back defensively. “You don’t understand, but I needed to see for myself how things were going in Tokyo.”
Sir Albion opened his mouth, but Atward put a hand on his shoulder.
“Averie, Sasuke, sit down,” said Atward in his gentle voice.
Tired of standing, I accepted the offer at once and plopped down onto the double couch next to the long one Chaste was lying on. A while later, Sasuke did the same. There was then some unspoken interaction between Atward and Sir Albion as they exchanged brief glances then, without another word, Sir Albion walked into one of the bedrooms and shut the door behind him.
Wow.
It was amazing how Atward worked like magic on the difficult old man.
Resting his hands on his waist, Atward breathed deeply and turned his attention to us, an affable look in his otherworldly eyes. “Shall we begin with a story?”
“Not another story,” I groaned. Atward arched an eyebrow, so I explained. “Archangels, astrological spirits, superhuman ability...everything. There’s too much to know and understand.”
Atward let out a small laugh that had a lovely ring to it as he settled down onto an armchair in front of us with a light grace. “Don’t get too stressed out. I’m sure it isn’t that hard.” He held a hand out to me as though we were meeting for the first time. “Sorry to only introduce myself properly now, I’m the Archangel Israfel—”
My jaw dropped in disbelief.