“Is that kid at risk of dying because of you?” Ben asked.
Andrew gave a shrug and shoved the wallet back into his pocket. “As far as I know, he’s healthy and stable. I’ve sent his consciousness into a dream state. He likes consciousness-altering substances, so the dream-state was welcomed. Others are not so receptive to my methods of borrowing their bodies and they fight me.”
Ben shook his head. “This is insane.”
“You say that a lot,” Andrew commented. He started walking, leaving Ben to break into a short jog in order to catch up. “Insanity or no, you’ve been presented with information, with facts and evidence. Even me, who obviously couldn’t be a stranger with the information I possess, you still think there’s some kind of trick.”
Ben clenched his jaw and crossed his arms. “What do you expect?”
“I’m not entirely sure,” Andrew confessed. “You humans have always confused me. Your ability to accept the most irrational series of information extends beyond reason, yet you reject perfectly acceptable, tangible facts and claim they are sent as a test of your faith.” He shook his head and sighed. “I stopped trying to figure you out long ago.”
“Lucky you,” Ben muttered. He picked up his pace and before long, they were standing at the entrance to the tall, looming hotel. “Any chance you can sense where Stella is?”
Andrew looked at Ben as though Ben had asked if the sky was blue. Without answering, Andrew reached across Ben and pressed the button on the elevator wall, sending them hurtling up to the eighth floor. The doors opened with a soft ping sound, and the pair of them stepped into the ugly red hotel carpet.
“Which way?” Ben asked, resigning himself to following Andrew’s direction, as he had no idea which way to go, and no idea how he was going to handle the situation once he got there.
Andrew paused near the railing of the low wall that looked down into the atrium in the hotel lobby. Stretching far above them stood the high glass ceilings, the filtered, soft light illuminating Andrew’s face in an almost ethereal way. It was in this moment that Ben could see behind the human eyes of the skateboarding kid.
“She’s not alone,” Andrew said quietly. “She’s with someone, and he’s old.”
“Great,” Ben said with a groan.
“You can’t kill him,” Andrew pointed out. “Shooting the human host would cause too many complications.”
“No kidding,” Ben snapped at him sarcastically. “We should probably just go.”
“Go where?” Andrew pressed. “I don’t think it’s going to be as simple as blowing up a bunch of farm buildings this time around. We need to find those two Jesus clowns before Nike can make them talk.”
“What does she want from them anyway?” Ben asked. “I thought Mark was pretty clear that Judas couldn’t heal you guys.”
“I’m fairly certain she doesn’t need healing,” Andrew said, and then started off down the hall.
Ben caught up with him in a few strides, and together they navigated the twisting hotel hallways. Keeping his eye on the subtle brown signs tacked up on the wall, they made their way to the back end of the building and stopped in front of door eight-seven-seven.
“Well go on,” Andrew said nodding. “Do whatever it is you do.”
Ben looked at him, his face pained. “Do what, exactly? Like you said, I can’t go in there and shoot anyone, and I’m not exactly interested in having my balls squeezed by some disgruntled, displaced Greek god.”
Andrew snorted a laugh and shook his head. “Why not try knocking on the door and see if she answers.”
Ben’s cheeks pinked and he cleared his throat. “Yeah, okay.”
Andrew stood back against the wall as Ben approached the door, lifted his fist and rapped three times. He reached into his coat, put his hand on his gun and waited. Several moments passed before he looked back at Andrew with a pained expression. “Now what?”
Andrew shrugged. “You’re the detective… detect something. Can you hear anything?”
“Can’t you, big bad god?” Ben retorted childishly, feeling thoroughly put-out, but he pressed his ear to the door anyway. After a moment, he could hear something. Voices, hushed but speaking rapidly. From the tone, Ben could tell they were fighting, but he couldn’t make out much of what they were saying. He pressed his ear harder to the wood, but it didn’t help.
After several frustrating moments, Ben pulled away and gave a shrug. “Look, I can’t force her to come to the door, and if I try and kick it down, assuming I actually could, I’d be in severe trouble. I’m not on duty, I don’t have a warrant, she hasn’t done anything technically wrong, and I’m sure whoever is in there with her won’t be pleased to see me.”
“Well that’s true,” Andrew said. “The person in there won’t be pleased to see you.”
Ben’s face got hot and he suddenly remembered that the kid he was with was the person who had told him that his sister was still alive. “Is it Abby?” he asked, his voice growing tight.
Andrew shook his head. “No. Wherever your sister is, she’s in hiding. I may know a lot, but I’m not omniscient, and if Nike doesn’t want to be found, she won’t be found. Not by one of us, anyway.”
Ben wanted to ask more, to demand how Andrew knew that his sister lived through the blast. He wanted to know how she had survived such an explosion, and if she was going to be okay. Now, however, wasn’t the time. Ben heard stomping footsteps, and panicked, he grabbed Andrew by the front of his hoodie and yanked him around the corner. They stood together, huddled in front of the ice machine as Stella’s hotel door swung open with a bang.
“This isn’t over. This isn’t a joke, either. I don’t know what you think you’re trying to accomplish, but this was not our deal.”
With that, the voice went silent and Ben could hear the light sounds of footsteps padding across the thin carpet. After a moment, Ben chanced a look, and saw the hallway empty. With a sigh, the pair moved away from the ice machine and went back to Stella’s door.
Ben looked over at Andrew who gave him a shrug, and nodded for him to knock again. Ben complied, this time expecting an answer. He got one after a moment, but he was surprised to see Stella looking completely disheveled, hair a mess, and face stained with tears.
Her dark eyes widened when she saw it was Ben, and she quickly cleared her throat, swiping at her cheeks with the back of her hand. “Ben,” she said, her voice hoarse, “what are you doing here?”
Ben felt a pang of sympathy and guilt in the pit of his stomach, and was torn between wanting to hold her and wanting to take her by the shoulders and demand to know what was going on. He took the middle approach, took a step back, and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Stella, we need to talk.”
She frowned with confusion, and opened the door wider. As she stepped into the doorway, she noticed Andrew standing against the wall, looking bored, his arms crossed over his chest. She frowned up at Ben and asked, “Who is that?”
“Andrew,” Ben said absently, still taking in her disheveled appearance. She was wearing a thin, cream colored blouse, but two of the buttons in the middle were missing, and the shirt seam was torn. She’d clearly been in a fight, though she didn’t appear to have suffered any physical damage, but the whole situation was very suspicious.
“We’ve met,” Andrew said.
That statement shocked Ben out of his examination of his would-be girlfriend, and he looked over to his companion. “You have?”
“Last year,” Andrew said. “I was in an old man at the time.”
Stella stared at him with wide eyes, and then looked up at Ben. Her face was blank, but her hands had a slight tremble to them as she stepped back and beckoned them inside. Ben followed, his eyes taking in the room, looking for some indication of what happened.
There were two beds, one slept in, the other still pristine. A small table sat at the far room, one chair near the wall, the other dragged to the other side of the room, positioned in front of the full-body mirror. S
tella’s suitcase was the only telling item in the room, lying on its side with the contents tipped over, her clothes spread across the floor.
Both men carefully avoided her garments as they stepped in, Andrew flopping down on the unmade bed, and Ben leaning against the night table between them. Stella shut and bolted the door, and when everything was secure, she turned to them.
“You can’t be here.”
“Who was that man?” Ben demanded. “What the hell is going on?”
“It’s a personal matter,” Stella said in a quiet, clipped tone. She walked across her stuff, paying no mind to her clothes, and sat down in the chair by the table. She dropped her face into her hands and gave a groan. “I swear, it has nothing to do with you.”
Ben didn’t believe her. He crossed the room and leaned across the table, using his hand to prod her head back up. “Why didn’t you tell me about Mark and Judas?”
Stella frowned. “What are you talking about? I told you everything I knew. If Mark gave you new information, I swear he didn’t share it with me.”
Ben stared at her and realized she was being absolutely truthful. He glanced over at Andrew who was staring at him with a slight smirk.
“She doesn’t know,” Andrew said with a shrug.
Ben looked back at Stella who looked even more confused. “You really don’t remember?”
“Remember what?” she pressed. She glared over at Andrew who was playing with his wallet, flinging cards across the room at the wall. “What the hell is going on, and why is he with you?” She said the word ‘he’ with such disdain that Ben knew there was no friendly blood between them. He was curious how and why Stella and Andrew knew each other, however now was not the time to find that story out.
Sighing, Ben grabbed the chair by the mirror and dragged it back to the table. He needed to sit for this. The entire situation was quickly becoming maddening, and he knew things were about to get even more complicated. Mark had been right, they had all been right, and Ben wasn’t sure he was going to be able to accept that truth. Stella was one of them. Something possessed her when he wasn’t around, and that thought terrified Ben beyond words.
“Mark’s apartment blew up,” Ben finally said, doing his best to meet her eyes.
Stella’s eyebrows raised with shock. “What?”
Ben shrugged. “His apartment blew up. As in went ka-boom. The entire side of the fifteenth floor was blown out when I got there. They’d cleared the building, and there weren’t any reported injuries.”
“So he’s okay?” Stella asked, her voice quiet.
“He’s missing,” Ben said. “He’s not answering any calls, and as far as the police reports go, no one was home during the blast.”
Stella let out a short breath. “What does that mean?”
Ben put his hands on the table slowly, clasping them together. He felt, suddenly, like he was in the interrogation room with a suspect. Shaking his head, he said in a very quiet voice, “I was hoping you could tell me.”
“What do you mean?” Stella asked. She was picking up on something now, and her eyes became harder and more narrow. “What exactly am I supposed to know that you don’t?”
“Stella, you were there during the blast,” Ben said slowly.
“The hell I was,” she replied sharply. “If your little friend over there is trying to imply-”
Ben glanced over at a grinning Andrew and then shook his head, interrupting her. “When I got to the building this morning, one of the responding officers was still there. The first eyewitness to the explosion and the one who made the 9-1-1 call was you, Stella. You were there for over two hours after you provided your witness statement.”
All the color drained from Stella’s face as she stared at Ben. “What?” she asked in a voice barely above a whisper.
Ben sat back and looked at her. She was not faking her reaction as best he could tell. Her hands began to tremble visibly as she swiped at her face, and she looked like she might be sick. After everything he’d been through, Ben knew he shouldn’t be surprised at the idea that she was one of them, or being used by one of them, but it didn’t make accepting it any easier.
“I um…” she said blankly.
“Well I certainly hope you aren’t surprised,” Andrew said, rising from the bed and crossing the room. He kicked one of Stella’s lace bra’s to the side with his foot as he approached the small table. “Are you trying to say you don’t remember having a black-out episode right after you exited Mark’s apartment?”
“Were you there?” Ben asked, staring up at Andrew.
“No,” Andrew said, “but I happen to know that when she switches over, she blacks out, and I’m curious as to why her blacking out didn’t cause reason for suspicion. At least suspicion enough to drive back to Mark’s in the morning to check on him.”
Ben’s eyes snapped to Stella’s face which was still pale and drawn. “Look, I was tired,” she said. “I’ve been dealing with…” she trailed off and glanced at the hotel door for a moment, “a personal issue which, despite what you might think, has nothing to do with Mark or Judas. The uh, blackout,” she said, stressing the word, “was scheduled.”
Ben’s stomach gave a lurch as he realized that whatever thing she was involved with was voluntary. She was electively one of these monsters, and she had been the entire time. Ben began to sweat and he sat back, wiping the drops from his brow. “How long?” he asked.
Stella looked at him, almost startled that he’d spoken. She cleared her throat and asked, “Sorry?”
“How long,” Ben repeated pointedly, “has this been going on? How long have you been letting one of them use your body?”
Stella looked down but said nothing.
Ben slapped his hand on the top of the table, startling her. He was angry now, betrayed and hurt and he wanted some answers. When he thought Abby had died, he thought this was over, that they’d averted whatever crisis had been looming over their heads. Now he had some ancient skateboard kid standing over him saying that his sister was alive, and that he had to try and stop this impending global disaster now that Mark and Judas had disappeared. Again. To top it off, the one woman he’d bothered to give a shit about in over a decade was actually one of them, and had been hiding it from Ben the entire time.
“It’s not as simple as that,” Stella began.
Ben snorted, interrupting her, and he stood. “Right. Not as simple as that. Well that’s convenient, now isn’t it? First you come and sell me some bullshit about how I was right, there was a scientific explanation for everything going on as I was dealing with a spontaneously healing brain tumor, a missing immortal, and Greek gods up my ass at every turn. Now I find out you’re blacking out, and that you actually let one of them use your body? How do you know that whatever took you over last night didn’t blow up that building?”
Stella and Andrew exchanged a long look before she answered. “My other half,” she said carefully, “did not blow up the building. My other half isn’t working with anyone who is after Mark or Judas. I can tell you that for sure.”
“You do realize I don’t believe a goddamn thing you say now, right?” Ben growled at her.
“She’s telling the truth,” Andrew said, stepping in.
“You know this how?” Ben demanded.
Andrew sighed. “Because I do. We’re not getting anywhere here, and while I know you’re all upset and betrayed, we’ve got to move on. We’re losing time, she has no answers and we need to find someone who does. So why don’t you update your Facebook relationship status to ‘it’s complicated’ and then we can hit the road. I have an idea of where we need to go, but we need to head out now if we’re going to make it in time.”
Ben glared at Andrew, but was promptly ignored as Andrew walked to the door, opened it, and let himself out. With a sigh, Ben looked back down at Stella who was openly crying. “We are not done here,” he said to her forcefully.
“Look, if I hear anything, I’ll let you know. He’s right, a
nd you guys can’t waste any more time with me,” Stella said.
Ben hesitated, wondering if she was trying to throw them off by directing them away. Still, he had to go with his gut on this one and follow Andrew. So far Andrew was the only one who had given him information he could use, and the only one who hadn’t hidden anything from him.
“He said my sister is alive,” Ben said as he started to leave. He ignored Stella’s surprised gasp as she rose to come after him. “If I find out that you knew and didn’t tell me…”
“I didn’t know,” she said, her voice changing dramatically. “Ben, I would have never kept that from you!”
“Don’t leave town,” Ben warned as he opened the door. “Don’t make me track you down.” He didn’t wait for a response from her, slamming the door behind him as he walked into the hall. Andrew was waiting at the turn for him, and as he caught up, the pair made their way back to the elevator without saying a word.
As they got in, Ben punched the button for the ground floor and the elevator began its plummet down. Ben felt a wave of dizziness as his body adjusted to the solid floor, and they made their way through the crowded lobby and onto the street.
Andrew was walking quickly, a few steps ahead of Ben, but the detective made no move to increase his speed. Andrew was leading the way now, and he was following, clinging to a desperate hope that when they found Mark and Judas, his sister’s rescue might not be far behind.
Chapter Six
Mark became conscious before he could move his limbs. He had been dreaming of the desert, of millennia ago when he walked, scalding sand marring his feet as he crossed from city to city, searching, desperate for answers.
The first thing Mark noticed as his brain flared to life was the bed beneath him. It was hard, the stuffing below matted down thick and tough. He wasn’t bound, but his limbs didn’t want to move of their own accord.
His skin felt charred, hot, stretched over his muscle and bones. He ached all over, and searing pain shot up his arm as he finally got his fingers to twitch. He sucked in his breath and forced himself to raise his arm in spite of the pain, his fingers raw but intact, touching his face to inspect the damage.
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