Page 4 of Dark Angel

Coming to a halt out the front of a large two-storey regency style manor, Valarie audibly gasps next to her brother as she takes in the sight of their new home. Jordan catches out the side of his eye his parents sharing a pleased smile, which settles something inside his chest.

The front garden is lush and symmetrical, with a five-foot high hedge and tall wrought-iron gates guarding the front. A small stone fountain constructed in the centre of the path leading to tall black painted doors at the entrance. Two full birch trees blooming rust coloured foliage, reminding Jordan of the ones back in Oxford.

The house itself is grand. Large bow windows along the bottom and sash windows above peer out onto the busy street. White bricks matching the rest of the manors lining the road, with thick ivy vines spidering up the walls. Windowsills filled with plants holding the last few flowers of autumn.

Valarie jumps down from the carriage as soon as it comes to a stop, not wanting to be contained for a second longer than she needs to be.

Jordan follows her out, taking in the size of the manor as Valarie disappears through the doors.

Dark-stained interior greets Jordan as he strolls in. Dove grey and white striped wallpaper, subtle and light against the deep washed flooring and furniture. Two grand staircases encircling the atrium, curving around the walls and meeting at the second-floor landing. A large silver chandelier hangs down, scattering gleaming light around in fragments. Scents of vanilla and linen linger in the air.

Staff are already wandering around the manor, making sure their belongings are all settled, and the place is looking presentable for their arrival.

Rosa has been a maid for the Carter family since she was fourteen years of age. A sweet younger lady, small and thin, with short brown hair that flicks around her neck and dark grey eyes resembling coal. She’s always been Jordan’s favourite, reading him and Valarie bedtime stories each evening when they were young-some of the supernatural world, others of trivial human nonsense-which they all found quite amusing.

Rosa has the Mark of a Spellcaster, but she herself has never had the power to create magic. Jordan felt sorry for her when he discovered her reasoning for working for his family, but she’s never seemed upset by the fact that she’s magicless. Most Seraphim staff are like this – Marked but magicless. It allows them to be themselves, not having to worry what Mortals might think of their habits.

She’s currently fluffing a cushion on one of the light blue armchairs in the parlour when she spots the family’s arrival. Rushing over, she gushes out excitedly, “Welcome to your new home, Mr. and Mrs. Carter. Dare I say it is exquisite.”

“Thank you, Rosa. It looks lovely in here. Have you chosen your quarters yet?” Josephine asks as Rosa gives her a small curtsy. She’s already dressed in her simple grey dress and polished boots she always wears in their presence. A white apron tied around her waist and neck.

“Yes, Ma’am, I will be in the east wing along with the other staff. I do believe your children are old enough now that they no longer need me close by anymore.” She grins warmly towards Valarie and Jordan.

Josephine pulls Rosa into an embrace as she always does. “We are so glad you could move with us. We greatly appreciate your work. You’re a part of the family now that you’ve been working with us for so long.”

Rosa’s charcoal eyes shine in response. She flattens the material of her apron, clearly blinking away tears. Clearing her throat, she proposes, “Shall I make you some tea then, to get you all settled?”

“That would be delightful, Rosa. I shall help you in the kitchen. I would love to inspect it and see where I can place my porcelain teacup collection.” Josephine accompanies Rosa out of the room, their familiar voices trailing off down the hallway.

Taking their belongings up to the second floor, Jordan finds that his quarters have been already arranged to match his in Oxford. It’s easily twice the size and painted a gentle blue shade to match the rest of the manor’s interior. A large bed fluffed with more pillows than necessary for one person, shelves lining an entire wall filled with his beloved books, a small fireplace decorated with white tiles, and his own private washroom.

Jordan crosses to peer out of the open window which overlooks the front garden beneath. It really is magical in London. Trees swaying gently in the breeze and birds singing joyfully. The street is bustling with life and people. Black handsome carriages roll down slowly, with the pleasant sound of horses’ hooves trotting rhythmically.

Turning back to his room, Jordan begins placing his mementos away in their carefully thought-out places. A few of the items have real value to him, like his grandfather’s ring-which he likes to wear on special occasions, his favourite dagger and a history book on Archangels his father handed down to him when he turned of suitable age. Most of the other keepsakes are from his travels or gifts.

A knock on the front door echoes through the quiet manor and he hears his father greeting the visitor. Standing silently, he hears Tobias calling out for him to come downstairs.

Dropping the small glass globe in his hand onto the soft covers of his bed, he reaches the bottom of the staircase to see two men standing in the doorway. One roughly his age, and the other older, presumably the boy’s father.

The elder one holds his hand out for Jordan to shake. When he does, the man’s hot palm comes to cover his, locking him into an awkwardly extended handshake. “Finally, I get to see you again, Jordan. Believe it or not, your father and I have known each other our whole lives. I am pleased to have you all here in London. We have certainly missed seeing the Carter’s in the city.”

The corners of Jordan’s mouth twitch as he waits for the man to continue. “I do apologise. I am Robert Bladesmith, leader of the London Ascendancy. I believe I forgot to introduce myself. And this is my son, Charles, whom you may remember from when you were younger.”

Jordan’s eyes settle on the boy standing beside Robert. He’s slightly shorter than Jordan, and smaller in shape. Raven black hair smoothly combed backwards on his head, standing out against his pale skin. A pair of dull olive-green eyes meet his own.

“Welcome.” Charles says in a rough voice, which is neither warm nor welcoming.

“Nice to meet you both again.” And Robert finally drops Jordan’s hand.

Tobias cuts in, and Jordan silently thanks his father. He doesn’t need to try to carry the awkward introductions anymore. “Did you come all the way from the Ascendancy just to greet us?” his father asks in a humorous tone.

Robert pats him on the shoulder with a grin. “I have to greet my right-hand-man when he returns after so many years away. Also, I thought I would extend an invitation for you and your family to attend our soiree tomorrow night held at our estate. I could have sent a runner, but I thought I ought to invite you in person.”

“I thought I recognised that voice,” Josephine appears in the corridor, wiping her hands on the apron covering her skirt, “lovely to see you again, Robert.” She pulls him into an embrace before turning to Charles and giving him a big enough smile, it makes her nosecrinkle. “The last time I saw you, Charles, you were only a small child, and now look at you.”

“Delightful to meet you both again. You have chosen a splendid home, and you must come to our gathering tomorrow night. It will be the first event of the winter season.” Charles’ voice is overly hospitable, sounding fake enough to make Jordan feel queasy.

“That sounds wonderful. We shall be there, Robert.” Josephine reassures him.

---