Faegen, Trinity - Mephisto Covenant, The

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Faegen, Trinity - Mephisto Covenant, The Page 5

by BTKT


  The instant he landed in that warehouse, he saw the golden glow of Anabo surrounding the blonde girl in the center of the room, and a nanosecond later, he was awash in the sweet, salty scent of her. He’d found his Anabo, a moment he’d anticipated for over a thousand years.

  Now, she was gone, and he’d do whatever it took to find her.

  Quickly assessing the situation, he knew this called for some serious acting. And lying. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his trench coat to keep himself from grabbing the woman and scaring the information out of her, and said hesitantly, “I, uhm, go to school with Sasha. We, uh, well, we go out, and . . .” He forced a look of total confusion and distress to his face. “I don’t get why she didn’t call, didn’t tell me.”

  “She didn’t have time, but I’m sure she’ll call you once she gets where she’s going.”

  “I hope so. We have tickets to a concert tonight.”

  “Oh.” The woman looked conflicted. “Actually, I don’t think she’ll be there. She didn’t move somewhere else in town. She moved to Colorado, to stay with her aunt and uncle for a while.”

  “Do you know where in Colorado? My family owns a house in Telluride, so maybe when we go for Christmas, I can see Sasha. Is she anywhere close to Telluride?”

  The woman smiled then, obviously pleased. “What a happy coincidence! That’s where she’s staying.”

  He didn’t believe in coincidence. Everything was connected, everything happened for a reason. Sasha moving to Telluride, only twenty miles from the Mephisto Mountain, was a sign from God, a return on the deal he made with Jax and his brothers so many centuries ago. The Mephisto Covenant. If they kept Eryx from taking over Hell, they would each find an Anabo, and if each could win his Anabo—if she stayed and became Mephisto— they would have what they wanted more than anything: peace in their restless, angry souls and the same chance of Heaven as every other human.

  Elation made him return her smile, watt for watt, before he turned and left the apartment, went to the end of the hall, and disappeared. Seconds later, he was back in Colorado, bugging the new Lumina, Brody, a major computer geek, to find out the name of Sasha’s uncle.

  ---

  Sasha remembered breaking her arm when she was twelve, during a volleyball game. At first, she hadn’t felt anything but a jarring sensation, then it was a couple of minutes later before the pain of the break hit her.

  Flying into Telluride on a dinky puddle jumper they’d caught in Denver, she stared out at the mountains and wondered if this was like when she’d broken her arm. She felt nothing now, but it couldn’t last.

  Tim never said much at all, didn’t speak unless she asked him a question, then answered in short, curt sentences.

  They got off the plane, collected her luggage, and went out to the parking lot, to a Toyota sedan. The drive into town was as silent as the flight. She stared straight ahead, uninterested in the houses, the turn-of-the-century buildings, the quaint shops. Once or twice, the memory of last night came to mind, but she shoved it away and concentrated on the clouds overhead. They were thick and dark, turning everything gloomy.

  Her mother’s voice was in her head, making her throat tight with unshed tears, but she wasn’t going to think about it right now. She wondered what her friends at school were doing, how everyone took the news about the Ravens. They’d never know Sasha went to that meeting. Not that it mattered now. She’d probably never see any of her friends again. Tim eventually turned off of the main street and drove through a neighborhood of old Victorian houses, until he pulled into the driveway of one that was painted green, maroon, and pale pink. Most of the houses on this street were nice, but the Shrivers’ paint was peeling, the yard was overgrown with dead weeds, and the front porch sagged on one end. The detached garage wasn’t in any better shape.

  Tim parked in the drive next to a Hummer and opened his door. “Let’s go in and I’ll send the boys for your luggage.”

  She followed him to the back door, then inside, into a kitchen that smelled like burned coffee. Dirty dishes covered the countertops, and M&M’s were scattered across the floor. “Melanie!”

  His shout startled her, but she didn’t move from where she stood, just behind and to the right of him. Footsteps approached, and she prepared to meet her aunt, who was bound to hate her.

  Instead of a woman, a guy with spiky blond hair and a Jay-Z T-shirt came around the corner of the entryway into the family room. He looked straight at Sasha and frowned. “Who the hell are you?”

  Tim grasped her arm to pull her forward. “This is your cousin, Sasha. She’s going to be staying with us for a while. Sasha, this is Brett, my oldest boy.”

  “Hello,” she said without smiling. Why would she smile at a guy who just gave her the once-over, stopping to stare at her boobs before he met her gaze and grimaced, making it clear she didn’t measure up? What a tool. “Go get her bags and take them up to the guest room,” Tim said. “Is her leg broken? I’m not the f’ing bellboy.” He turned and left the kitchen. Expecting Tim to go after him, or at least yell for him to come back, she couldn’t believe it when instead he walked to the refrigerator and said over his shoulder, “Wait for Chris to get home and he’ll get your bags.”

  “I can do it, if you’ll just tell me where to take them.”

  With a slice of cold pizza in his thick fingers and the first bite in his mouth, he walked past her toward the family room. “First door on the left at the top of the stairs.”

  Ten minutes later, just as she reached the landing with her second bag, the front door opened in the foyer below and she heard a woman say, “Is she here?”

  Tim, who was parked in a gigantic recliner in front of the TV, said, “She is.”

  “You lousy bastard, I can’t believe you’d bring that son of a bitch’s kid into my house. You have no right!”

  “It’s my house and my best friend’s daughter. If you don’t like it, leave.”

  “Maybe I will.” “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.” Sasha had turned to look down, but Melanie never noticed, moving out of sight and into the family room without glancing up. The door remained open, until a guy with dark hair walked in, closed it behind him, then looked up and saw her. He darted his eyes toward the angry voices in the den before he headed up the stairs. “You must be Sasha.”

  “You must be Chris.”

  He took the bag from her hand and walked toward the guest room. She followed and watched him set it on one of the twin beds before he turned to look at her. “Dad said he was bringing you here to live with us. Bummer about your mom.”

  Sasha only nodded.

  “Well, I’ve got some stuff to do.” He walked past her into the hall and then through the doorway just next to hers, and closed the door behind him. A few seconds later, she heard the familiar sound of a video game intro.

  She reached to open the first bag and start unpacking, but hadn’t even begun unzipping it when Melanie stormed into the room. “Do not unpack! You won’t be here that long.”

  Sasha stared at her, not really sure what to say. She’d expected the woman to hate her, and the way things were going, she’d probably be sleeping in a cardboard box tonight.

  Melanie moved farther into the room, to the edge of the bed. With jerky movements, she unzipped the largest of Sasha’s bags and started yanking everything out, throwing the items to the floor. “Where is it? I know that bitch gave it to you and I want it, right now.”

  “What are you looking for?”

  “My father’s ring! Mike ripped it off after he died, but now Mike’s dead, too, and I mean to have it. It’s mine.”

  “I don’t have the ring. My mother took it to Russia.”

  “Liar. You’re a liar, just like Mike.” She reached the bottom of the bag, then turned to the other. Sasha watched her empty everything to the floor, then caught a fearful breath when she pulled out the white tube.

  “What’s this?” “A portrait of my mother,” Sasha lied. Melanie d
ropped the tube as if it burned her hand and kicked

  it beneath the bed. “If you hang it up, if you even take it out, I’ll light it on fire. You got it?”

  “Yes.” Sasha tried not to look relieved that Melanie hadn’t opened it. She forced herself to have no expression at all, hoping Melanie would finish searching and go away.

  When it became clear that Sasha wasn’t a liar, that she really didn’t have the ring, Melanie went off on her. “I’m glad your mother was deported. The only thing better would be if the Russians executed her. She was always so high and mighty, looking down her nose at me, thinking she was something special. Just like Mike. Mr. Perfect, could do no wrong. But he got what was coming to him. I was never so happy as when I heard he’d been shot. Arrogant bastard, always—”

  “Stop,” Sasha interrupted, thinking Melanie was scary as hell and it was no wonder Tim was miserable, and Brett was a total douche, having a mom like this. “I get that you hated his guts, but he was my father and I loved him. I can’t listen to—” “Don’t you dare talk back to me!” Melanie moved closer, her eyes wild with fury, and Sasha stepped away, seriously afraid she was about to be slapped. “It’s bad enough I have to put up with you at all, but I’ll be damned if I’ll tolerate your talk!” Wow. Hypocritical much? “I’m sorry to be an inconvenience, but it’s not like I have a choice. Can’t we just get along?” “I can’t look at you without thinking about my brother.” “What did he do to you that made you hate him so much?” “He was born! He lived, he breathed, and he was so perfect, so much the golden child, it’s like I stopped existing.” Dad had done nothing to deserve her fury. This woman was insane with jealousy, paranoid, and eaten up with bitterness: a victim of her own twisted mind. There was something else about her, something scary evil that went beyond her hate and rage, but

  Sasha couldn’t pin it down. “I don’t want you here, don’t care if you live or die. Push me just once, and you’ll be out in the street. Do you understand?” When Sasha said nothing, she moved closer and shouted, “Answer me! Do you understand?”

  Tim said from the doorway, “Back off, Melanie.”

  Melanie wheeled around to face him. “You’re taking her side over mine?”

  “She hasn’t done anything except tell you to lay off of her dad. Go take your meds and shut up.” He glanced at Sasha, then looked at the pile of clothes, books, and toiletries on the floor.

  His small eyes ended up at his wife. “Either treat her right, or I’ll make that call so fast, your head will spin.”

  “You wouldn’t dare!”

  “Don’t kid yourself. I’ll make sure they lock you up and throw away the key.”

  Looking as if she might explode, Melanie stormed out of the room, shoving Tim aside as she went.

  Sasha was curious who Tim could threaten to call that would freak Melanie out enough that she would lay off and leave the room. A doctor? A hospital for psychos?

  After giving her a slight nod, Tim turned and left as well.

  Alone again, she closed the door and began picking up her things. When she was done putting her stuff away, she slumped into an old wooden chair in front of a small desk and stared at the ugly wallpaper. She’d known it would be hard to live with Dad’s sister, but the reality was so much worse. Intuitively, she knew it wouldn’t get better, that Melanie was never going to accept her, much less like her. The best thing to do was avoid her, as much as possible.

  Reaching for her backpack, she pulled her laptop out, powered up, and signed onto the Internet. Her habit was to hit Facebook first, but she avoided it for now. Seeing everyone’s status was bound to bum her out, and she didn’t want to read about the Ravens. They were probably all anyone was talking about. She wondered if anyone was talking about her, about why she hadn’t shown up at school today.

  Probably not. Her best friend, Marley, had moved to Portland almost a year ago, right after her dad had died, and after that, she hadn’t really hung out with anybody in particular. She ran with the cool kids at St. Michael’s, but always just as part of the group. After her father’s murder, it took her a while to realize she didn’t see things the same way anymore. The endless talk about music and clothes and who said what and who lost the V and who was smoking weed in the parking lot seemed really pointless after Dad was shot.

  But she wasn’t a loner, so she stuck with the group of kids she’d known her whole life, mostly out of habit. Which was why, she guessed, she’d taken the risk of going to the Ravens’ meeting last night. It was ironic that they weren’t there to rat her out, but it didn’t matter because neither was she.

  Shaking off thoughts of St. Michael’s, she went to Google and typed in “Anabo,” just to see what came up. There were lots of hits, but nothing related to descendants of Aurora. She typed in “Aurora” and “Eve” and hit thousands of sites, most of which were escort services and porn outlets. Then she added “biblical” and “Eden” to the search, and found a Princeton grad student’s thesis on the story of Aurora, a daughter born of Eve before she fell from grace. In his footnotes, he cited a book by a guy named Giardna, a Renaissance man who spent his life writing about biblical characters no one had ever heard of, including Aurora, the daughter of Eve. He died penniless and unknown, until someone named Bennington found his papers and published them in England in 1853. So Anabo wasn’t real, but the idea existed, and that must be where Alex got it. He’d picked it up and claimed it was true, then made up the mysterious Eryx and got a bunch of wrongheaded kids to follow along, like a cult. She wondered why. Was he a twisted, sick pervert? Why did a grown man start a secret club with a bunch of high school kids?

  She shuddered, remembering their rage, the hate, the violence of the stones coming at her, over and over.

  Closing her laptop, she stretched out on the closest twin bed and stared up at the ceiling. She’d never felt so alone. The enormity of it all hit her hard, dissolving her numb cocoon. Turning to her side, she gave up trying not to cry.

  “How’d it go? Did you find her? Was Brody right about the Shrivers?”

  Jax walked into the TV room and plopped down to the leather couch. “Yeah, he was right, and yes, I found her.”

  “Then why do you sound so bummed out?” Phoenix gave him a look. “Did you talk to her?”

  “No, because she didn’t see me. I went to the house where she’s living with her aunt and uncle and checked it out.”

  Phoenix sat up and turned toward him. “You better be real careful, Jax. If she ever finds out, she’ll hate you for being an invisible creeper who spies on her when she’s alone.”

  “I won’t do it again, but I had to see if she’s all right after what happened last night.” “And?”

  He looked toward the gigantic television, at the guys on Sports Center. “She cried. A lot.”

  “Girls cry a lot. Get used to it.” “Did Jane cry a lot?” “More than I thought possible, for random reasons, not always because she was sad.” “I’m pretty sure Sasha cried because she’s sad.” The sound of her crying made him feel very weird. “I was hanging around outside, looking for any sign of her, when Tim Shriver pulled up and there she was, in the car with him.” He told Phoenix everything, including what Melanie had said about Sasha’s mom being deported.

  “That’s why she moved in such a hurry.” Phoenix turned down the volume on the TV. “No wonder she cried.”

  “You’re not gonna believe this, but her aunt and one of the cousins are lost souls.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.” He leaned his head back and studied the Greek key design carved into the crown molding. “After I left Sasha, I went all over Telluride, looking for more. I found two at the coffeehouse, both kids.” He closed his eyes. “I hit pay dirt in the bookshop.”

  “You found the Skia?” “He’s a teacher at the high school.”

  “Damn.” Phoenix leaned back again, quiet and thoughtful for a while before he said, “Right in our own backyard. How’d we miss it?”
r />   “I asked Key to check dates, and he found out the Skia has been here since the start of the school year, but he got his first pledge, which was Melanie Shriver, about two weeks ago. His second was Sasha’s cousin, Brett. The kid’s not a good student, so his chances of getting into any college are zilch. After he pledged, he was accepted at Colorado in Boulder.” He glanced at Phoenix. “He also won a sweepstakes and used the money to buy a Hummer.”

  “He pledged his soul for college and a freakin’ car?”

  “M says he resisted, but Eryx wanted him to be first because he’s the most popular kid at Telluride. The Skia went for his mother, and after she pledged, she talked the kid into it.”

  “So much for maternal love.” Phoenix sighed. “What about the others?”

  “Right now, there are two, a guy who’s friends with the Shriver kid, and his girlfriend. From what I could see at the coffeehouse, these aren’t outsider nerdy kids like the cell we found in San Francisco.”

  “Eryx learned a lesson from that. To entice others, he needs the most popular kids to pledge first.”

  “I guess this is his newest strategy, suckering young people into following him.”

  “I’m only surprised he didn’t do it sooner.”

  Jax wished he could focus on something else, but the sound of Sasha’s crying was stuck in his head, all mixed up with the horrible things her aunt had said to her. Not that he was surprised. Melanie Shriver couldn’t help being a bitch. Lost souls took a long time to learn how to manage their resentment toward people who still had control of their lives—their souls. They acted out, were mean and hateful, and frequently became violent. If they managed to avoid capture by the Mephisto and stayed out of Hell on Earth long enough, they eventually figured out they could win a lot more souls for Eryx if they weren’t total assholes. But in the first year or so of a lost soul’s new reality of belonging to Eryx, they were generally horrible people.

 

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