A Temptation of Angels Read Free Page B

andright, trying to get her bearings. The long descent from the house and the winding journey through the tunnel had been disorienting, but one look at the elaborately lettered sign quickly clarified the matter.
    Claridge Hotel.
    The windows and door beneath the sign were familiar and lit from the inside. It gave her an odd sort of comfort. It could not be a coincidence that her escape route led to the hotel where she so often accompanied Father to high tea. It was some kind of message, some kind of sign, and this one led her to thoughts of others.
    Leaning against the brick wall of the hotel, she opened the valise. She felt past the clothing and other personal items her mother had packed until her hand closed around the crumpled piece of paper. The ink was already faded, and she slanted the paper toward the light spilling from the hotel windows, trying to make out her mother’s script.
    It was a name. Two names, to be exact, and an address.
    Darius and Griffin Channing. 425 Oxford.
    She knew the streets surrounding Claridge’s well. She and Father had often strolled the neighborhood after tea. Still, it was a different matter entirely to walk alone and unaccompaniedin the dark of night. She hurried through the streets as fast as her bare feet would allow.
    The gas lamps lit her way, smoke swirling eerily near the flames as it had before the light of the pendant. She felt a moment’s self-consciousness as the cold seeped through the fabric of her nightdress, but her soot and dirt-smudged arms were oddly comforting. With any luck, she would pass for a common street urchin with nothing to steal. Nothing to lose.
    Of course, that was now truer than she was prepared to admit.
    In any case, the streets were empty, save an occasional drunkard, and she made her way carefully over the wet cobblestones until she came to the right address. Her gaze traveled upward, taking in the imposing structure. It rose into the night sky, carved marble gargoyles and unnameable beasts flashing pale in the dark above her, as light flickered from behind the curtained windows. She stood for a moment, gathering her wits. Who were Darius and Griffin Channing? And why would Mother and Father send her to strangers for shelter? The questions found no answers. She was alone, and if ever anyone had been without answers, it was her. It was not courage but desperation that finally led her up the steps leading to the great front door.
    There was simply nowhere else to go.
    She had just reached the top of the steps and was lifting her hand to knock when the door opened. A young man about her age stood in the light of the porch lamp, blinking as if he was surprised to find her there, despite the fact that he had opened the door without prompting. Even in the faint light, she could see the flecks of yellow in his green eyes.
    “G-good evening. I’m looking for…” She made a show of glancing down at the paper, just so he would know someone had sent her. “Darius and Griffin Channing.”
    Something moved behind his eyes. She thought it was, perhaps, an understanding of the situation in which she found herself. A situation even she didn’t fully comprehend.
    “You’re younger than I imagined,” he said.
    Helen didn’t know how to respond. The very idea that he had imagined her of any age was so beyond her grasp that she didn’t even attempt to inquire about the particulars.
    “I’m Griffin.” He stepped back from the doorway. “You must be cold. Please come in.”
    She hesitated for a moment. It was more than unseemly to enter a gentleman’s home in the dark of night. Even she, with her limited social experience, was aware of such rules.Yet, Mother and Father had sent her here. And this was no ordinary night.
    She stepped into the house. “I don’t know who you are or why my parents sent me to you, but I need your help. They’re in great danger. We must—”
    “You can’t go back,” the man interrupted. “I’m sorry, but it’s