The Bishop's Legacy

by Lincoln Cole

  “So, you’re saying that Jeremy did this behind the girl's back?”

  “That’s how it is seeming. Why give them a peaceful death if you’re planning to do something brutal to their body right after? They must have been asphyxiated by the girl, because it also doesn’t fit what we know about Jeremy. The organs were probably taken after, no doubt by one of Jeremy’s allies.”

  “So you think Jeremy did this without her knowledge?”

  “Or her consent. That’s my hope at least. I can’t say for certain, but it is a likely possibility. I don’t think she would have approved if she knew what he had planned.”

  “Then you don’t think she’s a fully willing participant.”

  “No. I don’t.”

  “She still killed them,” Niccolo argued.

  “I know,” Arthur replied, climbing into the driver’s seat of the car. “But it’s at least a small silver lining. Maybe there is hope for her redemption.”

  “Maybe,” Niccolo agreed, though he didn’t sound convinced.

  It was a quiet trip north through Ohio to get back to Desiree, though this time Niccolo was less depressed and more introspective. He was thinking about their situation. If he wasn’t brooding on what happened back at the shipyard Arthur was happy.

  Arthur called Frieda again to give her an update once they made it back to his home. He made the call in the barn while Niccolo went inside the house to find Desiree and tell her what they saw.

  Arthur filled Frieda in on the details of the Church of Saint Thomas. The bodies, the way they were sliced up, and the fact that most of it happened postmortem.

  “Except for the priest,” he explained. “He died horribly.”

  “You think Jeremy did it.”

  “I hope so. Would be pretty terrible to find out there’s another player this late in the game.”

  Frieda let out a sigh. “You think that’s his plan? To hit churches? Maybe we should warn the Vatican so they can put them on high alert.”

  “Would they want to? Hiring guards for the churches could be more damaging than just trying to withstand this attack.”

  “True.”

  “I don’t think that’s the plan anyway. This didn’t feel like an ideal target or just an attack of opportunity. This feels like it is just the beginning.”

  “The beginning of what?”

  “I don’t know, but … He’s harvesting.”

  “Organs?”

  “Mmhmm. I think he’s planning to summon more demons. If I had to guess, he intends to rebuild the army they lost in Everett. With the number of organs he collected, he could be well on his way to achieving that. He could have a handful of demons already.”

  “Just keeps getting worse. You have to stop him, Arthur.”

  “I know.”

  “How is Niccolo?”

  “Not great, but better,” Arthur replied. “He’s starting to come to terms with what happened, and keeping him busy is taking his mind off of his own problems.”

  “Is he going to get in the way?”

  “I don’t think so,” Arthur replied. “I’m going to need his help, though. If Jeremy is indeed bringing in demons, then we’re going to need an exorcist. I intend to save these people that Jeremy is possessing, not kill them.”

  “OK, Arthur, but don’t do anything stupid. If Niccolo is becoming a liability then cut him loose before it is too late. Got it?”

  “I will.”

  He thought to mention to Frieda about bringing Desiree along, but quickly changed his mind.

  “What’s your plan?” she asked.

  “They need supplies for a ritual of summoning, and there are only a few dealers in the region who could help them with something like that. I’m going to talk to Mitchell and see if he’s heard anything. Hopefully I’ll find out where the kids are staying and put a stop to all of this before anything happens.”

  “Do you think Mitchell will know?”

  “I think he can find out.”

  “Alright. Keep me appraised.”

  “Will do. Stay safe.”

  “You too.”

  He hung up the phone and headed back across the driveway to the front door of his house. He steadied his breathing and pushed his emotions down. He was on a mission, which meant he didn’t have time to let his emotions cloud his judgment.

  It was time to face the piper.

  ◆◆◆

  Desiree and Niccolo were speaking quietly in the living room when Arthur opened the door and came inside, but they immediately stopped as he walked into the room. They turned and stared at him, concerned expressions on their faces.

  “I’m not going to explode.”

  They exchanged glances. “We know that,” Desiree said. “We’re just wondering…”

  “If I’ll fall apart?”

  This time they didn’t answer. Arthur focused only on the kitchenette off to his right. His heart was pounding in his chest and his breath came in short gasps as the scent of home overwhelmed him. It smelled old and musty, uncared for, but the hints of hardwood were still there.

  The floor of the kitchen was white linoleum, and it was impeccably clean now with no sign of the blood his family had spilled there. He saw them, though, in his mind’s eye. He saw their lifeless bodies on the cold and unforgiving floor, staring up at the ceiling.

  The emotional wave was intense and immediate, and he simply let it wash over him. The pain of loss threated to drown him, and he struggled to keep his head above it. Tears streamed down his cheeks, but he didn’t care. All he saw were their bodies.

  All he saw was his failure.

  He had no idea how long he stood there staring at the linoleum, but he realized it was a lot of time when he suddenly felt a tap on his shoulder. He jolted back to reality and brushed away at the tears streaming down his cheeks.

  “Arthur?” Niccolo asked, standing just behind him and to his left. “Are you alright?”

  “I’m fine,” he said, clearing his throat. “We need to get back on the road.”

  “Are you sure? We can take a minute—”

  He shook his head. “We don’t have time. Grab your things and let’s move.”

  ◆◆◆

  By the time they made it to Mitchell’s shop it was evening. The sky was getting dark early here this time of year, but the days were starting to get longer. Arthur loved winter in Ohio, though he disliked the volatility of the weather.

  Arthur hadn’t seen his brother in months. He hadn’t even talked to him on the phone in a couple of weeks. There was nothing to talk about, and they never called each other idly.

  That was the thing about family: they didn’t need to talk to each other to know that they were supported. His brother was a constant feature in his life, an anchor. He knew that Mitchell felt the same way.

  Of course, it didn’t help that Mitchell was also a stoner and useless much of the time.

  “This is your brother’s shop?” Desiree asked, clearly surprised as they pulled up to it. It was in an old strip mall that was mostly empty, especially at this time of day and while it was so cold outside. It had, in fact, been empty pretty much since Mitchell started peddling his wares to the occasional customer.

  There were only two cars in the parking lot, and that counted the one they had driven. This wasn’t a lull in the daily traffic, either: this was business as usual.

  “Yeah,” Arthur said. “This is his shop.”

  “It looks …”

  “Run down?”

  “I wasn’t going to say it like that, exactly.”

  “It’s OK,” Arthur said with a chuckle. “The store is more of a front business than anything else. Most of what Mitchell does is sell things to the Council, Church, and other collectors. He’s a registered dealer for the Vatican, which means most of his business comes from people like me.”

  “Ah.”

  “He’s also … well … uh … you’ll see.”

  Desiree raised an eyebrow at him, but she didn’t say a
nything. Arthur pushed open the door and the first thing he noticed — the same as every other time he came here — was the smell.

  Incense and smoke, but underneath was a strong hint of marijuana. A lot of it. That was the other reason Mitchell managed to stay in business, though Arthur was pretty sure he smoked more than he sold.

  “Oh …” Desiree said.

  “Is that…?” Niccolo began to ask, but just then the beaded curtain to the backroom was pushed aside and Mitchell rushed into the room. He was a little bit bigger than Arthur, though of a similar build. The only difference was that he was flabby and a little more rounded.

  “Sorry, I didn’t know I had custo —”

  He stopped midstream, eyes going wide when he saw his brother standing there between the other two; then, he grinned. He ran across the room and wrapped Arthur in a huge bear hug.

  “Arty!”

  “Mitchell,” Arthur replied with a groan, barely able to breathe.

  “What the heck are you doing here? This is a pleasant surprise.”

  “Not a social visit,” Arthur said, gently extricating himself from his brother’s embrace. “And we’re on a tight schedule. I just need to know if you’ve heard anyone buying stuff that might be used in a summoning ritual in the last couple of days.”

  “That’s pretty vague. There are a lot of summoning rituals.”

  “Black market stuff. Demons and organs.”

  Mitchell’s expression soured. “I don’t sell stuff like that.”

  “I know. But you know people who do. Look, Mitchell, I don’t care and I’m not trying to bust any of your friends, I just need to know if you’ve heard anything strange in the last couple of days, especially if it involves kids.”

  “Kids?”

  “Yeah. Kids.”

  Mitchell thought for a second. “No. Nothing that I can remember. But I can ask around if you want. Is this a part of what’s been going on with the Church?”

  “You’ve heard about that?”

  “Everyone’s heard about that. Lots of rumors, no details. Care to enlighten me?”

  “Would that I could.”

  Mitchell shrugged. “Oh well. The rumors are more interesting anyway. People are freaking out. You need this information now?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ll make some calls. Feel free to make yourselves at home. Just don’t break anything.”

  Then, he disappeared into the back room through the curtain of beads and out of sight. Arthur watched him go and then turned back to the other two with a shrug.

  Desiree was eyeing the meager wares. “What is there to break?”

  Arthur laughed. “Maybe his collection of glass pipes.”

  “Interesting guy,” Niccolo offered.

  “You have no idea.”

  They found some chairs in the corner of the room to sit down on. The shop was almost completely empty, the shelves barren except for a few random items scattered here and there. It was not the kind of place a normal person would likely take their wallet out the purchase things at. Mitchell had an incense display on the counter, but most of the incense was gone.

  Mitchell took about an hour in the backroom before finally reappearing.

  “Find anything?”

  “A lot of stuff,” Mitchell admitted. “Nothing in particular about items being sold, but my contacts are usually cagey with the details. I did hear something about an abandoned gas station that has been occupied for the last couple of months. Here’s the kicker: a little girl has been hiding out there. Twice social services were called, but nothing ever came of it. Rumor has it, authorities steer clear of the place.”

  “You’ve got an address?”

  “Of course.”

  “Thanks, Mitchell.”

  “No problem at all,” Mitchell said, handing Arthur a slip of paper. “That’s what brothers are for.”

  Chapter 7

  Jeremy wasn’t a huge fan of eating out at fast food restaurants, but there weren’t a lot of other options in the area. Akron was turning out to be a pathetic and low-brow place to live. He had enjoyed his life in Everett eating at the Bishop’s table, and his time spent in California was at least warm and comfortable.

  Boy, was Ohio cold.

  Miserably so. It wasn’t even like there was snow or some other redeeming quality to the winter weather, just the cold wind that numbed his cheeks and made his eyes water. He hadn’t really minded it when they first arrived, but it had since dropped nearly twenty degrees and stuck there.

  Crappy food and cold winters: that was Ohio. He’d lived in Everett for a long time, so he knew cold weather, but at least he’d had an expensive manor to live in and expensive food to eat.

  Fast food was all they had for every meal since he got to Ohio, and right now it was their dinner. He took a bite of his burger and chewed the cold beef slowly, wishing it was anything else.

  Of course, he was the only one who seemed to have trouble with it. Megyn, on the opposite end of the spectrum, seemed to love it. It made sense when he thought about it: while she was living with the cultists in the service station they had eaten a lot of canned food. Eating out was a luxury. While Jeremy was enjoying fresh fruit in California or expensive dinners with Leopold in Washington, Megyn had been eating scraps.

  The thought was somehow comforting.

  She ate two whole sandwiches and all of her fries, plus about half of his. Jeremy was morbidly fascinated at the disgusting way in which she gorged herself.

  Of course, she wouldn’t get to enjoy a lot of meals like this. Not unless they sped up their timeframe or found a way to make some extra money. Their budget wasn’t going to last them much longer.

  They were running low; they didn’t even have enough money for another night in a hotel room. They were heading back to the service station now to sleep for the night. He hated the thought of staying in that dingy dump, but there weren’t a lot of other options. They hadn’t even cleaned up the bodies, which meant by now the place smelled.

  He kicked himself for not taking anything off of the dead people back in the church. He’d been so wrapped up in the moment that he hadn’t even thought about their money situation. He didn’t want to let Megyn know that their funds were getting low, he just hoped that she would stop ordering so much damn food when they—

  “Sir,” the driver called out from the front seat. The car jerk to a stop and idled. They were almost back to the service station, maybe a quarter of a mile away.

  Jeremy set his sandwich on the faux leather seat beside him and leaned forward to look through the front windshield at the roadway ahead.

  He let out a gasp and narrowed his eyes. Parked in front of their home base was a vehicle that he recognized.

  The priest’s car.

  The one the priest drove away from the shipyard after murdering his father.

  “Bastards,” he growled, reaching for the door handle.

  “You shouldn’t engage with them,” the driver said, grabbing his arm to stop him. He had a fearful expression on his face.

  “I’m not going to engage with them. I’m going to kill them.”

  “It’s risky.”

  “It’s my decision.”

  He shook his arm to free it, but the demon didn’t release his grip.

  “Let me go.”

  “I can’t let you do this.”

  Jeremy attempted to extricate himself again, but still the demon held on. He was disgusted by such a cowardly demon. Leopold talked about the demons like they were a powerful force, subservient and loyal. All Jeremy learned about them was that they were just as weak as the humans they rode around in.

  “I’m going to kill them. It isn’t your decision.”

  “Your powers didn’t work on the hunter before. You said so yourself.”

  “They worked well enough, and now Megyn is with me,” he said, glowering at the demon. He could hardly believe that the creature was actually arguing with him. Its duty was to serve and act as a good l
ittle soldier.

  Bishop Glasser would have never gotten such disrespect from the creature.

  “It is too risky.”

  “I will decide if it is—”

  “He’s right,” Megyn interrupted, speaking to Jeremy. “We should just leave. We stayed there too long anyway. Father told us we should always keep moving, but I didn’t want to. It’s my fault they are there.”

  “What about all of our stuff. Our supplies?”

  “Our what?” Megyn asked.

  Jeremy ignored her, focusing instead on the demon.

  “It is in the trunk,” the demon said. He let go of Jeremy’s arm and put the car back into gear. “I’ve been keeping it close at hand in case something like this happened.”

  Jeremy was still furious and wanted nothing more than to charge into the service station and face the priest and his lackey head on. He wanted to kill the man so bad the rage made his eye twitch.

  He didn’t though, because it would be a waste of time. That was, at least, the rationality he used to calm himself down.

  He was scared. Not of the priest: he’d already dominated him once, but of the hunter. Arthur somehow resisted his mental influence, and getting away was sheer luck.

  Enemies weren’t the only thing Leopold had in the region, and there was another stop he needed to make. An old alliance that the Bishop made, and one he could call upon in times of need.

  This, he felt, was need enough.

  “Fine. We’ll deal with them another way.”

  ◆◆◆

  He stayed that night in the cramped backseat alongside Megyn, though he didn’t sleep much at all. It was cold and uncomfortable in the car and the wind howled outside. Megyn snored and tossed all night, making little moaning noises whenever she couldn’t get comfortable. It was distracting and he didn’t feel like he got any real rest at all.

  They parked a few miles away from the service station on a backroad and Jeremy found himself wide awake and staring at the carpeted ceiling of the smelly car. He’d been hoping to begin his preparatory rituals the previous evening and get everything ready for the upcoming summoning event, but instead he found himself on the run once more.

  He hated it. He hated being the one to run.