Necropolis

by Wendy Saunders

  ‘Not that I know of, why?’ Carl responded, genuinely baffled.

  ‘Nothing,’ Jake murmured as he glanced across to Roni, who was watching the exchange in just as much confusion.

  ‘Well that was just plain weird,’ Roni spoke as Carl excused himself and disappeared into the thinning crowd.

  ‘What the hell’s going on?’ Jake murmured.

  ‘Come on,’ Davis bent down and scooped Logan into his arms. ‘I think you should get the children back up to the house where we know they’ll be safe. We can figure this out there.’

  Jake nodded in agreement.

  ‘You think the Veritas might be behind this?’ Roni asked warily as her eyes scanned their surroundings nervously.

  ‘I don’t trust them, especially not with Olivia and Theo gone,’ Davis replied. They turned down the path and began to walk toward the main entrance. ‘I think it pays to be cautious.’

  ‘Danae?’ Jake called when he realized she wasn’t following, ‘are you coming?’

  ‘You guys go ahead,’ she answered absently, deep in thought, ‘I’ll meet you at the house. There’s something I want to check first.’

  ‘Do you want me to come with you?’ Davis asked his sister.

  ‘No, I’ll be fine,’ she shook her head as she took off toward her car.

  ‘What’s that all about?’ Roni asked as they headed for the massive iron gateway out of the cemetery.

  ‘I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough,’ Jake pulled his keys from his pocket. ‘She’s a helluva cop, she’s got good instincts.’

  The lights on his SUV flashed as they opened the doors. Davis handed Logan back to Jake.

  ‘I’m only parked a few spaces down from you,’ he told him cautiously. ‘I’ll stick close behind you and make sure you’re not being followed.’

  ‘You really think that’s necessary?’ Roni asked worriedly.

  ‘Like I said, better safe than sorry,’ he smiled at her. ‘Don’t worry Roni, I’m sure it’s fine, but until we can get to the bottom of what’s going on, we just need to be a little more careful than usual.’

  She nodded silently, her cheeks pale as she bent down and strapped Theia into her seat. Davis turned and headed to his car while Jake strapped Logan into the seat next to his sister, but as he straightened, he caught a bright flash of red. He stopped and stared as his gaze locked onto a beautiful dark-haired woman.

  He’d never seen her before; of that he was absolutely certain. She was the type of woman you didn’t forget easily. Her skin was fair, her hair long and dark, swept elegantly over one shoulder, she wore a raincoat of siren red with matching heels that could have easily doubled as lethal weapons. There was a lush over ripeness about her, laced with danger, like a predator luring its prey in with vivid colors and mesmerizing invitation.

  Her dark gaze locked on his as she brazenly watched him, her full ruby red lips curved into a slow deliberate smile and she winked.

  ‘Jake?’ Roni called from inside the car as she leaned over his seat. ‘Are you okay?’

  His gaze flicked to his wife for the barest second and when he looked back, the mysterious woman in red was nowhere to be seen.

  ‘Jake?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ he shook his head uneasily as he climbed into the car.

  There were too many strangers in his town for comfort.

  Elias Black watched from a distance as Jake got in his car and drove away. One by one the procession of cars left the graveyard until there was no one left but the grounds men filling in the most recently occupied grave.

  ‘Is it done?’ he asked quietly, his voice slightly muted by the constant fine drizzle of rain.

  ‘Of course it is,’ the deep sensual voice came from beside him. ‘I always keep to my end of a bargain.’

  Elias turned toward the woman in siren red, whom, strangely enough didn’t seem the slightest bit affected by the rain but instead remained immaculate and dry.

  ‘Marguerite,’ Elias greeted her with a low rumble.

  ‘Elias,’ her blood red lips curved into a dangerous smile. ‘My end of the deal upheld as promised. As of now the whole of Mercy, within the town’s limits, is vermin free.’

  ‘And the witnesses?’

  ‘Memories and records altered, with a few exceptions as stipulated,’ she replied. ‘As far as the town of Mercy is concerned the poor, dearly departed Chief died of natural causes and nothing untoward happened at the cop’s wedding. A good time was had by all, until the Chief keeled over that is.’

  Elias frowned.

  ‘Thank you, Marguerite.’

  ‘No thanks are necessary,’ she replied, ‘just uphold your end of the deal Elias.’

  ‘It’s already done,’ he nodded.

  ‘Then our business is concluded,’ her lips curved into a distinctly feline smile as she leaned in slowly and brushed her lips over his. ‘Let me know when you want to make it personal.’

  ‘I don’t mix business with pleasure Marguerite.’

  ‘But our business is finished,’ she smiled coyly.

  He turned his head to stare at her.

  ‘I wouldn’t be so sure about that,’ he replied evenly. ‘You know what’s coming as well as I do. Sooner or later you’re going to have to pick a side.’

  Her smile disappeared.

  ‘I’m the last crossroad keeper,’ she replied flatly. ‘I don’t have to do anything.’

  ‘Suit yourself,’ he shrugged.

  Her smile returned, ‘are you sure I can’t do anything else for you?’

  He shook his head.

  ‘Well,’ she purred, ‘you let me know if you change your mind.’

  He didn’t have to turn his head to know she was gone, but then again, his interest was already engaged elsewhere. The rain had once again reached a break. Pale rays of light were trying to break through the heavy gray cloud, the grass shone wetly and in the distance, standing staring down into the freshly filled grave, was a woman, one that he had not spoken to in a very, very long time.

  It was probably a bad idea under the circumstances, but his feet were moving before he could talk himself out of it. He approached slowly, stepping silently on the sodden ground to come to a stop just behind her.

  ‘Temperance,’ he said simply, his voice a low rumble almost lost on the breeze.

  She turned slowly to look at him, her eyes dark, almost a mirror of his own. He knew that pain, he’d felt it himself when his wife had died. A grief that deep, that profound, left scars. He knew because he bore his own, still, after all these years.

  She watched him silently. Her expression was neutral with not a hint of surprise considering she hadn’t seen him since Salem, 1684.

  ‘You don’t seem surprised to see me,’ he said quietly, breaking the heavy silence between them.

  ‘I’m not,’ she finally replied, ‘Logan… or should I say Elias?’

  He stared at her reflectively. Although he’d kept an eye on her since the moment she’d landed up in Mercy, back in 1982, he’d not stood face to face with her since she was a child. She was a woman now and it gave him a jolt to see so much of their mother in her face.

  But there was a hardness to her expression, a tightening around the eyes and so much anger, boiling just beneath the surface, ruthlessly controlled, but there none the less.

  ‘I suppose I should thank you,’ she told him coolly.

  ‘Thank me?’

  ‘My college education, the funding of my Mayoral campaign, or should I write another letter of appreciation to the Black Orchid Company?’

  ‘Temperance,’ he let out a regretful breath. ‘I wanted to tell you, but it wasn’t the right time.’

  ‘It wasn’t the right time to tell me my brother was still alive?’

  ‘I had my reasons,’ he frowned.

  ‘And those reasons wouldn’t have anything to do with the Nox?’ she replied dryly.

  His eyes widened.

  ‘You know about that too?’

  ‘Let�
��s just say I’ve had my eyes opened about a great many things these past few weeks.’ Her voice remained cool, controlled, so unlike the Temperance he’d watched from afar all these years.

  She even looked different. Gone were the tidy little business suits, and pastel twin sets. Her expensive pearl necklace and earrings were absent. Her hair, which had always been a shiny, smooth swing of chin length locks, was slightly longer, outgrown and a tousled mess of wild waves. Even her make-up was dark, giving her eyes a dangerous cast.

  ‘Temperance,’ he began, ‘I know I haven’t been here for you the way I should have. I don’t expect you to understand or to forgive me, but I had my reasons. I always tried to watch over you, to take care of you financially. Sam and I made sure that you were not only well taken care of but loved by the Burnetts. They were good people. I took care of you the only way I knew how, even though you didn’t know it. But you do know now. I can see how much pain you’re in. I know what it is to lose the person you love more than anything. I also know that grief can swallow you whole if you let it. Don’t let it take you to a dark place Tempy,’ he whispered. ‘Please… let me help you.’

  She handed him a piece of paper. Unfolding it carefully, he scanned over her neat handwriting.

  ‘Warehouse 47, Berry Street, 10pm’

  ‘What’s this?’ he looked back at her.

  ‘You want to help?’ she replied flatly, ‘be there tonight. I have something to show you.’

  20

  With the moon shining high above, casting an eerie glow across the lot, Elias gazed up at the small abandoned warehouse, with a huge number 47 painted on the side of the rusted exterior of the corrugated metal walls.

  He glanced around again, making sure he wasn’t followed, before skirting the building, keeping close to the shadows as he approached the door. It was covered with random graffiti but as he reached for the handle, his hand froze, and his gaze snagged on a small symbol concealed amongst the mess of tags.

  It was small, easily missed, but it was also no random symbol. It was a sigil. He scanned the door carefully, noticing several more.

  ‘Clever girl,’ he murmured, impressed at the sheer complexity of the spell work. It essentially hid the building and everything inside from everyone and everything. Even he shouldn’t have been able to find it, not with that level of cloaking.

  Frowning, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the scrap of paper his sister had given him. He read the note again, but this time he turned it over and sure enough, on the reverse side was a tiny little symbol, which essentially gave him permission to find the warehouse.

  Once again, his reluctant admiration for Temperance grew, as did his concern. The level of magic she was displaying was far beyond anything she should’ve been capable of.

  Both he and Sam had watched her very carefully, since the moment she’d been brought to Mercy. They knew she still had visions sometimes, but up until recently she’d been content to live a normal life and not embrace the gifts inherent to their bloodline. As far as he knew she’d received no instruction, no training. There was no way she could have produced magic like this. Which begged the question, had someone done it for her? And if so, who?

  He reached for the door again, whispering under his breath, the ancient language rolling easily from his tongue as his magic flooded his fingers, bathing the door in a purple glow. As he did the symbols began to pulse, burning brighter and after a second the door opened and swung inward.

  Turning his head and checking behind him once again, he stepped over the threshold and into the darkness. The door swung closed behind him with an ominous clunk, plunging him into complete blackness, although it didn’t bother him. He could see perfectly well in the dark.

  A small, amused smile curved the corner of his mouth momentarily as he recalled exactly how he’d come by that particular skill.

  He made his way quietly through the warehouse, past silent and rusted machinery, rat infested boxes and litter strewn floors, until he finally reached a large room in the back. The door was slightly ajar and from it spilled a column of light.

  ‘Come in Logan,’ Temperance’s voice echoed in the stillness. ‘We’ve been waiting for you.’

  ‘We?’ he thought to himself as he approached and slowly pushed the door open.

  The smell when it hit him was like a slaughterhouse. He gagged slightly and swallowed hard.

  The room wasn’t particularly large as he’d suspected but it was windowless, airless and unpleasant. The walls were smeared with years and years of built up dirt, and the floor was even worse. The bare floorboards in the center of the room bore a nasty reddish brown, congealed stain which could only have been dried blood… and a lot of it.

  But it was the middle-aged man, bound tightly to a metal chair directly over the gruesome stain, who drew his attention.

  His mouth was gagged, and his hands tied behind his back, anchored to the chair. Likewise, his ankles were similarly restrained. His white shirt, stained with a couple of errant droplets of blood, was unbuttoned at the collar revealing the smooth unmarred column of his tanned throat. His pants were navy blue pinstripe and finely tailored, even his shoes… Elias had expensive enough tastes of his own to recognize a pair of Ferragamo’s when he saw them.

  The man’s ebony hair was graying at the temples and neatly cut, although slightly sweaty and hanging forward into his eyes as he glared up at Elias hatefully.

  Although the man was quite clearly being held against his will, the only evidence of any injury was a small smudge of blood dripping from his left nostril onto his expensive shirt.

  Elias’s gaze once again dropped to the gruesome stain on the floor and he wondered who that blood belonged to, as it clearly didn’t come from the man in the chair.

  ‘Logan,’ Temperance’s low voice echoed slightly in the airless room. ‘I’d like to introduce you to Christofano Moretti.’

  Elias glanced questioningly at his sister who stood at the bound man’s shoulder.

  ‘Perhaps this will help,’ she leaned forward and pulled up his sleeve, revealing a familiar mark.

  ‘Veritas,’ Elias replied coolly, ‘I should’ve guessed.’

  ‘Not just Veritas,’ Temperance smiled slowly, and there was something dark in that smile, something that made Elias’s stomach clench.

  He watched as she reached up, her long elegant fingers, tipped with a dark blackberry color, dipped into his collar and drew out a pendant. She wrapped her fingers around it and tugged hard, snapping the fine chain it was suspended from and tossing it to Elias.

  He caught it easily and looked down as he unfurled his palm. Sitting there was a small black ankh, the curve of which was a serpent, attached to a delicate black chain. He turned the ankh over and found the number three etched into the metal. His eyes widened in sudden realization.

  ‘He’s one of the five?’ he breathed.

  Temperance nodded.

  ‘But how?’ he frowned.

  The five were the five most highly ranking members of the Veritas, answering to Faraday only, and so highly placed within the organization, they were never seen. Even their identities were a closely guarded secret. There was no way Temperance could have found him and kidnapped him alone; she must’ve had help.

  ‘What have you done Temperance?’ he whispered.

  ‘I’ve had my eyes opened,’ she answered, ‘and now I see everything so clearly.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she replied briskly. ‘I thought you’d like to be here for this, given everything the Veritas has taken from you.’

  ‘For what?’ Elias’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

  She smiled again as she reached out and pulled the gag off the man’s mouth.

  ‘YOU BITCH,’ he hissed, ‘I’ll have you dissected for this. I’ll make sure they strap you to a gurney and cut you open slowly while I…’

  ‘Silence,’ Temperance remarked quietly.

  Instantly the man�
��s tirade cut short and his eyes widened in alarm when he realized he no longer had a mouth. His lips had sealed together and disappeared until all there was, was smooth skin stretched over his jaw all the way to his nostrils.

  ‘That’s better,’ she replied. ‘Christofano, you need to understand one thing. You are not in charge here. I am. I’ll be asking you some questions. If you answer you won’t suffer; if you don’t, things will become even more unpleasant for you.’

  Suddenly his mouth reappeared, and he dragged in a deep, shuddering gasp of air.

  ‘Now then,’ she circled him slowly. ‘We’d like to know where our brother is.’

  ‘Go to hell,’ he growled.

  ‘I don’t think you understand the rules,’ she admonished.

  She raised her hand slowly, giving no other outward sign she was doing anything. There was no muttering, no chanting, no spell work but suddenly he arched his back and began making choking noises. Sweat began to bloom at the armpits of his once pristine shirt and protruding from the open collar were thick black, ropey vines, which crawled up his neck, over his jaw and spread out across his cheeks.

  It took Elias a moment to realize that the vines were actually his veins, dilating and protruding through his skin and filled with an inky black substance he couldn’t even begin to guess at.

  This was another level of magic altogether.

  Suddenly, he let out another gasp as he drew in air and slumped back into the seat.

  ‘Now let’s try that again,’ she smiled sweetly. ‘Where is Theo being held?’

  ‘You’ll never get to him,’ Christofano breathed heavily as a fat bead of sweat rolled down his temple.

  ‘That’s not what I asked,’ Temperance replied.

  He stiffened again, arching back as the painful blackened veins spread and throbbed. This time he let out a cry of agony, which had Elias almost wincing, if it wasn’t for the fact he despised the Veritas, and everyone who was a part of it.

  No, the one thing that concerned him was, not only the level of magic his sister was suddenly displaying, but the cold, callous way with which she was dispensing it. He had no doubt in his mind that Christofano Moretti deserved everything that was coming to him. After all it was probably a lot less than he himself had inflicted upon others, but it didn’t make Elias any less concerned about what was going on in Temperance’s head.