by Nathan Parks
She spotted the tall, slender figure of Trinita’s sister, Yara. She had taken over the covert operations division and her sister’s work after Trinita’s passing. So many times, her Latina flair brought such a spice of festivity to the Sanctum; so much like her sister, the pain of the loss of Trinita had been dulled some.
Standing beside Yara was her intelligence chief, Faheem. He had spent most of his time here within the mortal realm working in the heartlands of what had become known as the Arabia territory. Their history together dated back before the fall of Babylon.
They all allowed her to take “center stage” and surrounded her as they stood solemnly. None of them could truly fathom the impact of this meeting. They knew she had returned from a meeting with the Arch Council, and several noticed that she appeared to be dressed for a full onslaught.
She turned to look at all of them straight on. Her face was set, firm and noble. They were her family, and she was theirs; some things would never change.
“I am leaving.” The words seemed to come out without her moving her lips. They were just there . . . no explanation, at first . . . just there.
There were a few gasps, and then Yara expressed vocally what everyone else was thinking, “What do you mean? Leaving? Leaving . . . as going on a trip? Leaving like . . .”
Leah turned to look at her. She was shaking inside out of anger toward the Council for bringing her to this. “Leaving, Yara, like I am no longer allowed here.”
“Says who?” Ki vehemently expressed through clenched teeth. He thought he knew the answer, and he could feel anger coursing through the fibers in his arms. Nothing prepared him for her answer.
“By my choice,” she lied. True it had been her choice, but it had been coming. She couldn’t afford them to fully comprehend the struggle between her and the Council. They all couldn’t follow her, and she knew they would if given the chance.
“Your choice?” Troy was puzzled. “I don’t understand.”
“You?” Faheem questioned Troy. “Look around. I dare say none of us do!”
“Shhh . . ..” she hushed all of them. She stood in the middle, feeling every set of eyes upon her and starting to feel the fatigue of the burden she had accepted. “I have chosen to go the path of the Vapors.”
“No!” Yara expressed almost in a sob. “No, Leah!”
Ki couldn’t speak. He stood there feeling as if the death blow of a Fallen had sliced through his core, and he was waiting as the shadows took him into their embrace. He couldn’t move. His hands were numb, and his tongue felt swollen. “This could not be! This was a test! Not Leah!” he raged inwardly.
It was times like this that Troy hated his humanity. He had no idea what they were talking about. In his time with the Alliance, he had heard of the Vapors; but it was something no one talked about, and he dared not really ask. He understood enough that they were not Fallen or mortal.
“No!” Ki exploded. The muscles in his face quivered as his anger blasted outward, eyes glazed over in frustration. “This was not your choice but theirs, wasn’t it? They forced you!”
“Who?” Troy asked looking from Ki to Leah. “The Council?”
Leah grabbed Ki by the shoulders, her fingers gripping tightly against his skin, and pulled him face-to-face with her. “Shut it! Do you hear me? Stop it now! You don’t know what you are talking about, and I need you to control everything you are feeling right now! This team needs you, and I still need you!”
“Oh, so we don’t need you? Is that it?”
Even though he spoke in anger, his words were like a punch in the gut to her. She knew he had every right to be angry, but that was dangerous. It could cause him to cross over.
“I chose this! I ask all of you that if there has ever been a time you have trusted me, PLEASE let it be now! I do not expect you to understand, and it is something that will hurt; but it was something I had to do.”
“So it is,” Faheem stated. The even tones in his deep voice seemed to reach out and bring quietness to the group. “We cannot change what has been done, no matter how much we may want to or not understand it. It is simply just so. Leah, I don’t know why it is that you have chosen what you have chosen; but you have always been there for us, and we will still be there for you.”
He turned and looked at the others. “The Fallen are still out there, and there is still a lot of activity that is unexplained. We cannot afford something like this to tear us apart when the mortal realm needs us now more than ever.”
Chapter Thirteen
The aroma of the pancake batter, burnt bacon, and peppered eggs had all been lost in the middle of Tori’s all but inhaling her own breakfast and indulging in four glasses of OJ. She normally found herself grabbing a snack cake, maybe “quick-handing” a donut from the corner store. She honestly couldn’t remember the last time she sat down to a full breakfast. Her traveling companions ate in silence, allowing the teenager to fully ingest this morning feast. It was the least they could do.
There was a lot still to discuss, and there was also the matter of what was going on inside of this young lady and what they would tell Leah. Serenity was very surprised they had not received a phone call yet from either the Alliance leader or Gideon. It would surely come at any moment.
She and Chad had not had the chance to really discuss this “thrown-together” plan and what the repercussions may be. Right now, it didn’t seem to matter. What mattered is they just follow their instinct or the guidance of Jah, depending on how one looked at it.
It seemed they had been on the road for a long period of time; but, in fact, they had only been traveling from the city for a few hours. Dawn had already broken, and daylight was full blown. Their destination sat only about two miles away, but neither one of them seemed to want to move.
Neither really knew what lay at the end of today nor even if there was hope for Tori, but they had to believe in something. They both knew that Tori would be asking more questions in a minute, and they had to have some answers—answers they really didn’t have.
The teen used the last of her toast to sop up the egg yolk on her plate. The texture of the toast whisked up the yellow substance, and she relished the last bit of flavor as it sat upon her taste buds.
At this moment she felt as if her worries, cares, and burdens were gone. She was on the mountaintop, and the world lay at her feet. She sat with her head still, her eyes closed. She breathed in slowly, ignoring the obvious scents in the air but remembering the clean, crisp scent of the winter air outside. She wanted to be free . . . free from any nightmares and outbursts, free from a feeling of captivity and depression. She wanted to be strong . . . strong like what her companions seemed to be like . . . and, yes, there was always love—like the way she saw Chad look at Serenity.
“Tori?” it was Serenity’s voice tapping on the window of her conscience. She opened her eyes and lifted her head. “We think it is time to let you know a little bit of what is going on and what we are doing out here in this deserted place.”
Tori sat up and leaned forward in her seat. Her eyes were bright with anticipation, and her heart was beating quicker . . . the way it does when one is reading a great novel and can tell that something big is about to happen. The only thing was that this time it wasn’t a novel, and the feeling was about something of which she was truly a part.
“This is the raw truth of it all,” Chad expressed as he fidgeted with his fork and knife. He adjusted them on his plate and then re-adjusted them, clearly showing he didn’t know what to say. “There is a darkness that threatens everything we know each and every day. Call it demons, vampires, ghouls—I don’t care—but it is real, and we are a part of it. Actually, everyone is a part of it whether they know it or not. Those of us who do know about it, believe it, and fight it, try our best to ensure that those who do not know stay not knowing. Sometimes that doesn’t happen, because individuals get too close to things that they don’t fully understand.”
“Like me, huh?” her voice
held as if she was making a statement, and yet a question all in one. “Those things really were vampires, weren’t they?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
Both Chad and Serenity spoke at the same time. Chad threw up his hands slightly as if to say, “Come on!”
It was Serenity who spoke though, “As Chad stated—call them what you like—the truth is that they are dark, evil, and out to take down anything mortal and make it their own.”
“Am I one of them?”
“We are not sure.”
“But I didn’t get bit.”
“It doesn’t work that way, Tori.” Serenity almost whispered with regret. “There are myths and legends that have been passed down through the ages that have made these creatures even more dangerous because it has made what they do unbelievable.”
“People don’t know what to really believe . . . the difference between reality and fantasy,” Chad interjected. “What better way to make prey vulnerable than to make them not truly understand your existence and the true danger?”
“So where does that leave me? I mean, what I saw in The Warehouse was real! I saw it, and I heard it rush at me; and then the fits and voices that I am having and hearing . . . I know those are real! Am I . . . possessed?”
Serenity just sat there, not sure how to explain what she also did not understand. “On the way here, you went into a fit and attacked Chad,” Serenity explained, trying to see if Tori remembered any of what had happened. “Do you remember any of that . . . anything at all that might be able to help us?”
The young girl sat in silence, her chest moving with her breathing; but nothing else showed that she had even heard the question. It seemed like ten minutes . . . time seemed to stretch outward past the trio. She felt as if cold water was dripping down her legs, and her arms were itching. Memories were trying to peek around barriers that her mind was building up as fast as it could.
She did remember—but didn’t want to! That voice, the visions, the pain, and soul anguish had been too much then; and her self-preservation was kicking in, refusing to return. What if they were still inside of her, or maybe she was just mental? What then?
Chad and Serenity watched patiently and attentively. They didn’t want a rerun of last night’s incident, but they needed her to provide as much information as she could. The young lady began to fiercely scratch at her arms as if she was riddled with bites; her head hung down, and her hair dangled around her face.
“Tori, what do you remember?”
“Worms and pain! They were eating at my skin, and I was scared like I had never been scared before.” She paused, and Chad noticed that her hair was taking on a shine as if she was sweating. He reached across the table and took the one hand that he could reach and held it. The young girl trembled slightly. Looking up, she had a worn-down, crushed appearance about her. “Who is Legion?”
Chad and Serenity just sat there. Nothing. They looked at each other, but neither of them seemed to have an answer.
“Is that a name you heard?”
Tori nodded her head at Chad’s question. “They said it was his name . . . no, their name.”
“‘They said’?”
“There were so many voices, but they spoke almost as if they were one voice. They were all there, yet it seemed it was one shadow, one creature. I can’t explain it. I don’t want to.” She was now shaking very visibly.
“You don’t have to,” Chad spoke with strong, soothing tones; and he kept a hold of her hand. It was cold and clammy, the way it would feel if an individual was going through shock. “You don’t need to right now. Hopefully, we know of someone who can help out.”
Tori just nodded her head.
◆◆◆
Denora eyed Hecate as she walked in and sat down in the chair across from her. She wanted to hate her—the way that one thirsty for power hates another who has it—but it was because of what Hecate represented that did not allow for hatred from Denora. Hecate did represent power and strength. She had been wielding it for so long, and Denora could not help but admire the skill with which she did it.
“Welcome, Lieutenant,” Hecate stated with dripping sarcasm. “Thank you for taking time out to meet me.”
“Shut up, Hecate,” Denora snapped. “You know that I haven’t held that rank since your escapade at The Vortex.”
Hecate reached over and plucked an almond from the bowl that was on the small circular table that was beside her chair and quietly put it in her mouth. She began to chew on it as she thought to herself how she was going to approach the reason for having Denora here. She paused, smiled, and then asked, “How is your Master these days?”
There was no response right away. Hecate’s visitor knew that she was trying to bait her. For what reason, she wasn’t sure; but she knew that Hecate’s question was meant to get a specific response. She wouldn’t give it to her.
“I am my own Master; but, then again, I’m sure you are attempting a futile inquiry into the status of Arioch.”
Denora leaned forward in the tall, antique chair in which she was sitting. She was dressed in dark, ripped jeans; a printed, rock T-shirt; and black leather boots that were laced to her mid-calf. Not much had changed over the last five years; but one thing had changed, and that was her ability to control the dark fire that burned within her soul. She had actually learned the virtue of its control by watching the lady before her.
“I still am not sure what your motive was that night at The Vortex, and I am fairly sure that what The Alliance did that night was not part of your plan; but being the skilled manipulator you are, you were able to still use it to your advantage.”
“My advantage?”
“Don’t play coy with me, Hecate. It is no secret that as the different Houses have fallen in disarray, your Clan has actually grown in strength and numbers.”
She could not deny that even if she wanted to. There was no way to hide that she had been able to not only bring fresh Halflings and Familiars into her ranks, but she also had pilfered very nicely from the broken Clans. She could never have planned such a shattering of the different Houses if she had tried. After the division and fighting among the Clans following the incident that night at The Vortex, many Clans had broken into a civil war. Overlords found themselves having to defend their positions from within their own Houses. Arioch’s plan to create his own Clan from out of the shadows of the House of Marduk had fanned the flames of a flickering ember of dissent that burned just below the surface in many of the Clans.
“You have renounced your Clan ties; but I am still an Overlord to mine, and you are in my house. You also will do well to not forget who has been in my position from the time of exile and even before the War of the Serpents,” Hecate stated with an authoritative tone that demanded no argument without repercussion. There was a low growl from where Cerberus was lying in the corner.
Denora reached down to the top of one of her boots and, with one finger, partially pulled out one of her blades. “I can tell you this, that he . . .” she cocked her head in Cerberus’ direction, “may maul me into eternity, but I can guarantee that he will struggle to haul around one dead head.”
Stubborn, disrespectful, and obstinate would all describe Denora; but vicious, violent, and bloodthirsty were the characteristics that Hecate knew had drawn Arioch to Denora, and these were the things that Hecate needed right now.
“Denora, the truth is no matter what you think of what I have done or not done, I know what you are capable of; and I need you.”
“Did you just say you NEED me?”
“I know that is something very few have ever heard come from my lips throughout all the ages of our existence, but you just heard me say it.” Hecate stood up and began to walk around the study in which they talked. “You are right when you assume that I have plans. I have always had plans. It was my plan that set the War of the Serpents in motion . . .”
“Was it your plans that got our kind exiled?” Denora scoffed.
“Even the best thought-out plans have unforeseen setbacks and consequences, Dear. At the same time, a good leader will take those unforeseen moments and capitalize on them; and you will do well to learn this. This is one of those moments, Denora,” She turned and looked at her.
“I can see you are hungry for power and authority. This is what drove you to side with Arioch, and you served him well—maybe with misguidance—but well. Now, I am going to give you the chance to rise beside me, and I promise you that beside me you will rise. There is no mistake there.
“Before you ever thought of belting out the first tune with your band, before you tasted your first drop of mortal blood upon your lips, I had things in motion; and both mortal and immortal have danced to my tunes. I do need you; and if you will be my dance partner, you will discover that you will also be unstoppable!”
“I have heard similar speeches before, Hecate. Personally, I am tired of grandiose speeches from figures in power who always have a backend, hidden meaning that usually requires a lot of sacrifice to the ears that hear and no return for the hands that perform.” She stood up and threw up her hands. “Speaking of ‘performance,’ I have one to get ready for. My band is starting our European leg of shows, and this is taking up too much of my time.”
