The Veritas

by Wendy Saunders

  ‘Anyway,’ Logan continued, ‘by the time I returned to Salem, most of the people I’d known were dead and Justin was an old man. There was a new leader of the Veritas, a man named Jonathan Faraday.’

  ‘I’ve heard that name before,’ Olivia frowned, ‘but surely that can’t be right. If it’s the same Faraday who’s in charge of the Veritas now that would make him almost as old as you.’

  ‘It is the same man,’ Logan nodded, ‘I know that for certain. I don’t know how he’s lived this long, but then again I can say the same thing about me.’

  ‘Faraday had the prophecy then?’

  ‘Justin helped me to retrieve it, although it cost him his life,’ Logan looked unbearably sad. ‘I buried my friend that night and then I took the prophecy to Sam. I’d seen the kind of man Faraday was, I’d seen how he’d twisted what Justin and I had created into something sinister and dangerous. I consoled myself with the fact he no longer had the prophecy but what I didn’t know was that he’d had a secret copy made and placed in his private vault.’

  ‘He has a copy of the prophecy?’

  ‘That’s why he needs Theo,’ Logan replied. ‘The prophecy is incomplete and in an ancient language only my mother could translate.’

  ‘Theo is a seer, just like your mother,’ Olivia breathed, ‘lately… he’s…’

  ‘He’s been seeing a weird language everywhere,’ Jake realized. ‘They think he can complete and translate the prophecy, don’t they?’

  ‘Yes,’ Logan replied slowly, ‘and if Faraday gets his hands on the completed copy of the prophecy, it means the Veritas will find the Book of the Heavens.’

  24

  Sam chewed thoughtfully and swallowed. He glanced around the confines of his room, his mind once again wandering. It had been days since his confrontation with his father, days since Thomas had murdered that poor innocent child because he refused to bed her.

  He’d half expected him to send another but there had been nothing, a fact for which Sam was grateful. He certainly wasn’t in any rush to witness his father take another innocent life when he refused him once again. He’d rather cut off his own dick than father a child for Thomas to raise as a monster.

  He’d had to admit though, as he finished his meal and pushed the plate away, although he was glad his father seemed to be ignoring him for the time being, it almost brought with it a sense of unease. It was like existing on a knife edge; the sense of dread anticipation was gnawing at every last nerve he had. He hadn’t heard from Tyrel either, not since he’d sent him to find Julien.

  Julien.

  He’d been his trusted friend for as long as he could remember. He’d been so loyal to Sam; he’d got himself banished to Earth so he could spend two thousand years watching over Scarlett for him. He owed him so much, but he hadn’t told him the whole truth. There had never been a good time. He’d needed him focused on Scarlett not on revenge against his father and Marcus. So, he’d compartmentalized the information; it had been a judgement call.

  Now he’d run out of time. He needed Julien’s help and once again he must ask too much of his friend. Only this time he would have to know the truth, he owed him that much. He only hoped that Julien would forgive him.

  He threw his head back as he drained the wine from his glass. It tasted bitter on his tongue, not at all its usual robust flavor. He almost laughed; was this his father’s idea of pettiness? Sending him substandard wine? He could send him piss to drink and he still wouldn’t capitulate to his father’s demands.

  He stood slowly and stretched his legs as he walked back and forth. After being trapped within these four walls, he longed for the sky above him, vast and endless, and the breeze cool and playful against his skin.

  He staggered slightly and glanced down, wondering if he’d tripped on something. His thoughts felt slow and sluggish, his mind chaotic and unsettled. He looked up as the door opened and a lush curvy woman entered, rather than the thin po-faced servant he was used to.

  ‘Who are you?’ Sam snapped.

  ‘Lorna,’ she replied, her voice low and musical. ‘I was sent to gather your empty tray.’

  ‘You’re not the usual servant,’ Sam’s eyes narrowed.

  ‘He was called away,’ she replied quietly. Rather than looking away, her eyes were locked on him, watching him closely.

  ‘What are you…?’ the room suddenly tilted and swayed alarmingly.

  He staggered and blinked, feeling soft feminine arms around his waist steadying him.

  ‘Are you feeling unwell?’ her voice whispered, too close.

  ‘Get out,’ he shoved her away, losing his balance as he stumbled, falling heavily against the table sending his plate and glass to the floor with a loud clatter and crash of breaking glass.

  ‘What did you do?’ He looked up at her through blurry eyes, unable to focus.

  ‘Nothing, my lord,’ she cooed softly. ‘You are feeling unwell, perhaps you should lie down.’

  His head spun around and around; he couldn’t get a grip on anything. The next thing he knew he was falling back against the soft bed.

  ‘Get out,’ he pushed out with his arms, but met only air.

  ‘I’m here to take care of you,’ he felt warm breath gusting against his ear, ‘just relax.’

  He blinked again, trying to focus. He could see a female figure standing beside his bed. She untied the sash of her robe and let it slither to the floor without a wisp of sound, standing before him lush and ripe with full pink tipped breasts and curved, womanly hips. Even through his blurred vision he could see the dark patch of hair between her thighs.

  ‘No,’ his tongue felt swollen and numb, and the word came out as an unintelligible mumble.

  He could feel her hands on his skin, loosening his clothes and tracing his flesh. His skin crawled, but his body felt so heavy, like he was paralyzed. He felt her wrap her hand around the most intimate part of him, stroking him firmly as his body betrayed him and he hardened in her hand.

  ‘NO!’

  He tried to lift his arms to push her away, but he felt the bed dip with her weight as she climbed on top of him. The last thing he remembered was a rhythmic rocking as the darkness took him.

  Nausea rose bright and sharp, before he was even fully conscious. His eyes flew open as he rolled over and vomited violently. Sam gripped the side of the bed and heaved until the entire remaining contents of his stomach were expelled onto the floor. His mind flitted back to the last thing he remembered, to the violation of his body and he heaved again, and again. He heaved until his eyes watered and his ribs ached.

  ‘Take it easy,’ a familiar voice spoke softly, but there was a sense of urgency in her tone.

  Sam looked up through bloodshot eyes and saw Aalia holding out a glass of water. Taking it with trembling hands he sipped slowly to ease the burning in his throat.

  ‘It’s okay,’ Aalia soothed him, ‘you may feel a little disorientated. I had to burn whatever it was they gave you out of your blood stream and your body tried to naturally purge the rest. I think I got most of it, but you might still feel a little dizzy. Can you stand?’

  ‘I think so,’ Sam pushed himself up. As his vision began to clear he saw a naked, dark haired woman lying on the ground unconscious, surrounded by what looked like the remnants of a large ornamental vase.

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘I arrived to see her…’ Aalia’s gaze dipped uncomfortably to his lap as her cheeks flushed, with embarrassment or anger he couldn’t tell.

  He looked down and found himself exposed, still half erect and wet. He choked down another wave of nausea, this time followed by a deep sense of shame and disgust. He shoved himself roughly back into his pants and tied the drawstring tightly.

  ‘Anyway,’ Aalia replied as she reached out and helped him up, ‘I knocked her out, but we need to move now!’

  ‘What’s going on?’ Sam stumbled across the room with Aalia helping him, as he avoided looking at the woman on the floor.

&nbs
p; There was the unmistakable sound of a scuffle behind the door followed by a loud thud. Suddenly the door swung open and Tyrel stood in the doorway.

  ‘Good you have him,’ he looked at the naked woman on the floor and his eyes darkened, as his gaze flicked to Sam. ‘Are you alright?’

  Sam swallowed hard.

  ‘Let’s just get out of here.’

  They hurried out into the hall to find the two guards slumped against the wall. A long fresh streak of blood was smeared down the wall, and Julien was wiping his knife clean on a dead guard’s uniform. He stood up and stared at Sam long and hard, his pale blue eyes unreadable.

  ‘We need to get out of here,’ Tyrel looked to Julien, ‘there’s something I have to show Sam first. Take Aalia, you know where to meet us?’

  Julien tore his accusing eyes away from Sam and nodded sharply. He gripped Aalia’s arm gently, a gesture at odds with the fierce look on his face, and they both disappeared.

  ‘Where are we going?’ Sam asked with a sinking feeling.

  ‘You’ll see,’ Tyrel replied gravely.

  Sam felt Tyrel grip his arm much as Julien had done with Aalia and the hallway shimmered around them and disappeared.

  It was dark and cool, the ground felt rough beneath Sam’s bare feet and his skin pebbled beneath the thin muslin pants and tunic he wore. There was a faint light source somewhere in the distance, but he couldn’t pinpoint its location. It was dull, a kind of sooty orange color rather than natural daylight.

  ‘Where are we?’ he asked quietly.

  ‘An in-between place,’ Tyrel answered, ‘at the very edge of the void between worlds. Somewhere you could hide something, and the last place anyone would ever think to look.’

  ‘You found something?’

  Tyrel turned to face Sam more fully, his eyes troubled.

  ‘Sam,’ he began, shaking his head slightly, ‘I’m sorry. When we found out what Thomas was planning, we tried to get to you as quickly as we could.’

  Sam closed his eyes against the sudden flash of the woman’s skin, pressed against his, the sickly floral scent of her perfume and his stomach roiled again.

  ‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ Sam’s face hardened, ‘ever.’

  Tyrel nodded.

  ‘What was it you wanted to show me?’ he changed the subject.

  ‘This way,’ Tyrel nodded to the left, ‘it’s not far.’

  They clambered over boulders and rocky terrain, climbing higher until they were able to look out over the flattened ground beneath the rocky outcropping they were concealed behind.

  The smoky glowing light was coming from lit braziers, hundreds and hundreds of them. But it wasn’t just that, a long thin winding flow of lava churned slowly down the mountain to the East and ran across the black floored valley to fall off the edge, a lava waterfall spilling endlessly down into the well of nothingness below.

  Spread out on the plain below were what looked to be bodies, naked bodies glistening in the flickering smoky light and standing in tight formations like an army.

  ‘Come on,’ Tyrel whispered, ‘we need to get closer.’

  They crept behind the rocks, climbing down steadily until they were close enough to see rows upon rows of naked men, their heads shaved, their bodies exposed and their expressions vacant.

  Sam almost closed his eyes and turned away from their exposed bodies. His own violation at the front of his mind, he felt distinctly uncomfortable staring at their naked bodies and exposed genitals. They didn’t seem concerned, they made no move to cover their nakedness, no sign they even cared. They just stared straight ahead.

  ‘They’re human,’ Sam scowled, ‘what’s wrong with them?’

  ‘Vacant vessels,’ Tyrel replied in disapproval, ‘their souls are gone. You’re looking at the perfect soldier, obedient, competent and ultimately disposable.’

  ‘Where did they come from?’

  ‘Your father,’ Tyrel replied darkly. ‘Come on, there’s more.’

  They crept once again through the darkness, although Sam wondered why they were bothering. The humans didn’t seem to notice or care if they were there or not.

  They kept moving for quite some time. Sam followed along behind Tyrel and after a while it seemed like they were climbing upward again. Finally, they slowed and as they made it to the peak they crawled on their bellies across the sharp uneven ground to the edge of a precipice and looked down.

  Down at the bottom, spreading out for miles and miles, were formation after formation of human soldiers, all clothed in heavy boots, dark underclothes and closely fitting black armor. Each had a black handprint printed across their closed mouths and each carried a wicked looking weapon.

  Down at the front of the nearest unit of soldiers, marched a huge beast of a man. Even from this distance, Sam recognized the black hair and beard, and the scar which ran from his hairline, down through his eye socket to his cheek and disappeared into his thick beard. One of his eyes was a dark cold hard brown and the other, on the scarred side of his face was pure white.

  ‘Jairus,’ Sam growled low in his throat.

  ‘Yes,’ Tyrel replied with just as much venom in his voice. ‘It seems he’s been in charge of Thomas’s little science project.’

  ‘You don’t amass an army like this overnight,’ Sam stared at the hordes of men below. ‘This takes years and years to plan.’

  ‘It seems that Thomas has been planning this for quite some time,’ Tyrel told him slowly. ‘His army is almost ready and then, it will mean war. I fear there is no way to stop it now.’

  ‘This won’t be a war,’ Sam replied quietly as he stared out at the hundreds of thousands of men below stretching way out into the distance, ‘… it will be a massacre.’

  25

  Scarlett pulled on her new boots and smoothed down her jeans. Rising to her feet, her heels clicked across the wooden floor as she stopped in front of the full-length mirror. She stood, staring at her reflection; she didn’t look any different. Her injuries were all fully healed, Issac had been very thorough, he hadn’t left a single mark on her.

  Except for her wings.

  She rolled her shoulders experimentally a few times feeling the painful ache right down to the bones. She knew she should be exercising them every day to have any hope of regaining full use of them but the few occasions she’d tried it had been a disaster. She could barely hold the weight of them, and it was too lowering to ask for help. She hated anyone seeing her weaknesses, even Olivia.

  Pushing aside all thoughts of her damaged wings, she reached down to the chair placed next to the mirror and grabbed her hoodie, slipping her arms through it and zipping it up.

  She must be crazy for volunteering for this. She’d healed well enough, her strength had returned, with the exception of the wings. She was in good shape, physically at least.

  Her gaze dropped briefly to her flat belly and she shook her head silently.

  Issac was wrong, he had to be. There was no way she could be pregnant; it just wasn’t possible… okay it may have been slightly possible. After all the years she’d spent on Earth in the medical professions, she knew enough to at least to guess that angels and Sentinels had enough commonalities in their genetic make-up that a cross species pregnancy was theoretically possible, but it had never happened before as far as she knew.

  She didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t want to think about the responsibilities of bringing a child into the world… into her life. Especially as she was about to spend whatever there was left of it, on the run. She’d already come to a decision in the past forty-eight hours. She’d go to London with Olivia and help her find Theo, but after that she was going to disappear, this time for good. She’d spent the last two thousand years planning for this.

  She owed Olivia and Theo; they’d been good to her and they’d saved her life. Although she still wasn’t a hundred percent convinced that they’d done her a favor, it was done and she didn’t like to be in debt to anyone.

&nb
sp; So, she’d go to London, she’d find Theo and get both him and Olivia back safely then she would be able to disappear with a clean conscience. She knew they wanted her to stay, Julien wanted her to stay… hell even Metatron wanted her to stay, although she hadn’t told a soul about her encounter with him, but she was sick and tired of everyone else deciding her fate.

  A part of her had been touched that Sam, even after everything that had happened between them, had made sure Julien was there with her on Earth to watch over her. When she’d found out it had seemed like such a sweet protective gesture but after uncovering secrets upon secrets of Sam’s she was starting to wonder if she’d ever really known him at all.

  She felt like a puppet and she’d be damned if she was going to let everyone go on pulling her strings. She was going to cut them once and for all. Besides, she wasn’t convinced that Olivia’s house was safe. If the humans had found a way to penetrate her magical wards, it was only a matter of time before the angels and the Sentinels did too. She wasn’t about to sit around waiting for them to come for her.

  She glanced down at her watch; it was almost time.

  She took a deep breath; she could do this. The Veritas, although dangerous were still just humans. Logan or Elias or whatever the hell he wanted to call himself had convinced Olivia and the others he knew the secret location of the Veritas headquarters deep in the heart of London. She wasn’t sure if she trusted him, but at this point she couldn’t see that they had any other option.

  Her eyes closed briefly; it had been a long time since she’d last been in England. She’d loved it there. For a time, London had been her home, but then again it had been a different era. London had been so exciting back then, the height of Victoria’s reign, the discoveries of the Royal College of Surgeons, the birth of the underground transit system, the theatres, the parties, the balls. It wasn’t like that anymore. Back then everything had been so much simpler.

  Still, there wasn’t any point in mourning the past or the friends she’d left behind due to their mortal lifespans. She had to stay focused, get to London, get Theo, that was it. After that she’d be free.