by David Beers
Luke saw her nearly perfectly—seeing more like a jungle cat than a human.
How well can you see? he wondered.
The Priestess didn’t reach to the light switch, didn’t move at all as she looked at him.
“Yuh-You’re awake?”
Luke smiled, the moonlight gleaming off his teeth. “Yes.”
“You were waiting on me?”
“Yes.”
She turned her face and looked out his bedroom window, seeing the vast expanse of his lawn. He knew she was considering running; she hadn’t figured Luke would be ready. After a second, she looked back to him.
Luke watched her come, impressed with her speed and strength. He let himself fall into The Priestess’s darkness without a single cry.
CHAPTER 13
T ommy looked across the floor to Luke’s office. He glanced down at his watch, and then returned to staring at the empty room.
It was noon and Luke was nowhere to be seen.
Tommy stepped out of his own office and took the corridor down to Christian, not bothering to knock as he entered.
“Have you heard from Luke?”
Christian, for maybe the first time, wasn’t staring at his screen with the intensity it might take to crack Russia’s nuclear arsenal. He sat with his chair turned around, looking out the office window. They were only on the third floor, but it wasn’t the worst view in the world.
“Luke? He’s not in his office?” Christian said, not turning around.
“No, genius. That’s why I’m down here. Has he called you?”
Christian shook his head.
“He’s not answering his phone.”
Christian didn’t move.
“Hello? Earth to Christian? Are you listening to me at all?”
Finally, the kid swiveled his chair. “Alice is your girlfriend, right?”
“What? What are you talking about? I’m saying Luke isn’t here and he isn’t answering his phone. Why are you asking about Alice?”
“How did you know she was your girlfriend, like when it first happened?”
Tommy stepped further into the office and closed the door behind him. “Hey, man. Are you okay?”
Christian nodded.
“Then if that’s true, I need you to focus on what I’m saying. We need to go to Luke’s house and see where the hell he is.”
“Okay,” Christian said. He stood up, grabbed his jacket, and walked by Tommy.
“The hell?” Tommy whispered as Christian left the office. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Christian with such a care-free attitude, especially not with a possible problem arising. Sure, Luke being late to work wasn’t the eve of World War III, but it also wasn’t something that happened. And him not answering his cell either? Tommy didn’t like it.
He followed Christian to the elevator, stepping on with him. Other people were riding down as well, so Tommy remained quiet until they stepped off and exited the building.
“What’s going on with you?”
“I think I might have a girlfriend,” Christian said.
Tommy stopped, a smile coming over his face despite Luke’s absence. “You serious? Someone wants to date you?”
“She kissed me.”
“Jesus. What’s her name?”
“You won’t believe me.”
“Let me hear it,” Tommy said.
“It’s Veronica.”
“Lopez?”
Christian nodded.
Tommy stared for a few more seconds and then started walking to his car. “You’re right. I don’t believe it.”
They both climbed into Tommy’s vehicle and he started toward Luke’s house.
“So she kissed you, huh?”
“Yeah, on Friday.”
“Have you called her since?”
Christian shook his head.
“You’re kidding.”
“No. We don’t call each other until Friday afternoon.”
“Oh, dear God,” Tommy said, unable to stop smiling. “Was that your first kiss?”
“Yes.”
He sighed. “That changes things. You need to call her as soon as possible. You don’t kiss a woman and then go a whole weekend without communicating with her. It sends the signal that you’re not interested.” He looked over at Christian. Terror had grown across his face like a weed. “Hey, calm down. If she’s in to you enough to kiss you, then she’s gotta know you’re a weird guy. I’m sure she knows you like her. I’d just give her a call tonight, if I were you.”
They arrived at Luke’s house about twenty minutes later. The gate was closed, so Tommy rolled his window down and pressed the buzzer.
No answer.
“I don’t feel good about this,” he said. He looked at Christian, the kid finally focusing on something other than his new girlfriend.
“Me either,” Christian said.
Tommy left the keys in the car but stepped out, Christian following from the passenger’s side. Tommy saw no movement inside the home, and the curtains were all open, giving him a good view of the interior. Luke was nowhere to be seen.
“We need to get in,” Christian said.
“What are you thinking?” Tommy trusted the kid’s instincts, perhaps even more than Luke’s. Certainly more than his own—and he trusted himself a whole hell-of-a-lot. Right now, his instincts said something was very wrong here.
“His car’s gone.” Christian pointed at the empty driveway.
Tommy stepped forward and pulled on the gate. It was a single structure, sliding in only one direction; there wasn’t a split in the middle where the two might have been able to squeeze through. The gate didn’t move at all.
“Alright, I’m going to pull my car up. We’ll get on the front bumper and I’ll shove you over the top. I’ll come after.”
They did as he suggested, with Tommy landing hard on the other side of the fence, rattling his knees. He was too heavy for these acrobatics.
“You need to exercise more,” Christian said without looking at him.
“I had to throw your ass over.”
They went to the front door, but they didn’t even have to twist the knob. It stood slightly ajar. Tommy said nothing, but flipped the latch on his holster and pulled his gun out, hearing Christian do the same.
They walked through the house, clearing each room, neither saying anything. If Luke was here, he would know who was in his house; if anyone else had entered—Tommy didn’t want to alert them.
The two reached Luke’s room.
Tommy pulled his cell phone out, and without thinking, dialed 9-1-1.
“This is Special Agent Thomas Phillips with the FBI. We have a missing agent, Luke Titan. House location: 1946 Trinity Lane.”
He listened as the dispatcher asked questions, staring at the dried blood across Luke’s white pillow case.
CHAPTER 14
L uke opened his eyes. He’d been conscious for some time, but his head hurt and he had known light would intensify the pain.
The Priestess had arrived, though, and she deserved an audience.
He sat in the same metal prison where Ryan Goleen had met his end.
A woman stood in front of Luke. Her hair was long and scraggly. She was a skinny thing, though Luke hadn’t forgotten how easily she scaled his fence the previous night. Skinny she may be, but lacking muscle she wasn’t. Her eyes were brown. She wore a white t-shirt and a pair of jeans that looked like she needed another twenty pounds just to hold them up.
“A pleasure, I’m sure,” Luke said. He didn’t wince, though the overhead light caused pain to flare inside his head.
“Huh-how did you know I would be there last night?” the woman asked, her lips barely moving as she spoke—like if she opened her mouth too wide, all her words might simply spill out, leaving her unable to speak.
“I saw you watching me.”
“When?”
“Quite a few times, actually. I’d venture to say all of them.”
The Priestess said no
thing, only stood in front of Luke as if measuring his words for their weight in truth.
“Thuh-thuh-there’s something wrong with you,” she said after a moment.
“Isn’t that true for all of us?”
The woman shook her head, but Luke knew she wasn’t answering him. She saw Luke, but that shake was for her. She stared for another second and then turned around. She pulled open the metal door easily, enough for her to bend and slip underneath it, then Luke watched as it closed, hearing a lock hit home outside.
He didn’t make a single noise, but closed his eyes again, blocking out the bright lights from above.
This was going to be very, very interesting.
LUCY DIDN’T GO HOME.
She walked to the car that she’d driven here, the one that had been sitting in Titan’s driveway. She took it last night, throwing him in the trunk. Hers was parked five miles away from Titan’s house. She’d put it in a ditch off a main road. Lucy had thought she might have to carry the man back, but she ended up taking his car instead.
A dangerous move, if someone were to see it. Lucy couldn’t worry about that right now, though. She was too concerned with Luke Titan.
Lucy sat on the hood of the hundred thousand dollar car with no thought of its value.
The man inside the storage unit was very different than she expected. Lucy wasn’t sure exactly what to do, only that she didn’t like being around him. Lucy wasn’t frightened of anyone—no one in this life, besides her father. When he died, Lucy had no need to fear anyone, and everything he taught her stuck. God was the only thing deserving her fear.
Yet, when she looked at the man inside the storage unit, she felt fear.
Real and horrible, like with her father when she was younger. Fear that the man could hurt her in indescribable ways. Perhaps even ways that would damn her eternal soul, though she knew how silly that sounded. She’d given her soul to Christ and no one could take it from Him.
Yet, she didn’t want to go back in there.
Was he the Devil, or a demon? And if so, what was Lucy supposed to do?
She closed her eyes and ground her teeth together, harder and harder until her jaw creaked.
God wasn’t answering. He shared not a single word of what her next steps should be.
Lucy was alone with the Devil. She couldn’t stop, though, couldn’t let that evil thing keep her from her purpose—which was to bring Christian Windsor forward. No wonder this evil creature had taken glory from Christian—he’d been trying to steal glory from God on high since the dawn of time.
“Give me the strength to do what needs to be done. In Jesus’s name. Amen.”
She stood from the car and pulled the padlock key from her pocket. Lucy walked back to the storage unit and went inside, intent on sacrificing this demon for her Lord and her soon-to-be-savior, Christian.
“THAT WAS FAST,” Luke said.
“Hush, serpent.”
Luke wanted to smile, but knew that would be foolish.
“Christian Windsor, is he the second coming?”
“Get behind me, Satan,” the woman said. She moved past Luke’s chair, but he didn’t turn to look at her, only listening as she grabbed something.
“What do you plan to do with me?”
“What the Lord was too gracious to do five thousand years ago.”
The Priestess laid a bag down ten feet in front of Luke and then went behind him again. She dragged a long piece of wood across the floor, laid it next to the bag, and then went back to the well of gifts apparently resting at the back of the unit.
Another piece of wood was brought forward, followed by a bucket, and then a large sack of cement mix.
“Oh, that’s good,” Luke said, seriously impressed. “You strung Mr. Goleen up, but me, well you’re actually going to crucify me, is that right?”
“Something like that, serpent. But, you won’t go as my Lord did. I think I’ll crucify you upside down.”
“You truly are your master’s servant,” Luke said.
“We are all the Lord’s servants.” The woman was bent over the bag, pulling out tools. Clearly she had thought this through, as she pulled out twelve-inch metal nails, as well as a large hammer.
“You’ll want to be careful not to split the wood when you put those in,” Luke said. “It might be more difficult than you imagine. How are you planning on going about it?”
The girl said nothing.
“It would be easiest if you were to nail the wood together, then with the cross lying inside the bucket, harden the cement. You can nail me to it after. I promise not to struggle.”
The Priestess looked up, her eyebrows twitching rapidly and her mouth twisted in an awful snarl. “Sh-shut your mouth or I’ll cut your tongue out.”
Luke nodded and remained silent as the woman placed one piece of wood over the other.
“If you go through with this right now, you’ll waste a grand opportunity,” he said as she lifted the hammer above the nail. She stopped mid swing, but didn’t look over to him. “What better way could you honor Christian, than to have his mother watch my death?”
Slowly the Priestess tilted her face up. Her eyebrows were still and her lips thin.
“I can tell you where she lives, and you can bring her here. She can witness what you’re doing for her son.”
CHAPTER 15
C hristian stood in Luke’s bedroom as FBI techs worked around him. Tommy was in the living room, answering questions for investigators. They would come to him next, Christian knew, and he didn’t want to consider the answers he’d have for them.
It’s not the Priest, he thought as he stared at one of the techs slowly removing the pillow from its case. The blood covering it was curved like a smile, as if laughing at him with dark, red lipstick.
It’s not the Priest.
Six months ago felt like a lifetime, yet Christian was realizing how foolish he’d been. How foolish the lot of them had been, acting as though just because the murders stopped, that the nightmare was over. He’d gone on with his life, ignoring everything that had happened. Ignoring the promise he made to a grieving woman, ignoring the fact that he could no longer venture inside his mansion because he was too goddamn scared.
Luke and Tommy went along with it because the cases kept coming in.
Christian went along with it because he couldn’t stand the actual truth. Someone was murdering because of him—and maybe his mother was right, maybe that didn’t make him guilty, but facts were still facts, and Luke’s blood now shouted them from that pillow case.
“Christian?”
He turned around. Tommy was standing next to a young, black man.
“This is Agent Bench.”
“Call me Perry,” the agent said. “Can we talk for a few minutes?”
Christian nodded and walked out of Luke’s bedroom.
They went to the living room and sat on two opposite couches. Christian had sat here countless times, with Luke on the other side. Not now, though.
“I want to let you know that this is personal for me,” Perry said. “I don’t know Dr. Titan, but that doesn’t matter—he’s one of us.”
Christian nodded, hearing the man, but not caring about what he said.
“When was your last conversation with Dr. Titan?”
“Last Friday.”
“Do you mind recounting what was said?”
Christian went through the questions on autopilot, his mind feeding him answers.
Finally, the agent stood, shook his hand, and walked off. Christian didn’t move, but stared at the coffee table. He didn’t look up when Tommy approached and sat next to him.
“I’ve heard of Bench. He’s a solid agent … I just got off the phone with Waverly. He’s mobilizing everything within his power. We’ll find him.”
“Six months ago,” Christian started, not entirely sure where he’d finish, but knowing it was important to tell someone this, “I tried to go in my mansion. I wanted to look at the Pries
t, understand him and what he wanted. Something was waiting for me, though. Something foreign. There shouldn’t be anything in there, Tommy, not in my head, not in that place. I haven’t gone back in, and when the murders stopped … I haven’t needed to use it since.”
Tommy was quiet. Christian understood that Tommy didn’t fully grasp what he was saying. Hell, maybe Christian didn’t either.
“I don’t want to go back in there now, but that room is waiting for me. The voice, too. Whatever it is, it’s still there.”
“Christian,” Tommy said, “I need you to be a little more concrete with what you’re saying. It’s not making much sense.”
Christian looked up from the coffee table. “The Priest did this, and if I don’t go back inside my mansion, Luke’s going to die. But, if I do go back, I’m afraid I’ll lose my mind.”
CHRISTIAN’S MOTHER, Patricia Windsor, was washing dishes when the person called the Priest came for her. She enjoyed washing dishes; there was a meditative quality to it.
She usually did it in the afternoon, when the sun was starting its descent and shining in through the kitchen window. When it was warm out, she’d open the window and soak up some of the rays. Today, though, she wasn’t finding her normal peace in the chore. Patricia was worrying about her son, Christian.
Of course, when he was around, she never showed a single ounce of worry. Since he was a toddler, she’d known it was necessary for her to always look confident in what she did; it was necessary, for his sake, that she hide any feelings of fear. Patricia wasn’t a superhero, though, and she worried just like anyone else. Now, though, with much of her life behind her, she worried more and more about her son.
He hadn’t called yesterday and that was unusual. Nothing to panic about, she understood his job was demanding in a way that others weren’t. Still, mid-afternoon and she hadn’t heard from him yet.
“Why don’t you just call him, then?” she said to the empty kitchen.
Not a bad idea, and something she probably should have done hours ago, rather than stand here and ruin a perfectly good dishwashing session.
