by Maggie Mundy
The beads caused so much pain and yet his fingers were unharmed. Why did God want him to suffer? Hadn’t he suffered enough at the hands of those he trusted? He should not let such thoughts cloud his mind. The leaders of the church were the guilty ones. God would never reject him. It was the church that didn’t understand. Times were changing and God had chosen him to herald the change.
He should stop thinking of himself. There were others suffering more. Jane’s room was next to his, and she still cried herself to sleep each night. The sun was up and this would be the worst time for her. The demon appeared stronger and made her suffer more in the day. Gabriel envied her. Though its presence tortured her mind there was a strong connection.
God worked in mysterious ways. Finding Jane standing on the steps of the seminary on the day of his expulsion was a sign. He had listened and offered help. At first he considered she would be his salvation and killing her would help increase the visions. It had always done so in the past. Now there was a link between them, not of love but of ownership, she was meant to be his. God had given her to him. He couldn’t afford to lose her, so he drained her slowly of her blood, and it helped him.
The blood increased the visions of the woman called Nicole. Gabriel had grabbed onto Nicole’s thoughts the night before and sensed the loss of her guardian, and her awe at seeing a new angel. Her mind had shown him a mural on a building near her. He recognized it from the Mission District. The word ridge, kept coming into his mind, but he didn’t know what it meant yet. There had been an explosion in the Mission District reported on the television. He assumed there might be some connection.
He opened his curtains and let the light of the day touch him. It warmed his skin and took away the chill of night. This life was taking its toll. His hair was already grey and yet he was only thirty. Shadows were appearing beneath his eyes, and lines deepened across his brow. To be nondescript could be used to an advantage though. You could walk down a street and no one would recall you. This could be a particular bonus when you were near a crime scene where a body might be found. He dressed in black as always, even though the white collar had been denied him. If he could not be distinctive in the crowd as a priest, he would prefer to be unseen.
He hesitated outside Jane’s room, but only for a moment before he knocked and entered. Her room was dark. A candle had almost burnt down to its wick on the saucer on her bedside table. It gave enough light to lead Gabriel to her side. Even in the darkened room he could sense the malevolence of the demon, like a shadow making his skin crawl.
“Jane. You mustn’t do this to yourself.” He wanted to shake her to make her see what a gift she had, but she had become so thin she might have snapped. “I’ll care for you. I won’t let you go back to your life on the streets selling yourself to get drugs to remove this affliction. It won’t make you kill again. I’ll find you an angel somehow. Till then I’ll protect you here.” He sat on the edge of her bed and reached for her hand but she moved it away and clutched it to her chest.
“I know you believe me, Gabriel. You must make him go. I can’t do what he wants. What he made me do to the tramp. He wants me to kill again. He’s telling me to kill you by creeping into your room while you sleep. He knows my family, he’ll make me go back there and kill them. I keep seeing my little sister. She’s covered in blood and I’m holding a large knife. I don’t want to do those things. Please, Gabriel. I don’t want to hurt you or anybody. Kill me.” The sobs grew louder and her whole body shook.
“You know I can’t do such a thing but I will find a way to free you. God cannot have given you the gift of seeing this other being, and giving me the thoughts of others for nothing.” Gabriel reached over to Jane’s bedside table and opened the draw and brought out another candle. He lit it, then tugged the covers up to her shoulders.
On the day they ejected him from the seminary he accepted some of the minds of this world were open to him while others would always be closed. He also understood the angels and demons he saw in his visions were real, and Jane helped him come to terms with his miraculous abilities. He could see the dark shadow of the demon attached to her. He would find some way to rid her of the burden. “I will bring you some breakfast. You must eat and stay strong.”
“Take more blood. Take all you want if it will help you find a way to make it go.” Jane held out an arm that already showed evidence of needle punctures. “Maybe it will help you find an angel.”
“Later.” He leaned forward and covered her arm with the sheet. It was tempting to remove more blood and repeat the thrill it gave him. “I dreamt of the woman again last night. She was with an angel. I saw her apartment explode, and this morning the TV showed an explosion in the Mission District. I’ve discovered she runs a detective agency. I’ve sent others to find her and bring her here. Don’t give up, Jane.” No answer came as he crept from the room with the echo of her tears behind him.
He made his way through the main hallway of his ranch house to the kitchen. So many empty rooms and beyond were barns and stables. This was his father’s dream, not his.
He remembered when he was sixteen years old and he told his father he wanted to be a priest. They rarely did anything together but his father suggested they go fishing, but not the way normal people fished. His father hired a boat, a skipper, two stewards and everything was thoroughly organized.
Gabriel fought the big fish for two hours until his hands were red and blistered, and his father appeared happy and smiled at him for once. The fish was a masterpiece of God’s creation. So perfect it wasn’t to be returned to the ocean his father said. It was stuffed and placed as a pointless trophy on the ranch wall. His father had slit open another fish and shoved Gabriel’s hands in its blood and guts. Afterwards father and his friends opened bottles of wine at the celebration of such a feat. While they drank their fill, Gabriel emptied his stomach over the side as they laughed and threw fish guts at him.
At no point in the day did father ask about what Gabriel wanted, maybe he didn’t care. Looking back he was glad of the experience. From that day forward he knew there would be a higher purpose to his life than trying to please his father. If he could have removed the stench of fish from his hands and picked up the knife and gutted his father in front of everyone he would have.
It was all in the past and father died soon enough by overconsumption of his precious wine, and driving the wrong way up the freeway. A chuckle developed in Gabriel’s throat. He grabbed the doorframe next to him and tried to take control of his emotions. He needed to push these ones down so deep they would never resurface. He feared if the snigger grew he would be lost. He would become like his mother, a dribbling, empty-headed mess, locked away from the world.
He took a deep breath and thought about Nicole. He would find Isaac, and discover what the news was. There were some benefits of money. You could hire burly security men willing to do anything you wanted for a fee.
Chapter 7
Saving Peter
Nicole stood in the middle of her apartment and glanced around. Her laptop sat open on her desk and the screen showed the landscape picture of a waterfall like it always did. She slumped onto the couch and cradled her throbbing head. A hangover, she suspected. She remembered being tempted by the scotch on the counter, but couldn’t remember drinking it. Come to think of it, she couldn’t remember anything of last night. She rubbed her temples to relieve the ache. It didn’t work.
Something was wrong. Come on, Nicole. Think, what’s missing? She glanced around the room and her stomach turned when the realization hit her. Mira was gone. Her laptop hissed and crackled as the image of Mira dying replayed on its screen. Nicole heard a noise behind her and turned to see Sayell walk in through the door of her apartment. He was smiling. How did she know his name? He appeared handsome and yet his grin made her gut tighten. This had to be an illusion, but somehow she knew Mira’s death wasn’t.
“I thought your mind would be different, less easy to manipulate. But no, your race really is disappointing.” He strolled over and raised his hand to touch her cheek.
Nicole wanted to push him away, but couldn’t move. Her breathing increased as a shiver of fear passed through her. She remembered the night before clearly.
“Ridge, is your mate, and yet I’ve managed to block him. He doesn’t even know I’m inside your head. I always thought he overestimated his abilities. But I’m not here because of him. I need to show you something.” Sayell turned back towards the door where two other men arrived dragging an unconscious form between them.
Nicole saw black and purple spiked hair and a bright green top, and her heart sank. Peter.
“I hate to do this. I truly believe you’re getting the wrong impression of me.”
He brought his face so close to hers she tried to turn away, but he was in control of this illusion and kept her staring at his gloating expression.
“I only have your welfare at heart and far more than your intended does. All I want is a child from you, whereas the conversion he plans will kill you.”
Sayell ambled across to Peter. He ran his hand across her brother-in-law’s forehead. It was too personal a movement for a stranger. She tensed, waiting.
“We need to get to know each other better and Peter has offered to help. However I thought you needed some encouragement to see things from my perspective.”
Nicole watched in horror as one of Sayell’s men wrenched back Peter’s head so the skin of his throat was exposed. There was a flash of light and Sayell placed an old-fashioned dagger at Peter’s neck. She managed to clench her fists but that was the limit of what she could do.
“Come to me at your office and Peter will be free. Stay with Ridge, and you know what will happen. And don’t take too long. My heart though big once has been shriveled by humanity somewhat.” Sayell gloated as he played with the dagger.
Nicole took a deep breath and struggled to get some words out. “I won’t do this. Ridge, won’t let you hurt him.”
Sayell moved with speed across the room and held her close. “You’ll want to come to me so much you won’t be able to stay away. You won’t even remember your irritating mate.” He slowly licked her cheek. “Haven’t you realized from our little discussion here, your mind is mine?”
Nicole’s hands clenched onto the sheets as her heart pounded in her chest.
She was in a strange bed in a room she didn’t recognize. At least she was fully dressed. Sitting up she tried to hold down her panic as she heard someone talking in the next room. The dream came back. She needed to save Peter. Every muscle in her body ached and protested as she got out of bed. Something must have happened to make her so tired, but it was a like a faint memory she couldn’t grasp. Dear God, had she been drugged? She moved over to the door and opened it a crack to listen. She needed information if she was going to get out and get to Peter.
“Let her sleep, Boss. She might even like you when she wakes up. Doubt it though. You could’ve at least asked her before you connected the two of you. I always thought you guys down South had all the charm, but yours went missing. She’s just scared. Just tell her what your plan is. You do have a plan?”
Nicole couldn’t see the woman who spoke. What the hell were they talking about? It couldn’t be her.
“For fucks sake, Sara. Stop gloatin’. Twelve hours ago this was a regular changeover mission. No. I don’t have a plan. Apart from gettin' myself out of this mess, and a million miles away from that woman in there before she messes with my head anymore.”
A man with a southern accent spoke. The voice sounded familiar but Nicole couldn’t put a name to it. The woman laughed.
“Did you clear Kerry’s memory?” the man asked.
“All done, and Frieda’s gone to see her daughter for the afternoon. She’s going to give you a mouthful when she gets back. I’d like to watch. Plus, because bad news travels fast. Kyle’s here from the L.A. Chapter. He has Heath, from England with him no less. Love his sexy English accent. Could almost go straight for that.”
“Sometimes I wonder whose side you’re on. Let’s go and see what my fellow Midworlders from Hollywood want, apart from fame and fortune. Nothin’ is sittin’ right with me. I don’t trust Sayell. He gave up too easily on her.”
Nicole heard them walking away and a door slam. Sayell. The name made her left hand go numb like it had been stuck in a bucket of ice. She picked up the phone beside the bed and dialed. Peter lived in the small apartment next to the agency so if he was back, he should pick up. Her heart pounded as she waited. He was all she had left in the world, she had to save him.
“Flynn Detective Agency.”
“Peter, it’s Nicole. Are you okay?” She sighed with relief at the sound of his voice.
“Am I okay? Where have you been? I got back early and saw your place on TV. It looked like a bomb hit it. The police said they talked to you, and you said you were alright. I thought it must be a trick because you hadn’t called.”
“So no one else is there with you?” Nicole tried to keep the anxiety out of her voice, but the image of a knife at his neck and blood flowing from the gash was forming in her mind again. Her throat went dry.
“No, I’m alone. Why?”
“I’m coming over. Don’t leave the agency, and don’t let anyone in.”
“What’s going on?” Peter stuttered.
It only happened when he was scared. “I’m coming, Peter. Everything will be alright and you’ll be safe.”
Nicole put the phone down and put her hands to her head and cried. She sat on the floor and wept, but these tears would do her no good.
She needed to push all thoughts back and save Peter. She made her way along the balcony above the empty club. She stopped. This was wrong but she couldn’t work out why. Someone was here who would help. She needed to tell him what was happening. Turning back towards the stairs to the lower level, she barely went three steps when she bent double as a stabbing sensation ripped through her. She placed her arm across her abdomen while her hand went to her neck. It was as if another blade pierced her skin at her throat. She expected her hand to come away wet and covered in blood. There was nothing. Her mind reeled with too many thoughts and strange pictures. Then calm came with the sound of a voice in her head.
Nicole. Come to me. Peter will be saved. There is only death where you are.
The voice was right. Peter would be lost if she didn’t leave. She couldn’t allow that. She turned to the door and the fire escape and the pain lessened but the dizziness continued. The steps appeared to heave beneath her feet. She stopped to grip onto the handrail. The pavement seemed so far away. Then it zoomed up like it was right before her face. Her feet were heavy, but she was determined to make it to the sidewalk. She had too.
This had been her city for four years but at this moment she felt like a stranger. People’s faces were too close and accusing. Finally on the sidewalk she took a deep breath, and raised her hand as a taxi approached.
Settling into the back of the cab she glanced out the window. The building she had left was a nightclub called Heaven’s Gate. She had seen it before but had never gone there. She mumbled directions to taxi driver to go to Richmond and the agency. The taxi drove away and she peered back with an overwhelming sense of loss that brought tears to her eyes. She wanted to yell stop and run back, but she couldn’t remember what she was meant to be running back to. She must have dozed off for a moment because she could hear the driver saying something.
“You’re here. Clements Street. You didn’t say what number.”
She paid him with the money she had picked up in the apartment, but hesitated before leaving the taxi. Her back stiffened. Years of police work kicked in. Someone was watching. The feeling intensified as she st
ood on the sidewalk and watched the taxi pull away. Her legs went weak and her vision blurred. Peter, she had to save Peter. That was the only thing that was important. A man touched her arm and she jumped.
“Nicole.”
How did he know her name? “Yes.” Nicole answered without thinking and regretted the word once it left her lips. She needed to get to Peter, but the man’s hand encircled her wrist. A SUV with tinted windows drove up in front of them. The door opened and the man shoved her inside. Another grabbed her and yanked her into the back seat.
“Drive,” he yelled to the man in the front of the car.
The pain increased and tore through her body the further they drove away from Peter. She tried to grab onto anything to find a way out of the car but her assailants’ arms clamped tighter. She kicked out and heard a groan as her knees connected with someone’s groin. A hand came across her face and she bit down hard on the fingers in front of her. The man swore but didn’t let up his attack. His hands gripped her arms and held her fast. They were big and there were two of them. No matter how much she struggled she couldn’t beat them. One held her around the waist and over her mouth while the other tackled her arms and legs. The man next to her head whispered.
