Music at the end that Azrael asks for.
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Stepping out of the car we rode together, I come around the car where Azrael is saying a thanks to Chad before we walk to the building that was specified for the meeting. It's near the Hill and I can turn my head to look for it in the evening, and the lights shining on it make it visible.
The meeting time was meant to be in the day, but was shifted to a different time. Some talk about how a few of the important members would not be able to return from Europe at that time, and needed the time shifted.
Entering the building, Azrael and I loosen the button of our oats and also the scarves we have wrapped around our necks. It's clear skies outside but chilly and requires a coat to be comfortable. Inside a building though, we're warmer and after walking through the lobby pull off our coats.
The building itself is large, and after walking some bit is the type that makes you forget for a moment that there's no outside world.
Walking more, we turn a corner and ahead the hallway we walked opens into a wide room with several doors going to other rooms. A few people are already around and chat with one another. Columns hold up the ceiling and above a chandelier shines and it's a wide, nice room.
I'm still heading forward to walk when Azrael slips his arm under one of mine, between my ribs and arm in question, and pulls me to the side, to the edge of the room away from everyone else. We walk behind one of the columns as Azrael pulls us there.
"Hogarth," says Azrael as he looks up at me, "I'm going to say this again before we enter into the situation, but you can still go home, and not be a part of this."
My mind is still stuck on the arm of Azrael's that is on mine, and brushes against my torso, even if my suit is in between. But the touch that's there I have to make sure doesn't distract me, and answer Azrael.
"I'm sure," I reply, "I'm here to be your assistant, and to make sure that you're alright. I can't do that if you're out of sight."
And there's more to why I want to be near you, and make sure you're alright.
Azrael looks at me for a moment, then nods.
"Alright then," says Azrael, "but when we go into one of those rooms to attend this meeting, don't talk unless I need you to. And don't eat or drink anything in there. And even if asked, don't give your name. These things might not be enough to protect you completely, but will help."
"I'll take note," I say, to which Azrael nods.
"Everyone," says a man, and stepping out from behind the column, I see the speaker, "the meeting is about to commence. Please step inside the meeting room."
Azrael and I along with the other people in the atrium we stand in walk over to the door open and indicated and go in. Inside is a table that I can't believe even exists as it's so large.
It's dark wood and a large circle where at least forty chairs are. Around those are other chairs, but at the table itself is the set number of forty. At the seats are name tags, and after walking a little we find the part where Azrael's name is on a tag. At it is one chair, ad behind it slightly is one. Azrael obviously takes the one in front and I sit in the one toward the back.
Other people shuffle into the room. Some are old, and some are younger than Azrael. The oldest seems to be around sixty, while the younger ones seem to be around my age. A person who just maybe graduated university.
But what is unifying is that they are all dressed in suits that could easily buy a car. A few women also arrive, and they also wear suits. But whatever detail is everywhere, I can tell there's an air of entitlement. They're involved in illegal activities, and you have to have some gall in order to be that kind of person.
After the procession sits down, which takes some time as some decide it's time to start a talking party in parts of the room, making people like Azrael and myself wait quietly. Other people around the room sit quietly, and it's maybe a half of the people who decide that talking about other topics is more important.
One of the more rowdy ones who is loud and takes the center of the annoying behavior looks maybe twenty-five, and he's busy getting rowdy with other people in the room. He has grey eyes, but compared to the dark wolf color of Azrael, this other man's eyes are more lighter. I can't help but maybe feel that his eyes are fake, like contact lens. I only derive that assumption as his hair is also dyed. Dark brown at the roots but a platinum blond the rest.
I can't help but detest him slightly as he seems like person who can only see his reflection. And I don't exactly commiserate with that.
But there are other people who aren't around him who sit similar to Azrael quiet around the circular table. I recognize Dean and Noah at another part of the table, and am just about to wave when Dean notices and shakes his head slightly, telling me not to. It must be that dangerous to do so.
Other people in the room include who I believe to be the oldest person, a man with snow-white hair and a beard, a man around Azrael's age with dirty blond hair who sits looking down at his knees, and a lady with soft features playing with a blue tourmaline ring on her finger. They also sit around quiet as well, among with the other people who are not joining the talking group.
"Ah!" says the rowdy guy with the dyed hair, "Well, now, let's talk about what we need to. The details of our next enterprise."
Walking almost triumphantly, it doesn't escape me that his eyes notice Azrael who is on the opposite end of the table where he walks to sit. He sits down, and I notice that two rather good-looking ladies in suits sit behind him. One has smeared lipstick, and I feel part of my lip turn down in disgust.
"So," speaks the man, "let's start the agenda for today."
"We're looking into the acquisition of both major political parties of this country," says another man who's slightly older then the first one but who seems just as faux.
"How is the plan for it going?" asks another faux mouth, this time a lady.
"We're almost there," says the second man, and another person agrees, "in the coming election, we've planted agents where we need to in order to accomplish our control of the Hill."
"And the ones that we wat to put in place are controlled by us?" asks another lady, and I can tell by the way that a few people have opened their mouths that they meant to ask that as well.
"We have," says a forth, "we even have put leashes on them so they don't step out of live."
If there's anything I can say about these people who I despise, it's that they know how to get what they want done. But that could easily translate as they only care about what they want, and nothing else.
"So we have the pieces in place," says the first one, the leader I suppose of this committee, "we have the auxiliary plans as well. All that's left, is the finances."
"That's right," says the second one.
"So," says the man and snaps his fingers, and one of the ladies behind him hands him a file with papers inside.
"Everyone has paid the amount we demanded of them," he says as he flips through the paper, singing happily, until he doesn't and notices a discrepancy.
He slowly sets the file down in front of him on the table, and his eyes stare straight ahead, directly and atrociously at Azrael.
"Except, you."
Many of the people around the table turn to look at Azrael. The ones who were talking all either look at Azrael as if he's prey or glare at him in anger. Others, like Dean and Noah, look scared for Azrael. I'd lie to say that I'm not either.
"So, Azrael," says the man across from us, "we need to payment from you. Mind paying it up?"
Azrael until now has been looking down at his hands in front of his, but looks up slowly.
"No."
The man who talked second glowers, but the first one doesn't seem that disturbed, still looking down with power supposedly held in his delusion at Azrael. The lady though is tapping on the table agitatedly, and a few other people look mad.
"I think it's time," says the first one who talked, "that we figure out exactly how loyal you are to this group."
The man gestures with his hand in a waving motion to the people assembled, and even smiles like a king. A king on bones of the past.
"Are you for our collective cause?" asks the man.
"No," answers Azrael without missing a beat.
Azrael's answer trips the man, and his magnanimous and annoying behavior begins to halt.
"What do you mean?" says the man his tone changing from the saccharine tone to a more, supposed-to-be deadly tone. Though it sounds really as if he's unhinged.
"I am not for the cause of this group. I do not want anything to do with this collective," says Azrael.
"You mean to say," says the second person who spoke scathingly, "that you're against us?"
"I don't care what happens to this group," says Azrael simply, "and I only care here to tell everyone present that for a long time I have been invited into the activities of this group, but request that all communications with myself cease."
"You can't just leave this group," says the lady, angrily saying so, "you're a part of it. You're by nature like us, so you can't get out of it."
"I may share a similar position in a firm, but I don't have anything similar to you kind. And I never indicated interest in this body to begin with. It was by your poor judgement that you assumed I would make a nice addition. You added me without telling me. I'm not an asset," says Azrael.
"Do you think," says the first one, catching everyone's attention, "that we're going to just let you walk out of here?"
"My answer depends," says Azrael, and shockingly he pulls out a revolver from his suit pocket, making everyone person in the room with the exception of himself widen their eyes, "on if you want to find out if there's an afterlife or not."
All the people who spoke are taken back by the shining metal weapon that Azrael holds in his hand. Relaxed now but resting on the table pointing directly across from us. It's obvious that nobody else in the room prepared for this as nobody else brandishes a weapon, and everyone pulls away from Azrael.
Finally, the first man speaks.
"You may have cut your ties with us, Azrael," he says, and I hate Azrael's name in his mouth, "but we'll get our revenge on you. You won't live long after tonight to enjoy this tiny victory."
"Well," says Azrael as he puts the gun back in his pocket, "we'll see. But now that I'm officially cut out from here, I'll be making my departure."
And with that, he stands, tapping my shoulder so that I come along as well. I can't help but notice that the first man notices me and his eyes linger on me as his mouth twitches into what looks like a grin, before reverting back to an angry scowl that he been on his face since Azrael beat him.
Leaving the room, Azrael and I don't talk as we quickly head out the way we came. Azrael pulls from his pocket his phone and dials Chad and also sets a hand on my back, walking even faster that we're almost running. I wish, weirdly I know, that we walked slower so that I could have Azrael's arm on me more.
But too bad, though it's also good, that we reach the doors and head out. Chad pulls up just in time, and soon we're pulling out from in front of the building and melting into traffic. We didn't even have time to pull on our coats because we were so anxious to get out.
"They," says Azrael with a smile after we put some distance between us and the place, "looked rather unhappy, to put it simply."
"They really did," I say in agreement, smiling also from relief that we're not close to those people.
"I'm so glad it's over," says Azrael, "I'll never have to see their entitled faces ever again."
"Do you think they'll do some thing to us?" I ask, remembering that that man swore revenge.
"I don't think he'll be able to do much," replies Azrael, "he has nothing on me."
Azrael smiles again, and pats my arm.
"It's because of you that I was able to do that, Hogarth. I'm everyday more thankful for you."
Before I can say anything more, Azrael asks Chad to play some music, before pulling out his phone and saving some kind of data file. But I can't focus on that as I'm too swept up by how amazing this person is. He's humble, and he's brave. And true to himself.
I've really fallen for somebody who is beyond my league. It'll take everything in me to earn him.