by Lincoln Cole
Things were finally moving in their favor and it wouldn’t be long until they had earned vengeance for their father against this petty little town.
So, why was Megyn still so depressed?
“Lighten up,” he said, swatting her arm and smiling at her. “We’re about to accomplish everything our father set out for us. We’re about to win.”
She winced away from him, drawn out of her reverie. “I didn’t realize…”
His smile evaporated. “Didn’t realize what?”
She hesitated. “That you…that we would have to kill so many people.”
“What did you think was going to happen? What did you honestly expect our plan to be? Were we just going to adopt kittens and puppies or something? Our Father taught you how to suffocate people until they are dead, and you knew he wasn’t showing you this so you could dance with unicorns. You knew what the plan would be.”
“This is different…”
“Different than what?”
“Than what he said—”
“It isn’t,” he insisted. “You just want it to be different because you are scared. This is exactly what we trained for all of these last years. This is what we prepared our minds to do, and now we are finishing it. You didn’t think we would kill people? Well this is war. People die. If not them, then it would be us.”
“Would it?”
“Of course it would. We are different, Megyn. You know what society does to those who are different.”
Megyn didn’t look convinced by his argument, which only annoyed Jeremy more. He could hardly believe that after all of the years preparing she still didn’t want to go through with this.
She never would have challenged Leopold like this.
He scoffed at her and waved his hand in dismissal. “I don’t get you. I don’t understand how you can claim to believe in our Father’s cause, but when push comes to shove you aren’t willing to follow through. I can’t believe you are so weak.”
“This wasn’t what our Father wanted,” she whispered. “He wanted to show the world who we are. Not just what we can do.”
“This is exactly what he wanted. He wanted revenge against the people that hurt him. He wanted to punish the heretics that stood against him, and he wanted to wake the world up to the fact that we exist and that we are powerful. All he ever wanted was a better future for us, and that means we have to take it by force.”
That had been something Leopold told him hundreds of times: the Bishop’s only goal was to make life better for his adopted children, no matter the cost. He gathered them together and taught them how to use their abilities.
In fact, his original plan when he first started this crusade had been to gather the children up and bring them to the Vatican to force the leaders of the church to open their eyes about the special gifts children like Jeremy and Megyn had. He intended to barter a better life for the children and a higher station for himself: the children would have been his ticket to becoming a Cardinal.
The loftier ambitions of garnering international attention hadn’t materialized until much later when Jeremy came into the picture. Jeremy had been the child that changed everything, and that was when he began working with the cult.
It had started as an information gathering alliance between him and The Ninth Circle to seek out more children across the globe, but then he discovered what Jeremy could do not only in manipulating people, but in helping lesser demons control their vessels they might otherwise be too weak to dominate.
Normally, Jeremy knew, it took an extensive amount of time and patience for a demon to take control of a host. Weeks, sometimes months of work, and even then it was never a guaranteed thing. The host and parasite would battle for dominance, and more often than not the host would win out. Not many demonic entities were strong enough to seize control on their own.
With Jeremy, though, everything changed. He could cow the human host into submission and help the demon to gain control, and when that control waned he could beat the human back to ensure the demon maintained control. He took a monumental task and trivialized it.
When Bishop Glasser discovered what he was capable of, his ambitions had skyrocketed and he developed a new plan, this time to wake the world up and achieve even greater glory. Not simply the Vatican and not for a seat at the table. He wanted something more.
The only problem was, Jeremy wasn’t sure what that something was.
Leopold had shown Jeremy minor pieces of plan and how to execute them, but he’d never told him what the endgame was. Punishment and revenge were byproducts, yes, but when Megyn attacked the church and hospital, he and Leopold were supposed to be well out of the country, either in Europe or India laying low.
And, none of that was supposed to happen until after they gathered that last stupid child in India.
The Bishop had turned away from Jeremy in the final months. His eyes were set on a younger boy who he claimed was the one. Haatim, a young Indian child, was the only person Leopold had talked about in those final days.
He had become the Bishop’s favorite, even though they had never met in person. Leopold had wasted months getting his family to come to Everett, hiding out in his manor and casting out his net. He had put all his plans on hold for him.
Perhaps the cult leader had been correct back at the salvage yard: maybe Leopold had changed his mind about the final attack; maybe he was abandoning his grand ambitions and he was planning something new using Haatim.
They would never know, and just thinking about it made Jeremy furious. If their father had changed the plan, then Jeremy should have been told about it. He should have been the one the Bishop trusted. Not some silly cultists in Ohio and not some little boy from India. They didn’t need that stupid Indian child, had never needed him. They didn’t need anything except the family they already had: they had their army, their plan, and the time to do what needed to be done.
Because of Leopold they had failed.
It was the first time Jeremy had admitted it to himself. Those words that encompassed the idea that the Bishop was the weak point of their family. Jeremy accepted it now. Just thinking about it made Jeremy feel sick, but he embraced it nonetheless.
The Bishop had been weak and a fool.
Jeremy wouldn’t follow in the footsteps of a weak man. He knew it subconsciously, but now he was aware consciously as well. Of course this wasn’t the Bishop’s plan, to kill these people and summon the army … Jeremy had just been lying to himself. This was his plan.
He would succeed where the arrogant old fool had failed.
“We will finish what our Father started,” he muttered. His voice slowly rose in volume and intensity. “We will finish the war and achieve even more than Leopold ever dreamed possible. He wanted us to be better than him, and we are.”
“We don’t need to do this—”
“People will die, Megyn,” Jeremy said, grabbing her chin and forcing her to meet his eyes. “What I need to know right now is whether or not you will be one of them. So, are you with me, or are against me?”
Megyn slid across the seat farther away from him, but he refused to let go. He held her chin, squeezing until he knew it was painful. “Jeremy, you’re hurting me…”
“I need to know if you will see this through. Tonight we will finish executing the Bishop’s plan for Ohio, and we will punish everyone who ever did him harm. They will try to stop us, so I need to know right now if you are going to help me or stand in my way. I need to know, Megyn, because I can’t stand around worrying about whether you have the stomach to honor our father.”
Megyn’s shaking hand slowly crept up to the door handle. Her chin quivered. “Jeremy … you’re scaring me.”
“Tell me right now, Megyn. Will you be at my side… or not?”
A long while passed. Finally, Megyn let out a sigh and lowered her hand from the door. He saw the submission in her eyes and he had won. Jeremy released his grip on her chin and there was a painful red mark where his hand had
been.
“Of course I will help you, Jeremy. I want this as much as you do…I just…”
He nodded. She slumped low in the seat. He had used the stick, now it was time for the carrot.
He took a deep breath. “I know what you mean, Megyn. I’m sorry to scare you. I know what you are dealing with, and I’m dealing with it too. It’s harder than we thought,” he lied. “But together we can do this. Once we finish at the Hospital we can move on and gather some of the other children. Our vengeance will be taken care of and we will be able to go on with our lives.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
She leaned across the car seat and gave him a hug. “Thank you.”
He hugged her back, patting her gently. “Always, little sister.”
◆◆◆
“Is the ash ready? It’s been burning for over an hour.”
“Yes,” the demon said. “It is ready. A small amount will be required for each demon we wish to summon, along with the other offerings.”
“Good. Then let’s get moving,” he said.
Megyn was fast asleep on the backseat of the car. She was exhausted and hadn’t been sleeping well, but that was to be expected. It would be a busy night, after all.
He still didn’t fully trust her, but right now he didn’t much care. Once he had his army summoned and ready to do his bidding, she would no longer matter.
He climbed into the front seat of the car next to the driver, holding the Tupperware container of ashes that the demon had prepared for him. It was mixed with the other ingredients to perform the summoning ritual, and each little scoop would bring one demon. They represented his future and everything that he knew he could achieve.
“Let’s go,” he said. “Time to finish this.”
Chapter 12
Frieda glanced over at the passenger seat of her little rental car at the little girl sitting next to her. She was second-guessing her decision to bring Abigail along on this early morning raid to grab Curtis.
Today they were finally going to collect the Vatican child. Mikael had called her the previous evening to tell them where to meet. Curtis had never actually hurt anyone, so she didn’t have to worry about dragging Abigail into danger.
Mikael wouldn’t be happy about her decision to bring Abi, which to be honest Frieda considered another bonus of having the little girl along. She was getting tired of dealing with Mikael and would be happy once she was finally rid of the arrogant priest.
“Remember when we get there that you have to stay in the car.”
“I know,” Abigail said, yawning. “I just stay in the car while you guys go inside.”
“And don’t leave the car.”
“Okay.”
“Abi, promise me you won’t leave the car.”
Abigail frowned at her. “I promise.”
Frieda worried that she was allowing Abigail to be a little too involved in her life as a hunter, but she felt it was important that Abigail understood what they were doing.
Of course, even staying in the car, Abigail could barely stop fidgeting. She drummed her fingers on the car door. She hadn’t even been difficult to wake up this morning around two o’clock. She was too excited that they were finally going to finish this job and be able to move on from their smelly hotel room. She had even been ready this morning before Frieda.
They were going after Curtis in his home. Mikael had trailed him back to his residence and determined that the best time to grab him would be in the early morning before anyone in the neighborhood was awake.
He was living in a rundown section of the city in a rent-controlled apartment that was registered under a false identity the Bishop had created. Most of the surrounding apartments were empty and unoccupied, unable to pass local inspections, and even if things went sideways they were still not likely to have any police interference.
When they pulled up to the meeting place she saw Mikael. He had ditched his usual garb for loose fitting black trousers and a navy-blue t-shirt. He walked up to her car as she parked in the alley, and then frowned when she saw that Abigail was inside with her.
“What is she doing here?”
“I don’t exactly have a babysitter.”
“Don’t worry, I’m just going to stay in the car,” Abigail said.
“She’ll be fine outside,” Frieda said.
“If you say so.”
“Are we ready?”
“Yes. Curtis is inside sleeping. This should be easy to grab and it shouldn’t take more than a couple of minutes.”
“Alright,” Frieda said. “Then, let’s do this.”
◆◆◆
Abigail tapped her fingers against the doorframe and made little popping noises with her teeth.
She pounded her hand against the armrest and let out a deep sigh.
“I am so bored!” she said to no one in particular.
She had promised Frieda that she would wait in the car, but she hadn’t really thought she would get left behind for this long. It had already been at least twenty minutes. Abigail had tried falling back asleep, but she was too excited.
Frieda and the church guy had left about ten minutes ago, heading toward an entrance around the front of the building. She didn’t know how long they would be gone, but she hoped they were almost done.
These last days had been spent just sitting in a hotel room and waiting. She had thought that being on a mission would be better than the normal time she spent with Frieda, since most of the time she just rode around in a car while they met with Hunters. They didn’t get to do anything or move around, just sit in a hotel room and wait for something to happen.
Frieda had told her she should take a nap while she was waiting, but she couldn’t sleep. Even if she didn’t get to come along when they actually went into the apartment and grabbed up Curtis, it was still a pleasant change to be included in—
Abigail suddenly spotted movement on the third floor of the building; one of the windows above the fire escape was opening.
She unbuckled herself and leaned forward, peering up at it. It was a dark night and there weren’t a lot of lights on in the city, so she didn’t know if maybe her eyes were just playing tricks on her.
The window shifted in its slot again before sliding up. A second later something came flying out the window, landing on the grated railway of the fire escape. It looked like a bag.
A moment later and a leg followed it out, followed by the rest of a body, and then the person stood up on the railing. He was scanning the area, frantic and jittery on the fire escape.
It was Curtis.
He picked up his bag and then ran along the fire escape toward the stairs leading down. He rushed down that first set to a lower level, and then rushed around to the drop ladder that went into the alley where Frieda’s car was parked.
Just as he reached the drop ladder, Frieda came scrambling out the window on the third floor. She rolled onto the railing, and leaned over the railing.
“He’s running!” she shouted back over her shoulder.
Then she rushed over to the stairwell leading down, giving chase. Curtis dropped from the ladder about five feet to land awkwardly on the ground.
Mikael was only now climbing out of the window behind Frieda.
Abigail hesitated for only a second before opening the car door. Curtis was a lot bigger than she was, but she could at least slow him down.
He was just reaching the ground when Abigail got out of the car, and he came running toward her.
“Hey, you!” she shouted, moving to intercept him.
Curtis tried to dodge her, but she caught the hem of his sweatshirt. He tried to shake her loose, but she kept a grip and got dragged along.
He stopped, grabbing her wrist to yank her free.
Only…
That didn’t happen.
Everything stopped instead, and it was as though time itself froze. Abigail and Curtis locked eyes, and she felt a rush of terror from him.
There was an intense and overwhelming feeling of hopelessness in the pit of Abigail’s stomach, and she almost fell to the ground. It was like a wave crashed over her, and all of the energy poured out of her body like a river. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, letting it pass over her.
Gradually, it subsided.
She heard a sobbing sound from the ground in front of her, and it took a second to realize Curtis was no longer touching her wrist. Suddenly, someone touched her shoulder. Frieda had a concerned expression on her face, but she wasn’t directing it at Abigail.
She was looking at the lump in front of Abigail. Curtis was lying there, curled into the fetal position and sobbing. His eyes were clenched closed and he was shaking and muttering to himself.
“What…what happened?” Abigail asked, bewildered.
She heard pounding footsteps and suddenly Mikael was standing there. He grabbed Abigail roughly, shaking her, and he had an angry look in his eyes.
“What did you do?”
“Let go of her,” Frieda said, stepping closer.
“You’re hurting me,” Abigail cried out. Mikael squeezed her arms very tightly and she winced in pain. “Let go of me!”
“What did you do to him?”
“Stop this at once!” Frieda ordered. “I won’t warn you again.”
Mikael ignored her. “Tell me! What did you do to Curtis? Why is he like that?”
Frieda snatched Mikael by the wrist and jerked him toward her. Mikael released Abigail’s arms and aimed an open-hand slap at Frieda’s face.
His blow never even came close.
Frieda stepped closer to him, blocking his strike with her arm, and then she punched him twice in the chest, knocking him back. She jabbed her fist into his throat, collapsing his air pipe. He stumbled back, clutching at his throat to draw a breath. Frieda stepped in closer.
