Deacon - Nicholas Bella Page 0,40
if it was, it was too faint for it to matter if Angus had somehow picked up on it. I had met with Thomas over a month prior and made certain that this night would be timed in accordance with my plan.
September 2nd, 1666, was a date that would not only turn the human world upside down, it was also a day that would change my pack forever. I was waiting in a tavern a mile away from Pudding Lane. It was in the very early hours of the morning, but I knew Angus would go by the bakery for his pudding after his shift on security. The bakery would be along his route to his home and he’d often made sure Thomas was awake to service him even if it were one in the morning.
The child, whom I had given one shilling to inform me of Angus’s arrival, came dashing into the tavern out of breath as he’d run the way to tell me. He came to my table, panting. I was happy the tavern was full of drunk and rowdy human patrons who’d paid the boy no mind. I leaned over so he could whisper into my ear the report.
“He is there, Sir,” the boy said.
“Are you sure it is him?”
He nodded. “He is as you described him, Sir,” the boy confirmed.
“Good.” I gave him another shilling and sent him on his way before taking my leave of the tavern. I had to keep to the shadows and I kept my face covered, which was easy enough to do in the filthy streets of London. Many of the wealthy covered their faces or kept perfumed kerchiefs with them to mask the smell. The streets were practically flowing with sewage, human and animal. It was no wonder the plague had set upon us. Of course, wolves paid it no mind as the disease couldn’t affect us. Though I was used to life in London, I still avoided the puddles. As a wolf, my sense of smell was highly acute and I’d rather avoid smelling like shit if I could.
By the time I made it to the bakery on Pudding Lane, I saw Angus slumped against the alley wall, paralyzed by the wolfsbane that had been cooked into his pudding. Job well done, Thomas. For so long, I’d waited for this very moment. It seemed almost like a dream, but I knew it was reality. My body was humming with anticipation of what I was about to do. My pulse quickened with each step I took closer to my enemy. I smiled as I stood over to Angus, looking down at his helpless form. I knew that he must be suffering a great deal as the wolfsbane was not only poisonous, but painful to ingest. His body shivered in his agony and as he looked up at me, eyes watering and pleading for help… He never looked so vulnerable and weak. He deserved to feel every bit of pain, I had no sympathy for him. I was sure it couldn’t compare to the pain and torture he’d put my mother through.
“My, Angus, what has happened?” I asked, feigning concern.
His mouth parted just a little, but nothing came out.
I laughed as I removed a silver blade from my sheath. I showed it to him, letting the silver blade shine in the light of the moon. The look in his eyes turned from fear to anger, his jaw tightening as his lips snarled.
“Ahhh, yes, retribution is upon you and is long overdue.”
He managed to growl, but nothing else. A pathetic attempt to warn me off. It would not work.
“For my mother’s honor, which you stole from her the night you and your friends ravaged her body. And for the friendship you stole from me by turning Elias against me. But don’t worry, Angus, Winston will be waiting for you in hell and one day, Graham and Bernard will join you both.”
With the mention of Winston’s name, I saw recognition in Angus’ eyes as they widened.
“Oh yes, I killed Winston, stabbed him in his back with a silver dagger, much like this one. Only with you, I will look you in the eyes as I take your life.” I spit in his face, my saliva landing right between his eyes before I slammed the silver blade deeply into his chest. I watched his eyes buck, his mouth opening as if he wanted to scream, but his vocal cords were too paralyzed to form