Lies Ripped Open

by Steve McHugh

  It didn’t take long for us to reach the outskirts of the village that the Williamses lived in. Netley Abbey is a village that starts from the water’s edge of the River Itchen and slowly rises up to a peak a mile away. It’s full of old postwar housing, and new identi-kit flats, with a smattering of ancient buildings, such as the abbey the village was named after.

  We drove past the abbey—an old, crumbling building, which is rumored to be haunted—and down the main road that crosses through the village. At the far end, we took the car toward Victoria Country Park, a massive place that used to house a hospital until the 1960s, when most of it was finally demolished, leaving only the hospital chapel to tower over the rest of the park.

  I followed the Sat Nav and took a small road up away from the seafront and toward a gated community of several large houses, most of which had been converted into flats many years previously. I stopped at the gate and pressed the intercom button.

  “Can I ask whom you’re here to visit?” a man asked, his voice crackly with static through the small speaker.

  “The Williams,” Grayson called out. “It’s a police matter.”

  There was a pause. “Do all police drive fancy cars?” the man replied.

  “Open the gate and I’ll show you my ID if you’d like,” Grayson snapped.

  There was no immediate reply, but soon after a heavyset man, wearing a dark blue uniform, appeared out of one of the building’s front doors and almost swaggered over toward us.

  “Don’t you wish you were more of a punch people person?” I asked with a smile as Grayson ignored me and exited the car.

  He removed his ID from his trouser pocket and passed it to the guard once he was close enough. The guard made a big deal out of looking at it, turning it over and over in his hands, as if somehow it would change from turn to turn. He grudgingly passed it back to Grayson and activated the nearby gate controls.

  He watched intently as Grayson climbed back into the Jag and we drove onto the most exclusive patch of the small village, parking between a white and black BMW i8 and a blue Bentley Continental GT. Even my Jag felt out of place.

  “Do you know where you’re going?” the guard asked in the tone of someone who has just discovered that the people in front of him have more power than he does.

  Grayson pointed to the building furthest from us. “Flat four,” he said.

  “Well, if you need anything,” the guard told us cheerfully.

  “We won’t,” I called back, which made Grayson grin as we reached the massive building’s front door and entered into a lobby.

  To suggest the interior of the building was every bit as grandiose as the stunning white exterior, would be a little like suggesting the sun was a bit warm. The lobby had a marble floor, intricate carvings on the wooden banister, and ornate mirrors all over the place. That and some artwork that didn’t look like a five-year-old had done it on MS Paint. In short, it was the exact kind of lobby designed to take your breath away and get your wallets out.

  “Wow,” Grayson said as we walked past the spiral staircase, and stopped outside a lift whose golden-colored doors wore a mirror shine.

  “It’s pretty impressive, isn’t it?”

  The doors opened and the classical music inside settled over us.

  “I have no idea who the Williams are,” I said as the doors closed once Grayson pressed the number four button. “But doesn’t this all seem a bit much to you? Marble floors and the like. I’d be scared to break something.”

  “That’s because you’re an uncouth ruffian,” Grayson said with a laugh. “The more refined among us need not worry about breaking things; they merely glide through life, never really touching anything.”

  I paused and stared at Grayson as the doors opened. “That might be the single most depressing thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “I know,” he said with a sigh.

  A moment later he stopped walking and turned back to me. “We’ll take this slow. We don’t want to go spooking anyone.”

  As the Williamses’ home was the only one on the whole floor, it wasn’t exactly difficult to find. I knocked twice and waited for a few moments until the door was unlocked and pulled open slightly. The woman in the doorway was the same elderly woman from the hostage situation.

  “Remember me?” I asked.

  Liz Williams nodded.

  “You feel like telling me why the Reavers want you or your husband dead?” I turned to Grayson, who appeared as though he’d like to find a big hole to climb into. “Slow enough for you?”

  CHAPTER 8

  Liz Williams invited us both into her home, which turned out to be a tasteful and exquisitely furnished flat. She took Grayson and me thorough the massive, open-planned entrance and front room, to a small breakfast nook with a balcony that overlooked the wooded area of the park behind the house. Her husband, Edward, was already there, a pot of tea and four cups sitting on the table beside him.

  “Waiting for us?” I asked.

  “I’m a psychic,” Liz told us. “I knew you’d be here today. Timing was a bit off though, I thought you’d be ten minutes ago.”

  “So, what are you, Mister Williams?” I asked.

  “I’m an old man,” he said with a smile. “And an enchanter. Mostly the former these days.”

  Grayson was staring at Liz. “I’ve never met a psychic who lived past forty. I’ve only heard of a few who made it to fifty.”

  “You can thank my husband for that,” she said with a smile, and patted Edward’s hand as she took a seat next to him. She lifted the sleeve of her blue blouse and showed us a black rune tattooed there. “It means I only use my ability when I want to. I can switch it off most of the time. It’s a lifesaver. Literally.” She poured four cups of tea. “You going to sit, or stand and make the place look untidy?”

  Grayson and I did as we were told and sat down, taking the cups in front of us and adding milk and sugar as taste dictated; which for me consisted of just milk.

  “The Reavers in West Quay. Were they after you both?” Grayson said.

  “Just me,” Liz said. “I did some work for a Reaver many years ago. Helped him root out some very bad people in his midst.”

  “You worked for Avalon?” I asked.

  “We both did,” Edward answered. “I was in the BOA.”

  The BOA, or Blade of Avalon, were Avalon’s army. A group of highly trained warriors who defended Avalon from external threats.

  “And you?” I asked Liz.

  “LOA,” she told us.

  “How’d you end up working for the Reavers?” Grayson asked.

  “I didn’t work for them; I worked for a friend of mine, who happened to be working undercover as a member. He had been getting some notions that a few of the members of Avalon were no longer in it for the best of Avalon. Turns out those responsible were members of the Reavers. He went undercover to figure out who was involved, and I was going to help him, but he got killed before I could start. Avalon did nothing to help find his murderers, so I left Avalon and wanted nothing to do with them.”

  “The Reavers weren’t meant to exist after the twentieth century,” I pointed out.

  “You’re not meant to exist either, Hellequin,” Liz said with a smile. “Yet here you are right before me.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “You got that from touching my hand back at West Quay. You must have some serious power.”

  “That’s what everyone told me. As for your point, you’re right; the Reavers were officially no longer an entity. Unofficially, well, you know how Avalon works.”

  Unfortunately, I did.

  “And they want you to go back and do some more work for them?” Grayson asked.

  “They came here a week ago,” Liz said. “They wanted me to find someone for them.”

  “Who?” I asked.

  Liz and Edward shared a glance.

  “Who did they ask you to find, Mrs. Williams?” I repeated.

  “Felix Novius,” she said.

/>   I paused and let the name wash over me. “Why would they want to find Felix?” I asked, keeping my voice steady.

  Liz shrugged. “They weren’t exactly forthcoming with information.”

  “Wait,” I said, annoyed at myself for not realizing it earlier. “You need to be able to touch Felix to get a reading.”

  “Psychics do need contact to do a reading on someone,” Liz agreed. “But they can also use something that a person has had contact with to be able to track them. Not all psychics can do it, but the more powerful of my kind certainly can.”

  “Did they have things with them that were from me and Felix?”

  “I only saw one thing, although they took it with them when I refused to help.”

  A terrible feeling sat in my stomach. “What was it?”

  Liz nodded. “A piece of shrapnel; it was a torn and twisted piece of metal. It was covered in dried blood, so I couldn’t see what it would have looked like clean.”

  “It was about this big?” I asked, moving my fingers a few inches apart.

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “How do you know that?” Grayson asked me.

  “Because the blood on it is Felix’s. He saved my life and took the blast from a bomb.”

  “Who planted the bomb?” Grayson asked.

  “Jack the Ripper.”

  Everyone stared at me for a few seconds. “So the blood on the shrapnel was over a hundred years old?” Grayson asked.

  I nodded. “Must have been.”

  “So, who was the evil bastard?” Edward asked. “Jack I mean.”

  “That’s complicated,” I said, unwilling to elaborate further. “But I don’t understand how anyone could keep the shrapnel safe for all these years. It would be a hell of a feat.”

  “Magically, one assumes,” Liz said.

  Edward nodded. “Runes could do it. Stick it in a box and leave it there. That would work. The question is, why bother?”

  “And why come after him now?” I asked. “If the Reavers had the shrapnel, why wait? And if they didn’t, then who did?”

  “I don’t know,” Liz said, “but they were very insistent when they first arrived here.”

  “You refused?” Grayson asked.

  “Of course,” Edward said. “But they’re not exactly good at taking no for an answer. The runes on this place make it impossible for anyone to get in here without us wanting them. But they followed us to West Quay. They cornered us in that jewelers and demanded that we help them. The griffin wasn’t there then, just the other two. One of the other customers saw a gun and raised the alarm. The next thing we know everyone’s a hostage and they start hitting me until Liz talks.”

  “You agreed to help?” I asked, without judgment.

  Liz nodded. “Didn’t have much of a choice. They told me that once they were finished, they’d take Edward and me away to help them.”

  “One of the three Reavers told me that they wanted me to die in public,” I told them. “I was to be an execution to show their enemies that they were powerful.”

  “I touched the hand of one of those men,” Liz told me. “He wanted you dead, Nathan. I saw the burning hatred in his soul for you.”

  “When they first took the hostages there were only two of them,” Edward said. “Then they made a phone call and told whoever was on the other end to check on their next target, I assume that was you, Nathan. They wanted to check you were in.”

  “So they know where I live. Well, that’s not reassuring. Although if they wanted to attack me there, they already would have, maybe this morning’s incident has given them a reason to pause and be concerned about attacking me again.”

  “They’re not going to stop,” Liz said. “They’re fanatical.”

  “It’s a concern to think how many more are out there,” Grayson said.

  “Two of them won’t be a concern to anyone ever again.” I drank the remainder of my tea.

  After I’d been silent for a while, Grayson asked, “You okay?”

  I nodded. “Publicly executing me was never the original plan. Not in West Quay anyway; they had to improvise when it all kicked off. They were watching me already, probably planning an attack at my property.” I paused. “You know, I came here to get answers, but have ended up telling you both more than I probably should have. Why is that?”

  “There are runes in the flat,” Grayson said. “They get people to be open and honest. It’s impressive work.”

  Liz smiled. “How’d you know? You’re not an enchanter.”

  “I’m not easy to deceive.”

  I glanced at Grayson. I had no idea what he actually was, but I was certainly intrigued.

  “Okay, honesty time,” I told Edward and Liz. “Why did they come to you? I’m sure they know other psychics.”

  “That’s a long story,” Liz said.

  “We have time,” I told her. My words were slightly harder than I’d planned. I was annoyed at the revelation of the runes making me talkative, although whether I was more annoyed at them or at me for not noticing it, it was hard to tell.

  “Like I told you, my friend, who I worked for, was killed a few days after he asked for my help. I was the first to his house after his death, and I took a lot of the information he’d been gathering about those he thought were his comrades in arms. I took it all to my superiors in the SOA. That was forty years ago. I quit Avalon soon after and, with a little help, went into hiding with Edward.”

  “Who were the people in the files?” I asked.

  “I didn’t look. I knew if I did that someone would kill me for it. My supervisor at the time was a psychic, he’d have known if I was lying. Like I said, they didn’t do a thing to help find my friend’s murderer; I didn’t trust them to keep me alive if they thought I was a threat.”

  “So how did anyone find you?” I asked.

  Liz shrugged. “I don’t know. But I’m not moving. I’m not running. If they want to come for me, they’re more than welcome to. They know where we are.”

  I was impressed with Liz’s determination to not be scared or bullied into leaving the place she called home. I glanced across the thick treetops that littered the view for several miles behind the house. I probably wouldn’t want to leave here either.

  “It can’t just be the three of them,” I said. “Let’s say the griffin was at my house, someone had to decide he needed to leave. It certainly wasn’t those two incompetent idiots I killed. That means there are more involved. The last time I dealt with the Reavers, their organization wasn’t massive, but it was full of devoted individuals.”

  “I’d put money that nothing has changed,” Edward said.

  I glanced down at the car park beneath us, and noticed that the guard who’d let us through the gates was searching through the boot of his car; his back was toward us and he didn’t appear to be overly concerned about anyone watching him.

  “His name is Mortimer,” Liz told me. “He’s worked here for years. While he’s a bit of a stickler for the rules, he’s a nice enough man.”

  “Does he know that you’re not human?” Grayson asked.

  Both of them shook their heads. “This is a mostly human community,” Edward said. “No one here knows who, or what, we really are.”

  I glanced back down at the car park, but it was now empty. A few seconds later the intercom buzzed and Edward got up to answer it.

  Liz reached out and grabbed her husband, bringing his head in for a kiss on the cheek. “I love you, you crazy old bastard,” she whispered.

  He held her gaze for a heartbeat. “Right back at you, beautiful.”

  Liz released Edward and he walked off to answer the door.

  “Thanks for your help,” I told Liz, while she looked away toward where Edward had walked.

  She smiled. “You’re welcome. If the Reavers have targeted you, they won’t stop, and if they can’t get to you directly—”

  “They’ll find other means, I know,” I finished for her. “I’m hoping to cut
that idea off at the pass. Do you have any idea where those in charge will be?”

  “Avalon,” Liz said without hesitation. “The most powerful of them will be in Avalon. I don’t know what game they’re playing, I don’t think anyone outside of their organization does, but when I investigated them it involved high-ranking Avalon members.”

  “Did you ID them?” Grayson asked.

  Liz shook her head. “I’d be wary of Avalon if I were you. You don’t know who’s a friend. And it sounds like the Reavers have a plan in motion.”

  “Pretty much par for course with Avalon,” I said with a slight sigh. “I’ll look into the Reavers. If their plan is to see me dead, I’d really rather they didn’t get the opportunity to complete it.”

  Liz sighed and took my hands in hers. “This is where it all begins for you, Nathan.”

  “Where what begins?”

  “Eventually you’ll discover the truth, eventually you’ll learn exactly who you are. But there’s going to be an awful lot of pain and death between now and then.”

  “You’re a lot more powerful than you let on, aren’t you?” I asked.

  Liz nodded. “I wish I knew who was behind everything, but I can’t see them, only you. Everyone’s face is a blur except yours. All I know is that you need to go to Avalon for answers. Can I give you some advice?”

  It was my turn to nod.

  “Sometimes you have to trust those who have never given you reason to do so. Sometimes you have to be the bigger man and accept the past for what it was, if you have any hope of moving forward. And sometimes you have to bury everyone who dares oppose you. You’ll have to do all three at some point. I just hope you can figure out what goes where.”

  “And if I can’t?” I asked.

  She held my gaze like she was made of granite. “Then we’re all fucked.”

  I opened my mouth to speak but a doorbell rang and Edward called out a few seconds later, “Just Mortimer, he’s got a parcel for you.”

  “I guess that’s our cue to leave,” Grayson said.