by Tillie Cole
And now he was told there had been someone outside this hell all along? A relative that could have spared him and Michael from this pain?
“How?” Gabriel asked, through his clenched teeth.
“Jack Murphy is—was—your maternal grandfather.” Gabriel’s confusion and ire didn’t lift any; it only deepened. Heat burst in his chest and spread like fire through his body. His mother never spoke of a father. Granted, Gabriel was only six when his mother died, but he’d thought she’d had no family but for him and Michael. Their father had up and left not long after Michael was born. Gabriel didn’t remember him. As far as Gabriel understood, his mother hadn’t known her father either. Was raised by a single mother who died before Gabriel was born. They’d been alone. And when he and Michael had been found, starving and cold, their mother’s rotting body still lying in her bed with her two children hugging her wasting flesh, there had been no fucking talk of a grandfather! Someone who should have taken them in and shielded them from that sight.
Miller seemed to be waiting for Gabriel to speak. But Gabriel couldn’t. He was afraid of what he might say or do if he let the rage boiling inside free. At that moment he didn’t care about some grandfather who had abandoned them. He didn’t give a fuck about what he might have left him. His place was back with his brothers in Purgatory. Not right here, right now.
“Your grandfather was a complicated man,” Mr. Miller explained, clearly seeing Gabriel’s rising displeasure. He shifted nervously on his seat. “Joseph, your grandfather was a wealthy man. A very wealthy man. His business was handed over to the board, but his money and his assets are all now yours.” Gabriel didn’t really hear the news. His mind wandered to his brothers and who would be taken today. What the Brethren would do to them, whether the priests would punish them for Gabriel’s absence.
“Today you’re eighteen,” Miller said. Gabriel blinked, and his attention came back to the lawyer. “I’m sorry to have to tell you that your grandfather died a month ago. But it was in his will that on your eighteenth birthday you were to be found and given your inheritance.”
Gabriel’s hands curled into fists under the table. He was shaking. He was shaking so badly that, for once, he felt like he understood to a small extent what his brothers felt every single minute of their lives. The need to unleash the fire inside and damn the consequences. His eyes closed, and he tried to breathe. The bastard who should have saved them was now dead. But had left Gabriel everything. What was money? What were material goods when one’s body and mind had been raped and sullied and irreparably damaged?
“We can leave immediately. I have documents you must sign, and then I can show you your new home.” Gabriel simply glared. He wanted Gabriel to leave? To swan off into the life of a rich man when his place was here, banded to his brothers? “Do you understand, son? Your grandfather was worth billions. Billions that are now yours. You’re eighteen. You would have been released from Holy Innocents today. You now have somewhere to go.”
“I don’t care for his money,” Gabriel hissed, his voice sounding foreign to his own ears.
Miller blinked, then looked around the room. His eyebrows seemed to pull down in dislike. “Son, listen. I can see you’re pissed. But there’s more to this than I can tell you here.” Miller leaned closer, dropping his voice. “Think of what you could do with all that money. You could help people if you didn’t want it yourself. You can use it however you want.” Miller’s hands clasped together. “Your world has just been opened up in ways you can’t imagine. I know Holy Innocents seems like the entire world right now, but it’s not. Everything is possible when you’re this rich.”
For the first time since Miller sat down, Gabriel’s anger dropped, and a slither of light sparked in his chest. He had been going to pledge himself to the Brethren today, all so he could be close to his brothers. He’d reasoned that if he was close to the priests, he could try to destroy them from within. But if he now had money . . . maybe he could get them out another way. He could give them a home, protect them. He met Miller’s eyes and tried to find the answers he sought. Money could buy him resources, information . . . influence and power. He wasn’t sure if he could garner power enough to rival the might of the Catholic Church, but he could try. He would find a way.
Gabriel was torn, pulled in the direction of two different paths. He tried to think, racking his brain and his heart to find the right answer. But he didn’t have long to decide. Father Quinn came back into the room, his posture rigid and his eyes lit with irritation . . . and, Gabriel realized, worry. Father Quinn was scared. “Is everything okay?”
Seeing the high priest so rattled made Gabriel’s decision easy for him. In all the years under his harsh rule, Gabriel had never seen the priest shaken, not even a little apprehensive. But now, with the priest’s eyes darting between Gabriel and Miller, Gabriel knew he had found a weakness. None of the taken children were ever released without pledging to the Brethren first. But Gabriel could be. He could be the chink in their impenetrable armor. “Okay,” Gabriel said to Mr. Miller. “Let’s go.”
Father Quinn’s gaze snapped to Gabriel. “And where are you going?” Father Quinn did well to sound concerned for Gabriel. But Gabriel heard the panic in his tone.
“With me,” Mr. Miller said, getting to his feet. “Joseph is eighteen and has been left an estate in an inheritance.” Mr. Miller turned to Gabriel. “I’ll wait while you collect your things.”
“I have no things.” As Gabriel stared down the high priest, he thought, Nothing but a drive and purpose to free my brothers and bring your sect down.
Mr. Miller took pause at that, but then nodded. “Then there’s a car waiting out front.”
Gabriel followed Mr. Miller out of the office. He stopped when Father Quinn held out his hand. “It’s been a pleasure, son,” Father Quinn said through tight lips. Gabriel hesitated, years of conditioning to fear this man taking their hold. But, with a deep breath, he held out his hand and wrapped it around Father Quinn’s. The priest squeezed Gabriel’s hand in warning. Gabriel understood the message. Don’t say a thing.
“You too, Father,” he said and pulled back his arm. “It’s been a real pleasure.” He pulled back his hand, hating himself for the way his heart quickened at his defiance. Goosebumps broke out along Gabriel’s spine as he walked along the halls of Holy Innocents—once a sanctuary, now nothing but a prison. His feet faltered as he came to the main doors. He paused and looked up at the engraved wood. Not a “B” in sight. Feeling eyes on his back, Gabriel turned. Fathers Quinn, McCarthy, and Brady were watching him. A trinity of torture. Nobody left the Brethren alive. Gabriel knew they wouldn’t let this go. They had to protect their secret. They couldn’t let him go.
“Joseph?” Mr. Miller asked, pulling Gabriel’s attention.
Gabriel stepped over the threshold and into the fresh air. He winced at the daylight but hid his discomfort from Mr. Miller. As he passed the lawyer, he said, “It’s Gabriel. I go by Gabriel now.”
If Mr. Miller had questions, he didn’t ask them. “Then call me Miller. Mr. Miller makes me sound too much like my father.”
A driver waited behind the wheel of a black Bentley. Gabriel climbed in, and Miller sat beside him. Gabriel kept his face straight forward as the car pulled out onto the country road. Every move was robotic, fueled by the promise of being able to do something to help his brothers. He had no idea what. Gabriel was sheltered and knew nothing of the world. But he was a quick study, and he vowed to free them. And despite the strong faith he still held onto, belief in good and the pure intention of mankind, he would travel roads of darkness freely to get what he wanted. He would gladly sacrifice his soul to save those of his brothers.
“I got your documents from the home before you arrived,” Miller said, putting a folder into his briefcase. “We’ll go to my office first, sign the papers, then we’ll take you to your home.” Miller sighed at Gabriel’s lack of interaction, then asked, “Don’t you have any questions, Gabriel?
About your grandfather? Your inheritance? This must be a lot for you.” Miller’s face shifted from frustrated to sympathetic. “Your start in life was tragic, Gabriel. Anger toward your grandfather would be understandable right now.”
“I have nothing to say.” Gabriel kept his eyes straight forward. His chest tightened when he thought of Father Quinn’s face and how pissed he had been at losing Gabriel. Gabriel dreaded what awaited the Fallen back in the dorm. The vengeance Father Quinn would enact on them in place of him.
Gabriel now had money, apparently. With money came connections. He had to hold on to that. “Did you know him well?” Gabriel finally asked.
“Your grandfather?” Miller asked. Gabriel nodded. Miller shifted on his seat. Gabriel caught the subtle uneasy movement. He wondered why that question brought with it discomfort.
“Very well. He was my closest friend.” No matter how plagued with worry Gabriel was, he couldn’t ignore another person’s pain. Turning to Miller, he said, “I’m sorry for your loss.” Miller’s face relaxed.
“Yours too,” Miller replied.
“I didn’t know him.” Gabriel looked out of the window at the treelined roads. Everything was so green. He was only used to black and gray and the ancient marked wood of the torture devices. Gabriel didn’t want to ask. He was pissed at his grandfather, but in his weakness he found himself saying, “Why didn’t he come for us sooner?”
“Us?”
Gabriel looked to Miller. “Yeah. Me and my brother. Us.”
Miller’s eyebrows drew down. “We have no record of a brother. We only managed to get your name because your grandfather found it before Holy Innocents’ system crash a few years ago. All information on the inhabitants in the home and school were lost for quite some time. When the system was fixed, all of the names and backgrounds of the children had to be re-entered by hand. The priests assured the government that the records were now up to date and complete.”
That’s how they did it, Gabriel thought. That’s how they wiped boys off the records. Why no one ever came looking for those taken to Purgatory. And who would? They were all orphans. The unloved. No one cared about any of them.
“I have a brother,” Gabriel repeated. “I have a brother, younger than me. And he is still in there.”
Miller was flustered with confusion. “You’re eighteen. We can work on getting your brother out and into your care.” The pressure in Gabriel’s chest lessened some at that. But it wasn’t just about Michael anymore.
“Brothers.”
“What?”
“Brothers,” Gabriel said again.
Miller frowned. “Brothers?” Gabriel could hear the confusion deepening in Miller’s voice. “You only mentioned one. How many brothers do you have?”
“Six,” Gabriel said and watched the surprise light up Miller’s face. “I have six brothers.” Gabriel exhaled, picturing Bara, Uriel, Sela, Diel, Raphael, and Michael in his head. “And we need to get them out soon. I have no time to waste in that regard.” Coldness infused his veins. “It’s the only reason I’m here. I couldn’t care less about my grandfather and his riches. But if the money helps me get my brothers out, I’ll use it.”
Miller stayed quiet the rest of the ride. Gabriel had no idea what he was thinking. He probably thought Gabriel insane.
Maybe after all his years in Purgatory he was. He knew he wasn’t the boy who’d entered through the sunken staircase and metal door. There was a darkness lurking in him now too. He felt it growing day by day. He didn’t know if it would one day consume him.
Today was not the day to dwell on that.
When the signing of the documents was done, they took the journey to Gabriel’s new home, out of Boston and into the Massachusetts countryside. Miles of nothingness led to a set of tall iron gates. They opened automatically. Gabriel’s eyes were wide as he took in the vast estate.
“It has a no-fly zone.” Miller gestured to the rolling manicured fields that stretched for miles. “Your grandfather was a very particular man. He wanted things a certain way. This address is not on any public record, and, for a small fortune, your grandfather ensured it is government protected. No one knows this manor exists outside of us and the staff. It is as off the grid as any secret military base.”
“Staff?” Gabriel questioned plainly, ignoring the rest.
Miller nodded. “Only a few. Just enough to help keep an estate of this size running. Staff who are discreet, ignore what they must, and live on the grounds in their own homes as a reward for their silence. And Winston, your driver, of course. All staff have been vetted and have signed non-disclosure agreements. But they were loyal to your grandfather for years, some decades, and loved him, as he did them. They were as much his family as he would allow. And they will be yours too if you let them.”
Gabriel wondered how they would react to the Fallen when they moved to the house. How they would take to six teenagers who were anything but normal. Because there was no doubt in Gabriel’s mind that they would come here with him. Each and every one would have a place here. Each one with a violent and disturbing obsession. How would he explain them to his grandfather’s staff? Michael with his blood-letting? Diel with his body in chains?
The car came to a stop. Gabriel looked up at the stone steps that led to a grand, ornate entrance. He had never once left the orphanage, but he had seen pictures of stately homes in Ireland in Father Quinn’s study. This manor . . . it was comparable to the best he had ever seen. The main doors opened, and three members of staff, three women and one man, dressed in black-and-white uniforms, made a line along the graveled path on top of the stairs. Gabriel viewed them with distant interest. But reality began to seep into his brain. This was his. All of this belonged to Gabriel. He now had more money than he could ever want. Gabriel, despite everything, was a man of God. He made himself believe that this was all just some big test. That God would reward him later for his soul’s sacrifice now. Money meant nothing to him. But he would use it to save his brothers. He would sin and indulge enough to see them freed.
The man in the black suit, white shirt, and black bow tie opened the Bentley’s door. “Master Kelly,” he said as Gabriel stepped out of the car. “Welcome home.”
“Thank you,” Gabriel said and began his journey up the stairs. The wind chilled him as he walked toward the sprawling mansion. It was so big it stretched as far as the eye could see. Gray stone, with climbing green ivy making the mansion look alive. The many windows were decorated with lead diamond patterns on the panes. It was as big as Holy Innocents. Maybe even bigger.
“Master Kelly,” each of the staff greeted him as he walked past. Gabriel nodded his head and shook their hands. The man who had helped him from the car opened the main doors.
“Patrick,” Miller said, referring to the man. “Your butler.”
Smiling, Gabriel walked over the threshold and into the foyer of the home. Gabriel had only seen grandeur of this scale in the Catholic churches around Boston. In the cathedrals.
Miller and Patrick proceeded to give Gabriel a tour of the home. Patrick left them alone to prepare supper as Miller led Gabriel to the study. Gabriel stood in the doorway of the impressive room, all cherry wood furniture and green carpets and walls. Behind the desk was a large picture of Christ on the cross. Gabriel swallowed. Around Jesus were the seven archangels. The seven archangels holding swords, fending off demons, their white wings stretched wide.
A cold chill stabbed Gabriel’s heart.
“Gabriel?”
“Why did he leave us in that fucking place?” Gabriel asked crudely, never taking his eyes off the painting. “Why didn’t he take us into his home? Why leave us without family? Without protection?” Gabriel fought to control the anger in his voice.
Miller was quiet. When Gabriel turned around, Miller looked conflicted. “Gabriel . . . your grandfather wasn’t exactly normal.” Gabriel frowned in confusion. “When he discovered he had a child, your mother, he knew he could never be in her life. Your
mother was conceived as a result of a one-night stand. She believed her father didn’t want her. But that wasn’t true. He did. But he battled . . . personal demons.” The hairs on Gabriel’s neck stood on end. He knew all about that. “With him, she would have been in danger. So he stayed out of her life. It wasn’t until he was dying that he looked for her.” Miller’s face grew sympathetic. “He found that she had died. It tore him apart. Then he discovered you. By the time we had located you at Holy Innocents, he had only days left. But he wanted you to have this estate. He wanted you to have it all.”
“Why was he dangerous?” Gabriel asked. Stirrings of genuine interest began to clear his mind.
“You’re young, Gabriel. There are things in life you have not been exposed to, dark things. It’s better to let sleeping dogs lie. You are now a rich man, a protected one; your grandfather made sure of that. You can live a good life.”
Gabriel laughed at Miller’s words. His laughter quickly fell, as did any trace of humor. “Believe me, Mr. Miller. I understand the darker side of life just fine.” Gabriel didn’t give Miller a chance to respond. “I’m going to bed,” Gabriel said. “Please tell Patrick I’m not hungry.” Gabriel pushed past Miller and climbed the stairs to his room, the one Patrick had shown him on the tour. He locked the door and looked around the huge suite. A large four-poster bed sat in the center of the room. The mattress looked too comfortable. Gabriel wasn’t used to comfort.
Gabriel made his way to the bathroom and turned on the shower, keeping the temperature on its coldest setting. He stripped off his clothes and stepped under the spray. His shoulder ached from its recent dislocation. Cuts stung his skin from where Father Quinn had sliced him with a knife; scars marked where he’d been whipped as Father Quinn exorcised the demons from his soul.
