After he’d been brought back, he’d spent decades tracking down every magic book and obscure manuscript on resurrection, but he’d found nothing. No clue as to how or why he’d been brought back. After that it had been one long continuous suicide attempt after another. When he’d finally figured out that wasn’t going to work, he’d set himself on a path of chemical and alcohol related self-destruction.
He was forced to conclude; he’d not been a very admirable man. He’d simply stopped caring, after all, there was nothing left to care about. His mother was dead, his brother and sister gone. All of his friends grew old and passed away. Although he still had Sam, he flitted in and out of his life like a turbulent summer storm, briefly and without warning, quite often with a trail of destruction in his wake.
Not that he minded. Sam was the closest thing he had to a friend, even if he only showed up every decade or so.
Although he tried not to, he found his mind kept flitting back to Olivia, a woman he’d never thought he’d see again. A woman that he really didn’t know, except for the fact that his brother was in love with her. So in love with her, that he’d apparently married her and fathered two children.
Theo was a father.
Elias’s mouth curved slightly in the darkness. He wasn’t surprised, although, after their mother’s death it fell to the pair of them to raise their baby sister Temperance, but the brunt of that task had largely fallen on Theo’s shoulders being the younger brother. Especially as Elias had taken over running the farm at the age of thirteen because their father was always too drunk to do little more than shout and beat them.
Christ, he closed his eyes. The apple really hadn’t fallen far from the tree. Both Theo and Temperance had been lucky, their father James had been a kind and good man, traits they’d both inherited from him. He hadn’t been so lucky. As the only child of Matthias Beckett all he’d inherited was a drinking problem, a lousy temperament and a filthy temper.
Theo deserved to be happy. Seeing how he’d been with their sister, even crushed with grief for their mother and left with a screaming red-faced baby at the age of eleven, he’d loved Tempy and cared for her with endless patience. He could only imagine that Theo was the same with his own children.
His niece and nephew… he hadn’t even asked their names.
Even with the guilt nearly choking him, Elias still couldn’t do what Olivia was asking of him. He couldn’t help himself let alone anyone else. Even now he could feel his hands shaking and his mouth was dry. He needed a hit of something, anything to take the edge off.
But the Veritas had Theo.
The thought hammered relentlessly in his head, making the pounding headache even worse. He couldn’t help his brother, no matter how much he might want to. Theo was a hundred and fifty years into the future and God knew where.
Elias closed his eyes and willed his tensed muscles to relax. Inch by torturous inch he began to claw his way toward a restless, disturbed sleep and when he finally succumbed to an exhausted slumber, his last thought as he went under, was of his brother.
7
The Present Day - the middle of somewhere.
Theo blinked groggily and opened his eyes. His head was pounding, although this was nothing new for him, but his mouth was really dry as he attempted to swallow, noting a peculiar, metallic taste.
As his eyes slowly adjusted, he cast his gaze appraisingly across the room. The ceiling was high and comprised entirely of panels, each brightly lit with a blindingly white, sterile light, the floor a smooth polished white surface he couldn’t identify.
The space was empty but for a rather ominous looking chair set in the center of the room. It was cushioned and covered in white vinyl, with accompanying arm and leg rests, each with thick leather restraints attached.
Theo stared at all four walls curiously, noticing with a frown of confusion that there was no door, just plain, dark colored walls. No, not dark walls he realized. He reached up from where he was laying on the cold hard ground and touched the wall. It was glass. Well, maybe not glass, something tougher but transparent like glass. What he was seeing was the darkness on the other side surrounding the strange box-like prison he found himself in.
He couldn’t see out, but if anyone was standing on the other side watching, they could see in. With that sobering realization he began to feel like a goldfish.
He pushed himself up into a sitting position, his head spinning slightly and a sharp pain shooting up his arm. He let loose an unintentional hiss of pain and looked down.
His feet were bare, and he found himself wearing a loose-fitting pair of pants and a matching tunic, like surgical scrubs except they were white. His arm throbbed and burned painfully, so he pulled up the short sleeve and examined it.
There were three thick, metal cuffs each inscribed with a language that, although he couldn’t read, he’d seen before. His skin beneath the cuffs was red raw and chafed, almost to the point of bleeding. His magical tattoos, which ran the length of his arm in elaborate vines, pulsed and burned. Ordinarily, he was able to flex his hand and with very little concentration, the tattoo would melt and slide down his arm like molten metal, coalescing in his palm to form a knife or sword, depending on his will.
But he’d seen something similar to these cuffs before, around the neck of Charon, the Ferryman of the Underworld. When Charon had been captured by the demon Nathaniel and Olivia’s mother, Isabel, they’d enslaved him with a demon collar, almost identical to the cuffs he now wore. The collar had not only been incredibly painful to wear but had canceled out almost all of Charon’s powers, leaving him unable to return to the Underworld and the gateway between worlds open.
Theo reached for his weapon, waiting for the liquid metal to flow through his skin to his palm, but nothing happened. The cuffs grew hot. The more he tried the hotter they became until the ancient language etched into the surface of the metal began to glow.
He let his head fall back against the wall as he dragged in a shaky breath. The pain in his arm was excruciating. He could only assume that the cuffs served the same purpose as the demon collar; it canceled out supernatural abilities.
Theo suddenly reached for his neck, dragging his fingertips along his collarbone. He cursed softly; the amulet was gone. He always wore the crescent moon amulet Olivia had given him shortly after they first met. It had been created by the Goddess Diana for protection and it had saved his ass more than once.
At least they’d left him his wedding ring.
He traced the warm gold against his finger and sucked in a deep breath, trying to cast his mind back. The last thing he remembered was Jake and Roni’s wedding. Men in black callously attacking unarmed innocent guests at a celebration.
His fists clenched involuntarily as the fury pumped through his veins. They’d come to his house and attacked his family, because that’s what Jake and Roni were, his family, as much as Olivia and their children.
He closed his eyes and sucked in a sharp breath. Whoever those men had been… and he had a pretty good idea who, they’d better not have harmed Olivia or their children, or there wouldn’t be a single place on earth that they could hide from him.
He needed to get out of this stupid see-through box they had him trapped in. He needed to get back to his family, he needed more than anything to know they were safe and unharmed.
Theo pushed himself slowly and stiffly to his feet. He had no way of knowing how much time had passed since his kidnapping, he also had no idea where he was being held.
Slowly and painstakingly he checked each wall, running his hands along the smooth surface, checking for any defects, any opening, but there was nothing. After his second circuit of the room he stopped and allowed his hands to drop to his sides. How the hell had he gotten in the room to start with? From what he could tell there were absolutely no doors.
Feeling the edges of his frustration start to tip over into anger he shoved the wall roughly with his shoulder, then kicked it several times. He even contemplated
ripping the strange medical looking chair from the floor and launching it at the wall, but it was bolted firmly to the floor and wouldn’t budge an inch.
He raked his hands through his dark hair, gripping the roots tightly for a second as if that would give him some clarity, before rubbing his face in frustration and feeling a couple of days’ worth of facial hair growth. His brow folded into a frown as he stroked the beginnings of a beard. Exactly how long had he been unconscious?
He turned his back to the wall, allowing his head to fall back against the glass as he slid slowly down into a seated position, his forearms resting across his bent knees. He stared blankly at the wall on the other side of the room until he felt his sight blurring.
No wait, it wasn’t his eyesight he realized as he warily pushed himself to his feet. The wall was rippling like it was made of liquid, as ominous looking shadows shifted behind it.
Suddenly a man emerged, flanked by two others and the wall solidified behind them. Theo watched them warily, as they stepped further into the well-lit room. The two men behind were dressed similarly to him, in pristine white scrubs, the only difference was that while he had bare feet, they both wore more standard white medical shoes and surgical skull caps.
But it was the man in front of them that had Theo’s attention. He seemed to be in charge, he exuded power and authority. He wore nothing but black, from his polished designer shoes and his expertly tailored suit, to the black shirt and tie. His hair and eyes were so dark they were almost black, and his skin was fair.
It was strange, Theo thought to himself. He couldn’t guess the man’s age; he seemed young, yet as he studied his face, he also seemed old. It was a contradiction, as was the strong sense of familiarity tugging relentlessly at the corners of his mind. He’d never met this man before, but it felt like he knew him somehow, he just couldn’t figure it out.
‘Who are you?’ Theo finally asked.
The man smiled slowly.
‘Theodore Beckett,’ his dark eyes glittered, ‘I’m so pleased we finally get to meet properly. My name is Jonathan Faraday.’
‘Faraday?’ Theo’s eyes darkened dangerously, ‘you’re Veritas.’
He inclined his head almost regally, although his expression was one of mocking amusement.
‘You attacked my home,’ Theo growled, ‘you tried to kill the people I care about.’
Faraday tilted his head a fraction, studying Theo as he reached inside his jacket and pulled out a small object about the size of his palm. He allowed it to slide through his slim manicured fingers, watching Theo as it swung back and forth on a thick chain like a pendulum.
Theo’s eyes widened as he recognized it. With a growl of pure rage, he threw himself toward the smirking man intent on choking the life from him, only to find himself firmly restrained by the other two men who’d accompanied Faraday into the room.
‘You son of a bitch,’ Theo hissed furiously. ‘Where did you get that?’
‘Where do you think?’ Faraday’s mouth curved. ‘From your lovely wife of course.’
Theo stared at the compass Hades had given Olivia. He knew for a fact it never left her neck. She would never have parted with it willingly and with that thought his stomach tensed sickly and his mouth dried out.
‘What have you done with her?’ he growled from between clenched teeth as he struggled to break free.
‘Nothing,’ his brow rose slowly, ‘…. yet. She’s my guest, as are your children. Their continuing good health depends entirely on you.’
Theo swallowed tightly against the icy cold fear wrapping itself around his throat.
‘What do you want?’ he asked resentfully.
‘I take it you’ve heard of the Emolian prophecy?’
Theo blinked at him silently.
‘Written in 1662 and so named because it was written by your mother, Emmaline Beckett.’ Faraday stepped closer. ‘She was an incredibly gifted seer; such a shame she had to be born into such turbulent times,’ Faraday’s voice dropped as he leaned in and studied Theo’s face. ‘Who knows what she could have achieved,’ he murmured thoughtfully, ‘had she been born into another time… another place.’
Theo turned his head to glare hatefully into Faraday’s eyes, his jaw clenching so tightly he could feel his teeth grinding but not trusting himself to speak.
‘Anyway,’ Faraday stepped back, his voice returning to a more conversational tone, ‘it has come to my attention recently that the renegade Angel, Ash, has stolen the original copy of the Emolian Prophecy, which I believe your friend Samuel had in his possession. Whilst I would have liked to have had the original… and we are still in pursuit of it, we do in fact, have an accurate copy. The problem is, the prophecy is not only incomplete, but it is written in an ancient language only your mother seemed to understand.’
‘My mother is dead, I can’t help you,’ Theo replied bluntly.
‘Theo, Theo, Theo,’ he tutted as he paced the floor slowly and deliberately. ‘I think you’re lying to me,’ he swung the compass back and forth slowly. ‘Need I remind you, that your family’s safety is contingent on your assistance.’
Theo stared silently, his mouth tightening into a thin line.
‘We’ve had our eyes on you for quite some time you know,’ Faraday told him smoothly. ‘Almost since the moment you first appeared in Mercy. Olivia, we have been watching for much, much longer but you… you just dropped straight in our lap. We’d waited for such a long time, for a seer capable of that kind of power. Someone like Emmaline or Hester West. We watched for descendants who would inherit the gift of sight, but the old bloodlines were dying out. The magic was not as strong as it had been; we began to despair we’d never find the one… until you… Theodore.’
Faraday stopped his movements and turned to face Theo.
‘You were truly a gift, not only a direct descendant of Emmaline herself, but her son. What are the odds?’ His eyes lit with a strange kind of impatient hunger, ‘the strange language you’ve been seeing…’
Theo blinked, his body tensing. How the hell did he know about that? The only person he’d told was Jake and there was no way Jake would have told anyone else.
‘I can hear your thoughts clicking away like a bag full of marbles Theodore,’ Faraday smiled slowly. ‘I told you we’ve been watching you very, very closely, waiting to see if you were capable of completing the prophecy. We were watching your sister too.’
Theo’s eyes snapped to Faraday’s.
‘Yes,’ he spoke evenly, ‘I know all about Tammy Burnett or should I say Temperance Beckett.’
‘If you harm her,’ Theo whispered dangerously.
‘We weren’t intending to,’ Faraday replied with a careless shrug, ‘for the time being anyway. We’ve been waiting to see if she manifests any gifts of her own, other than very weak visions. However, there was an incident recently with one of our lower level members, a rather unfortunate incident… for the moment she’s dropped off our radar but not to worry, it’s only a matter of time before we locate her.’
So, they didn’t have Tempy, Theo thought silently, at least that was something. He could only hope that wherever she was, she was well hidden.
‘I want to see Olivia,’ Theo demanded.
Faraday dropped the compass back into his palm and allowed the chain to pool on top of it before slipping it back into his pocket.
‘Not just yet,’ he replied. ‘Complete and translate the prophecy, and then you’ll get to see your wife.’
‘No,’ Theo’s jaw tightened once again, ‘let me see her and my children now, or you get nothing.’
‘You don’t really expect me to play my winning hand so early in the game, do you?’ his brow rose mockingly.
‘You don’t really expect me to believe you have my family without proof?’ Theo returned coldly.
Faraday’s mouth curved in amusement, his eyes flicked to the men holding Theo and he gave the barest perceptible nod of his head. Before Theo knew what was happening, he was
being dragged backward toward the chair, his bare feet slipping on the shiny floor as he struggled. He managed to headbutt one of his captors and get his hand loose before turning and swinging a punch which cracked loudly across the other’s cheekbone but still, they both managed to wrestle him into the cool leather seat and strap his arms and legs in tightly.
Theo lifted his head and strained against the wide leather straps buckled across his forearms, biceps, ankles and thighs. One of the men looked down at him with a dangerous glint in his eyes, wiping the blood from his lip from where Theo had head butted him. He roughly shoved Theo’s head back against the headrest and fastened another leather strap across his forehead, tightening it so hard that it felt like his head was going to split open. Finally, another slightly smaller strap was fastened across his chin to hold him firmly in place.
‘You see Theodore,’ Faraday’s face loomed above his, so close he could feel his breath against his clammy skin. ‘Although it would make things easier, I don’t need your co-operation. What I need is in here…’ he pressed his forefinger so hard between Theo’s eyes it left a small indentation in the skin between his brows. ‘Let’s face it, you don’t really have any kind of significant control of the visions, all that power and knowledge is trapped in your subconscious. All we have to do is access it.’
‘How are you planning on doing that?’ Theo grated sarcastically, unable to move his jaw much due to the uncomfortable strap.
‘I?’ Faraday straightened up, ‘not I. However, I am a great believer in delegating. In cases like this, it’s important to know when to bring in an expert.’
His gaze deviated to the wall they’d appeared from. Theo couldn’t see much. With his head tilted back and the straps holding it in place, he could do little more than move his eyes, but he could hear a new sound, the slow methodical squeak, like a small un-oiled wheel.
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