“This is a real shame, Sasha,” Julian said calmly, running his hand gently down the side of her face. He did his best to make sure she could hear the pity in his voice...even if it wasn't sincere. He was enjoying seeing her pay for her crimes against him. “But as you can see, decisions sometimes have consequences, and some consequences for bad choices can be...how should I put this?” He picked up a crushed stone. “Severe. Very severe.”
Sasha tried to open her bloody, trembling mouth to speak but couldn't form words. She didn't have enough strength for that. She probably didn't have much time left either. Julian tried to enjoy the sight while he still could. She had obviously harbored disdain for him for a long time. It was satisfying knowing how much she must hate losing to him. He was more than happy to be the last thing she would ever see.
“You...” she managed, her voice cracking and barely louder than a whisper. “You...are going...you are going to...to lose...”
Her lips curled into a red smile.
What did she have to smile about? She was trapped. She was dying. Her nonsensical glee was infuriating. Julian was tempted to take the stray stone in his hand and cave her head in with it. She wouldn't be smiling then.
Sasha started choking on her own blood, and Julian's anger dampened. There was no need to bash her skull. She could smile all she wanted, but she was really suffering. Why put a traitor like her out of her misery? She didn't deserve mercy like that.
“Purdue isn't going to beat us. How would he do that? Didn't you see what just happened? He couldn't. He ran away. Scurried off like the little rodent he is!”
Julian leaned in even closer.
“You're right back to where you started,” Julian said, waving his hand to indicate the rocks around her body. “Trapped. Stuck. I should have left you in that temple when we first met. I should have left you there to rot instead of breaking you free. Then...well...things would have turned out a lot differently, wouldn't they? Not for you, no, you die either way, but for me...things would be much better off, would they not?”
Sasha choked on some more of her insides.
Julian pulled a handkerchief from his suit jacket and started wiping Sasha's mouth, like she was dirt that needed to be scrubbed away. By the look on her face, she hated every second of him touching her face. He talked down to her like she was an ignorant child who had just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
“You really think David Purdue is going to win? You honestly believe that? That's sad. Tell me, Sasha, when did you jump on that particular bandwagon, hm? Why support Mr. Purdue? From what I recall, you were hardly a fan of his.”
Sasha had tears welling in her eyes as Julian wiped off some more blood on her face.
“He...he is better than...than you.”
That red smile returned, and Julian snapped. He was tired of the stubbornness of those who were undeniably inferior. All of these bugs thinking they were bigger than him, thinking they had any right to fight back under his boot. They wouldn't make a fool of him any longer. And David Purdue certainly wasn't better than that. He'd more than proven that.
Julian took the rock in his hand and brought it down on his former subordinate's face. He swung over and over until that obnoxious dying smirk of hers was gone for good. She fell silent and became nothing more than a lifeless corpse buried under the old stones. She'd stay there until she was nothing more than bones.
Still, he hated that smile that she'd had on her face. He couldn't shake the feeling that Sasha's last thoughts were hopeful ones, despite his making sure that he was the last thing she ever saw. He wanted her to know that she lost, and that Purdue was going to lose.
Julian stood there for a few minutes, wiping his hands off.
As much as he hated to admit, a small part of him felt slightly defeated.
Elijah Dane watched Julian Corvus return to the facility alone. The group of men that he had taken with him was nowhere to be found. None of the initial squad of enforcers were with him either; not the Moore brothers, or Torsten, or even Clive stomping along beside him. They were all absent.
Even worse, Julian wasn't carrying any of the weapons that Elijah had loaned out to the assassins from the deep vault. Elijah had been assured that those artifacts would be returned to him in pristine condition. He would have accepted getting them back, even if they were somewhat damaged. That would have been much better than not getting them back at all. He wanted to make a scene and demand to know what had happened, but the expression on Julian's face kept him from doing anything rash and reacting on emotions.
Julian looked like a volcano that was about to erupt, and Elijah knew better than to try and confront him when he looked like that. Whatever had happened on his mission, it hadn't gone well. He looked a long way from pleased. The fact he wasn't carrying David Purdue's head in his hands said a lot about what might have gone down.
Elijah may have been able to restrain himself from asking Julian questions at a bad time, but Galen did not have the same filter he did. That Irishman said whatever came to mind and usually said it as obnoxiously as possible. And this time was no different.
“So how did it go?” Galen called from down the hall with a laugh. He started approaching Julian. “You tell Davy goodbye for me before you put him down for good? Better yet, you carve my name into his body when you were done at least? Bury him with a copy of my book? Something for him to remember me by?”
Julian didn't say a word to him as he passed. He never even looked in his direction. He just stared forward, and that gray gaze of his seemed even colder than ever. Galen stood, flabbergasted as his boss passed by him without a word, without even acknowledging his existence. It was like he wasn't even there at all, an invisible man with silent questions—everything that Galen hated. He loved the spotlight, and he loved to be heard. His face grew red with embarrassment and he turned around.
“Oi!”
Elijah, watching from across the hall, was even taken aback by Galen shouting for Julian's attention. Galen, while active and having been loyal so far, was still a new recruit compared to most people in the Order of the Black Sun. He had spent much of his time bolstering his own ego and trying to act like he was a bigger player than he was. But this...this was an entirely new level of entitlement. It was unfathomable that he thought he could speak to the order's leader like that.
Julian stopped his walk but didn't turn around. Whatever his facial expression was on the other side of his head, it couldn't have been pleasant. If he was just coming off of a major defeat, like it seemed that he was, then this wasn't the time to upset him. All Galen was doing was making the matter worse; trying to light a fuse that was already close to causing a detonation.
If that weren't bad enough, Galen hobbled after Julian, poking him on the back with his cane. “You better bloody answer me, I don't give a shit who you are--”
Julian suddenly swung his body around and snatched the cane from Galen's hand. Julian proceeded to swing the waking stick right into Galen's bad leg, making the Irishman let out a scream before collapsing onto his back, holding his leg in agony.
Other members from the order had come out into the hall to see what the cause of all of the commotion was. There was a mix of concern, but Elijah saw plenty of faces that looked very validated by what was happening to Galen. He'd pissed off a lot of people in his short time as a member, and even Elijah felt a prickle of satisfaction seeing him be reminded that he wasn't nearly as tough as he pretended to be.
Julian towered over Galen, looming above where he lay. He prodded at his stomach with the cane and glared down at him. “Do not ever presume that you can speak to me like that ever again. You are here because I have allowed you to be here. You are here by my will and by no deeds of your own. And let's not forget you were recruited by Sasha, a traitor. You're lucky I don't execute you and send you to Hell to join her.”
Galen squirmed on the ground. He stared up at the Black Sun leader with terror and looked like he was trying to slink
away. Elijah knew this would happen. Julian could keep calm and composed during so many intense situations, but he did have a limit, and what lurked beyond that limit was volatile and explosive. It wasn't something that most people would ever want to see...and this was only a glimpse of that demon that dwelled inside of Julian.
“The next time you speak out of turn to me again, will be the last time you speak,” Julian hissed. He jabbed the cane against Galen's gut again, knocking the wind out of him, for good measure. “Do we understand each other?”
“Y-ye-yes. I understand.”
It was a rare sight to see Galen looking like the frail little worm that he really was. All of his bravado was gone, and he looked nothing like the bold adventurer that he was described as in his autobiography. He wasn't some globetrotting hero that never backed down from a fight. He was a petty fool who let his ambitions warp his sense of reality.
“Good,” Julian said tightly, dropping the cane down on Galen. “Do not forget it.”
Julian turned away and noticed all of the curious eyes looking in his direction from the shadows. The rest of his subordinates knew better than to try and interfere or even try and ask him anymore questions.
“David Purdue still lives,” Julian announced, and his tone was filled with nothing but pure poisonous malice. “Many of our fellow members were killed in the attempt. All of our current assignments are on hold until this matter is permanently resolved. Bring back everyone who is out in the field, no matter where they are in the world. We are going to end this. Now.”
There were uneasy nods as some members went back to their business or got to work contacting anyone else. The Order of the Black Sun apparently needed everyone they had for this coming conflict with Purdue. He hadn't just survived his house burning down. Now he'd made it through assassin attempts from the order's top killers, somehow overcome the curse of the Scarlet Sword, and even endured another encounter with Julian. None of them had been able to kill him.
It took quite a lot to impress Elijah, but even he had to admit that David Purdue was a monumental survivalist. At this point, he wouldn't have been surprised if the man could find his way out of a nuclear bomb exploding next to him. Julian Corvus may have been given immortality by the Spear of Destiny, but David Purdue was undying in his own, unique way—a way that was even more impressive.
And now Julian was beating the war drums, mobilizing the entire order just to try and kill one man. He would usually have thought it was excessive, gratuitous even, but after everything Purdue had done, maybe it was really the only way to finally kill him.
One interesting bit of information didn't slip by Elijah's notice—Sasha was apparently dead. It was strange...he had never exactly been close with her. He was never close with most of the enforcers who ventured out into the field to find artifacts, outside of them coming to him to store the items they collected. But even only knowing her on a surface level, he was fascinated by her decision to turn on the Black Sun.
There was that night, when he found her spying on Julian. She had hurried from the base so quickly after hearing that Julian knew Purdue was alive. At that time, Elijah wasn't sure exactly what was running through her head when she bumped into him. He stood in her way, trying to figure out why she looked so afraid of being caught. For reasons he still didn't quite understand, he stepped aside and let her pass him. She was going to warn Purdue about what the Black Sun knew, and that might have been exactly what he needed to survive their latest efforts to kill him.
If Elijah hadn't stepped aside, things might have turned out very differently. Sasha would almost certainly still have been killed if he had turned her over to Julian that night, or even if he had told Julian about bumping into her after. But he had gotten out of her way, remained silent, and let events unfold. Now here he was, seeing the ramifications of his action. If he had done things differently, opened his mouth more than usual, the Order of the Black Sun may have even killed Purdue.
So why didn't he feel at all guilty? He actually felt sort of happy that Julian hadn't gotten what he wanted, and that the Black Sun was now being pushed against the ropes by just one man. But he should have wanted them to win. It was his team, after all...but he didn't. As much as he enjoyed the freedom that the secret society gave to him to do his work, and the opportunities they had presented him, he couldn't stop thinking about what Nina Gould had said to him.
Was he really okay with being on the wrong side?
Elijah remained where he had been the whole time while the rest of the order hurried around like they were preparing for battle. Julian was turning the corner of the corridor, out of sight, but Elijah could practically see him still fuming. More than anything, this conflict they were in with David Purdue had become about Julian's ego. His ego was going to put their whole society at risk, along with everything they had. The relics stored in the bowels of the deep vault might not even be safe.
Again, he thought more and more about his allegiance and what it could cost him.
He needed to speak to Nina again.
Oniel was a good listener—and he listened very carefully to everything Juilan said upon his return. Despite the alliance Oniel had made with Galen based on their mutual hatred for Purdue, he got some pleasure from watching Julian knock Galen onto his ass. But what Julian said afterward...Oniel was even happier that Purdue was still alive. He worried that his kill was going to be taken from him by Julian and his men, but that wasn't the case.
Oniel had sought out the Order of the Black Sun so he could be part of David Purdue's downfall. He didn't join them to sit back and let someone else kill him instead. Galen was obnoxious, but he was right when they spoke about being the ones who were actually worthy of killing Purdue. Oniel had served violent madmen before. The Wharf Man was hardly the bastion of mental health, and many would even call Oniel a psychopath. Perhaps he was; he wasn't sure. All he knew was that he wanted to see Purdue bleed for what he'd done, and he wouldn't be able to see that blood if someone else got to him first.
Oniel had lost his twin, Alton. He had been murdered by Purdue right in front of Oniel. He had lost his boss, the Wharf Man, who had also been murdered by Purdue. Most of the Wharf Man's criminal empire back home in Jamaica had fallen. There wasn't much left for Oniel. The one thing he clung to was his desire to make Purdue suffer.
Joining the Order of the Black Sun was a means to an end.He had never sworn utmost allegiance and devotion to them—thought that's what Julian probably wanted from his subordinates. They were nothing more than a way for him to get to the vengeance that he wanted so badly. The moment they got in the way of that was the moment he broke ties with them. And if they were still in his way, he had no problem killing them all.
Galen limped over to Oniel, brushing himself off from being assaulted by their boss. He was red faced and fuming. In the short time Oniel had known Galen, he knew that the Irishman's ego was his biggest vulnerability. He detested being looked down on or mocked. All Galen Fitzgerald wanted was to be admired, praised, and respected. Unfortunately for him, his personality made that practically impossible for anyone that knew him. Oniel would have had nothing to do with him if not for the fact that Galen wanted Purdue dead too. The two of them were willing to put their desire to kill Purdue over their loyalty to the order.
Maybe after he killed Purdue, Oniel would dispose of Galen. The thought of that possibility made Oniel feel rather good. He might even cut out the Irishman's tongue to finally shut him up from all of his posturing.
“That bastard,” Galen muttered, so quietly that Oniel barely heard him. He kept his voice incredibly low and was obviously afraid of being heard and getting another punishment from Julian. “I don't give a damn what he says. Davy is ours to kill. Not his. I should kill him for even touching me.”
Oniel didn't say a word. He just stared at Galen, waiting for him to quiet down. He was a lot of talk, but that was all. All he did was make bold claims and empty boasts.
“If he gets in the way
of me getting to Purdue, I'll--” Galen caught himself, realizing that the words he was saying were extremely dangerous. They would be considered treason by anyone else in the order, but Oniel wasn't going to tell anybody.
Oniel put a hand on Galen's shoulder and smiled to show that he agreed.
No one was going to get in the way of them killing David Purdue.
And after that, no one was going to stop Oniel from taking Galen's tongue.
16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN– THE SECOND CHANCE TO REWRITE HISTORY
Nina hadn't expected to see Elijah Dane on the other side of her cell bars again. Their last conversation hadn't exactly ended very cordially, and she really had no desire to speak to him. She used to think he wasn't so bad, back when she briefly helped him with his curating, but the more she learned about him, the more she had grown to despise him as much as the rest of the Order of the Black Sun. He may not have been the type to murder innocent people to get artifacts, but he was fine with it happening, and he was fine reaping the rewards, no matter how bloody the relics were when they were given to him.
“What do you want?” Nina asked from where she was sitting in the corner of her cell. There were very few comfortable places in her cell—none, really—but the one that was the least terrible was that corner. It had become her regular place to spend her time, tucked away with her back against the wall, making sure she could see any of her enemies like Elijah. “I don't want to talk to you.”
“I understand,” Elijah said in that robotic way that he usually did. Human emotions seemed to be hard for him sometimes, which made it clear why he was fine letting such inhumane things happen. “But I was hoping you would at least allow me a moment to speak.”
“About what?” Nina asked, her voice rising uncontrollably. “What could you possibly have to say to me that you haven't already, hm? Haven't you spent enough time trying to explain the logic of your actions? All your garbage about history, not caring about morals, and you being a guardian of history. I don't want to hear all of that crap again. It was utter garbage.”
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