Novel Name : House Of Legions (The Angel Descendants book 1)

House Of Legions (The Angel Descendants book 1) Chapter 5 (Clare)

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This is the end, she cringed, I’m going to die and my mother wouldn’t even know where to find the

body.

His mouth was moving, but she caught only the last part of what he said, “…it’s a sin to break into a

church at the Tempters hour.”

Clare gave the guy a scattering look who she presumed was Alonso by the sound of his voice, “I have

no idea of what you said, put me down.”

She skimmed her eyes down his body. The long-sleeved Henley was a shade lighter than the brown

leather pants straining his muscular thighs. Spotting the heavy army boots, that looked as if they had

been through a bloody carnival of dead bodies was very intimidating. Now focused back on his face,

she gulped at the serious angry gaze that marred his features. Whoever said looks can be deceiving

had certainly got the wrong memo. Alonso's spoke volumes of a guy with lots of darkness around him

and it scared her, shitless.

Kicking her legs out, she realized how tall he was. Clare always thought she was tall herself but nothing

compared to Alonso the giant. He made her height seem like an adolescents. As if that wasn’t bad

enough, he shouted, “How in the realms name did you even get in. It’s after midnight.” He looked at his

watch to stress his point, and the movement made her flinch because he still kept a tight grip on her

waist with one hand, “I stand corrected, it’s one in the morning. You know, now I’ll have to call the cops.

They’ll probably arrest you for trespassing on holy grounds or, if you lucky, which is highly unlikely, call

your mother.”

Clare didn’t want to seem scared but her face gave her away when she grimaced at the mention of her

mother. She struggled in his hold but only made it worse, the man didn’t let her go. Instead he put both

hands on either side of her waist and held her mid-air with his arms stretched out; similar to how one

would hold a wailing baby. Which in her case wasn’t far off as she yelled, “Get your hands off me, you

freak, I came through the door just like YOU.”

Whatever he saw in her face as she frowned worked because the giant bastard let her go like she was

made of fire. Which in his mind she probably was after listening to the crap they spewed. Finally, her

feet touched the ground, but she knew this wasn’t over.

It didn't take long before she was manhandled, yet again, when another guy grabbed her left arm and

tugged with a firm grip that was close to painful. She was pulled up towards the end of the aisle.

“Do your parents know where you are?” His voice strained, “What if you got raped or mugged, and

eavesdropping on other's conversations is rude, what were you thinking?” He asked, more like

demanded through clenched teeth, barely holding in his anger.

His name was Nathan, the guy with the strong voice that now sounded extremely angry, great, just

great.

This guy had a light olive tan from standing in the sun for long periods. His hand that pulled her was

darker from driving than his neck proving her theory further.

His muscular built was more pronounced than Alonso by the splay of broad shoulders, and the veins

visible on his forearms. Judging by his height which put him at least four inches shorter than Alonso,

hopefully, he was the more saner one. Clare was going with her assessment knowing full well it was

bullshit. But if she could convince her teacher lime green is yellow, she could make herself believe her

theory that a shorter guy equalled a saner one. After all she was technically a genius. One in hiding, as

she always remembered to write a few incorrect answers in her papers. She was already considered a

freak and a ‘nasty insensitive bitch’ she didn't need another reason for the female population to despise

her.

When Clare looked into Nathan’s eyes to say something, the gravity left her as her knees buckled at

his reflection. Luckily he held her steady, she was too transfixed on his eyes to worry about falling.

They were Green, dark green, the same as hers, ‘devilish’ she thought. That was what they called it at

school, Devils eyes.

Never had she seen another person with eyes like hers, that was dark yet so visible. Her friend once

said it was freakishly unreal. Her mind raced with possibilities at him being her relative, he looked

familiar, yet not so much. The hairstyle of shaven off sides and long black hair kept in the middle, was

too modern to ring any bells.

But those eyes, though harsher than hers, colder, they were still hers.

Capturing the knowledge from her brain of anything familiar was like trying to solve a puzzle without the

border pieces, pointless. Without the foundation you couldn't do anything, you were just simply stuck.

And as memory went, it was harder to know what you sought if you couldn’t remember, and even more

to capture it, when you didn’t even know what it is you were searching for.

His jaw clenched as she openly stared, rude as it might be Clare couldn't look away even if she wanted

to. And maybe she was acting a little crazy, but he must see it, he couldn’t be blind. Surly a relative of

hers would have some brains.

“It’s rude to stare just take a picture, it’s more permanent, post it,” he suggested with a careless shrug,

“Instagram is quite popular these days.”

She hesitated and then blurted out, “Dude, you seriously can't be that dumb.” When he quirked his

brow, something her mother did, she huffed in annoyance, “We have the exact same eyes, come on.”

When she saw the blank stare he gave her, she could tell he wasn't going to say a thing, so she

shrieked, “I don't want your picture. It is obvious that you are no relative of mine. When I first heard

you, I got excited for a second thinking you sounded so educated, and then again when I saw your

eyes, but then just as quickly I realized you lack an awful lot. Mostly that which includes intellect and

vision, so just in case you lack hearing read my lips slowly, LET. ME. GO.”

A woman's voice shouted from the altar, “This girl is wasting our time, we have a job to do, we can deal

with her la…ter…” The female voice trailed off, her words lost in her view of Clare.

These people were really starting to freak the be-Jesus out of her, in the sense that they somehow

knew her. She was no fool, she knew when people had recognition in their eyes, and Nathan had it

written all over his almost familiar face.

With a gentle push, he let go of her arm. Squeezing his eyes shut he grunted at her, “Leave now and

go straight back.” A daring warning in his voice, he snarled, “No more wandering places, if I see you

around at night, alone, I will beat your ass, understood.” She narrowed her eyes, trying to get a read on

his mood. There was no smirk on his face or sign of joking, he was serious and definitely the one to be

wary of among the three.

Nobody had ever spoken to her like that before, and if they did, she never remembered it.

Fear aside, she squared her shoulders and stared at him smack in the face, “I was leaving anyway.”

Clare then gave the other two pointed looks, snapping her fingers in the air, “Clearly you all need to get

your heads examined. And news flash, giant guy,” She arched her brow at Alonso, “The church is a

place of peace, not weapons dumb ass.”

“Ooh someone’s getting grumpy,” he mocked, “You shouldn’t name call guys with daggers.”

She watched as Alonso put his hand on the butt of the dagger which fitted into the side of his pants.

Turning, her boots skidded as she stormed down the aisle of the church. She refused a backward

glance as the sound of their laughter echoed through the church walls.

Welcoming the icy breeze creeping through her cotton t-shirt as she opened the door and barged out

not slowing down until she was out the main gate.

A sudden relief washed over her, as she cut the corner from the church. She was glad to be alive. But

she couldn’t rattle the sense that something wasn’t quite right with those people she’d met. They all

wore similar clothes, brown leather material, and light Henley t-shirts, which looked extremely soft,

except the girl, wore high heels, which is Clare’s opinion, totally unnecessary. If they weren’t so clearly

crazy and she didn’t know better, the trio could’ve easily passed as some special force team. She

highly doubted that, clearly they lack the brains and were all Braun.

As the minutes went by, the only thing on her mind as she walked was the bone-deep anger and the

sound of their voices laughing at her. Her body was riled up, she couldn’t wait to get back to the

apartment and get some sleep. Clare picked up her pace as the sudden urgency to get home filled her

with a shot of adrenaline. Clare always thought better on a clear head.

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