Inception

by Teal Haviland

  Lucas.

  The new thought interrupted the direction of the other, and he felt his scowl deepen. He shook his head to remove the image accompanying the human’s name—the one with Gabrielle in Lucas’s embrace.

  He’s just a human. What pleasure could she derive from him?

  Javan considered the possible explanations why Gabrielle would come here because of Lucas. He couldn’t come to any satisfying conclusions. She hadn’t been cast out of Heaven. That was made clear two nights before when she paused time outside Lucas’s house.

  Something tugged at the fringes of Javan’s memory.

  There is something about that street—that house.

  It was a feeling he hadn’t been able to shake since he and Mara waited for Gabrielle that night. Something his gut was trying to tell him. The unfailing memory of an angel was one of the casualties of his fall, and now there was an annoying blank chasm in his mind. Sometimes, Javan wondered if there was a block in his mind that was put there intentionally. There were—certain—angels, Fallen and Divine, who could do something like that.

  But for what purpose?

  His attention that night had continually strayed to the house Lucas later entered. Whatever his mind wanted him to remember wasn’t ready to step out of the darkness it hid within. Javan sighed. He rubbed his temple with his finger, trying to will the images forward—beckoning to them to step into the light of his consciousness. Again, they disobeyed.

  But the teasing memory did assist him with one thing—it gave him a direction for the moment, and a direction had been evading him since he left his loft. He turned his car around in the middle of the road, ignoring the oncoming traffic, almost causing an accident. Car horns blared in protest, and he caught more than a couple of middle fingers. Javan chuckled humorlessly as he accelerated, screeching the car’s tires.

  Almost instantly, he heard the siren. He looked into his rearview mirror to see flashing lights. Javan let out another sigh. He would have to take care of this in his own way. He didn’t have a license or any other form of identification, for that matter.

  He looked around for somewhere that would allow the least amount of eyes to witness what would happen. The sun was falling deeper into the horizon, so the world of shadows would gain its stronghold quickly.

  The time of day is on my side.

  He let his eyes linger on the car behind him for just a moment. There was only one person in the patrol car. He grinned as he spotted a suitable location and made a right turn down an industrial road. It was almost barren of people as their commute to get back home from work had begun long ago. Javan pulled into an empty parking lot behind the building.

  The patrol car pulled in behind him. The officer began to gather his things and opened his door. As he crouched slightly behind it to use as a shield, he put his hand on the gun at his waist. Javan felt another arrogant chuckle.

  The door isn’t going to help you … either is the gun.

  “Step out of the car with your hands in the air!”

  Javan did as he was instructed, allowing the officer to feel he had the situation under control. The officer slipped out from behind the door of his police cruiser and continued toward him, barking another demand.

  “Slowly walk to the back of your car and place your hands on the trunk with your legs spread.”

  Once again, he complied, smirking at thoughts of the fun he was about to have.

  Javan couldn’t see, but felt the officer getting closer. He shut his eyes and concentrated—feeling the features of his face begin to distort and move into beastly contours and angles while he released his glamour just enough to get the result he wanted.

  This was Javan’s preferred method of dealing with humans—terrify them to the point that he sent them to a place in their mind that made it basically shut down. Javan thought of the fragility of the human behind him—so sure of himself with his training and gun under his hand. Guns couldn’t do anything to Javan except force him to find a new body. But the officer would never get the chance to use his weapon.

  Depending on the individual’s fortitude, what Javan was about to do could leave the person who witnessed it in a state ranging from severe shock to complete detachment from the world around them. They might recover from it and think it was just an awful dream, or it could drive them over the mental edges of sanity.

  Death is another possible outcome.

  A cruel smirk reshaped his mouth.

  The hands of the officer began to pat him down. When he was satisfied Javan had no weapons, or anything of interest, he stepped back.

  The sound of his voice was more relaxed as he spoke again. “Sir, I need to see your driver’s license and insurance.”

  “Of course. It’s in my car. Is it okay if I get it now, officer?” Javan used his most soothing, sincere voice.

  A completely unguarded human mind is the most fun to fuck with.

  “Just move slowly.”

  “Yes, officer.”

  Javan did as he was instructed and carefully moved his body off the trunk of his car. As he made his way around the bumper, he slowed his movements.

  “Officer, what am I being pulled over for, anyway?” Javan began to turn his body slightly toward the man, his head following slowly so his face was the last thing to be seen.

  “You’re kidding, right?” The officer asked and then continued, not waiting for an answer. “Sir, you almost caused at least three accidents back there when y—” he was unable to finish.

  The officer now saw the face of the man he was addressing—realizing it was no man at all. Javan saw terror swell in his eyes, the color draining from his face. The officer was trying to say something as his lips moved reluctantly, but he appeared to be unable create a coherent thought to form the words. Javan wondered if the human even had breath in his lungs to push words out of his mouth.

  Javan glared menacingly into the man’s eyes, speaking to him in his mind, creating images of the monsters of his childhood and adult nightmares. He could almost see the man’s mind trying to make sense of what he saw in front of him, trying to figure out why he heard a voice echoing in his head that was not his own. Javan smiled enough to let him see darkened, jagged teeth. The man flinched but couldn’t seem to will any other movement from his body, his hand still on his gun. As Javan had suspected, he wouldn’t have to defend himself from the threat it posed—this man was far too stunned to do anything. The officer, still staring, growing increasingly distant from what he thought was reality, fell to his knees.

  A feeling of triumph rushed through Javan from the power he had over this human. He’d take so much pleasure in the moment every living thing, including his former brethren, fell to their knees before him.

  What will be most satisfying is Yahuwah bowing to me.

  He was pulled from his musing by the sound of the officer hyperventilating. Javan scoffed and turned to get back into his car, leaving the man on his knees. Just before he pulled away, he looked to see if he had attempted to move at all. Javan smiled.

  The man had moved—he had placed his gun under his chin. Javan heard the shot as he turned back onto the main road and huffed out a snide laugh in satisfaction.

  “Guess you were one of the weaker ones.”

  Javan sat in his car in the same spot on Haber Drive as he had two nights before while waiting for Gabrielle. He’d been fixated on the bungalow house Lucas entered for at least thirty minutes. Still nothing broke through his subconscious.

  What the hell is it about that place?

  He heard voices across the street and let his attention divert toward the sound. The people Gabrielle had been to see last weekend were coming outside. Two of them, who Javan guessed were the mother and father, carried out trays with food as a small child dragged a large quilt behind her. Two more, the teens, carried out a full pitcher, plastic cups, and plates.

  After spreading the quilt on the grass under the sprawling branches of a big oak, they sat in a semicircle and bega
n to eat. The sound of the door opening at the house Lucas lived in pulled Javan’s attention back to where it needed to be. An older woman with white hair turned to pull the door closed behind her.

  Javan watched as she crossed the street and joined the others under the tree but became distracted with a feeling he knew all too well—someone with Divine blood was close. Carefully, he looked around at his surroundings, then up toward the sky. When he couldn’t find the source for what he was feeling, he directed his attention back to the oak. Everyone seemed to be truly happy. Javan shook his head and smirked.

  “Ignorance is bliss.”

  He never understood how people could be so stupid not to notice those of the Underworld and Shadow World they shared space with.

  Although he thought he checked thoroughly, he was distracted once again, still sensing there was someone near. He shifted and looked around again—nothing. His real concern was Gabrielle. If she were going to join the festivities, he would move on. He wasn’t powerful enough for a confrontation with her, not yet. But more than that, he was hoping not to cross paths with her again until he figured out how to make her want to be with him again. Judging by her response the other night, she would more likely kill him right now than take him back.

  I don’t ever want to see that look of sadness and disgust on her face again and know it’s because of me.

  The feeling remained steady even after fifteen more minutes had passed. Whoever was causing it wasn’t moving around, making him wonder if he was being watched. He would have let it go if it weren’t for a new feeling. I’ve crossed paths with whoever this is before, and it’s definitely not Gabrielle.

  The white-haired woman began laughing, tossing her head back as she did. Javan studied her as the group conversed. The tugs on his memory were more urgent. There was clearly something he needed to remember about that house and the woman living in it.

  He watched them finish their meal, and then the older woman cut and served her pie. The two teens and child began a game of tag. Now that they were out of earshot of the younger ones, the adults shifted the conversation to something more serious. At least, that was what their expressions and body language indicated.

  They moved themselves into a tighter circle, leaning in toward each other. Javan guessed it was so they could speak privately. He was only able to see the older woman’s expression sporadically and only from just below her eyes up. He saw something in her eyes he recognized, and a memory from seventeen years ago burst forth.

  His breath caught in his chest as images flooded back to him. Instinctively, his hand went to the left side of his face and traced the scar that ran jaggedly from his ear, down his jaw line and to the front and middle of his throat. He could almost hear the sizzle of his skin as the Sundering Whip grazed it and feel the awful, burning pain it caused. A growl rumbled in his throat as he replayed the image of the whip as it split his flesh.

  Now he knew why the street, the house, and that woman were familiar to him. She was the one who came into the house when he killed Mason Hunt and his family.

  “Bitch!”

  He hissed the word as though it was as a weapon that could strike her down. The desire for revenge surged inside him, seeping into every part of his body, causing a rage of ideas for retribution to flood his mind.

  “Your turn at the receiving end of a Sundering Whip is coming.”

  He wanted his revenge on this angel to be slow and painful. He wanted her to experience the pain her strike had caused him on her own skin. He wanted her to suffer in ways she never imagined. He wanted to enjoy seeing her in agony in a place she could never be found.

  I want the human living in your home who thinks he deserves to be with Gabrielle to join you in that eternal misery.

  And once he became the Destroyer, he could ensure it would be eternal.

  As he sat in his car, tossing early ideas for vengeance around in his mind, a crow passed his car and landed on a limb of the oak. He watched as it turned and looked directly at him—cawing once as if to say hello.

  “Ahh … the messenger of the gods,” he said and laughed snidely. Then he repeated a counting rhyme he’d heard many, many years ago.

  One crow for sorrow,

  Two Crows for mirth,

  Three Crows for a wedding,

  Four Crows for a birth,

  Five Crows for silver,

  Six Crows for gold,

  Seven Crows for a secret, not to be told,

  Eight Crows for heaven,

  Nine Crows for hell,

  And ten Crows for the devil’s own self.

  Before he finished the rhyme, more crows joined the first one in the large oak. They were all turned toward his car, their eyes fixed on him. Javan counted the birds. When he finished, he said the number aloud.

  “Nine.”

  Another crow landed on the driver’s side windshield wiper of Javan’s car. It studied Javan, then spread its wings as it lowered its head and cawed.

  “Ten.” Javan smirked. “Hello back.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  LUCAS ~ NO ESCAPE

  Lucas took in the scenery as Gabby pulled onto a small side street flanked by large, two and three story brick and stone homes. Some looked as if they were small hotels, and others were lined with hedges so high he was barely able to see the houses as they passed. The driveways became further apart as the property sizes grew larger.

  After driving several more blocks, she finally turned into a driveway between some of those high hedges. The towering shrubs weren’t able to hide the structure behind them anymore.

  “Wow …”

  The house was massive. Americans would have classified it as a mansion. The grounds were perfectly groomed, and he saw a sizeable garden behind it. From what he could tell, there was a maze hedge, as well.

  Gabby pulled around the circular driveway until she stopped at the steps to the front door, ignoring the spaces right next to them for parking. Lucas looked at them with a puzzled expression.

  Gabby glanced at Lucas. “It doesn’t matter,” she said in response to his unspoken question. “They aren’t accustomed to day visitors, and I assure you, we’ll be half way back to London before the sun even gets close to the horizon. I’m not taking any more chances than needed.” She shot him a perturbed look. “Unlike some of us.”

  They got out of the car and Lucas waited for Gabby before continuing up the steps. The butterflies he had in his stomach when they were leaving Nashville were now more like full-grown condors. It didn’t help his apprehensive feelings or nervous stomach when a crow drifted down and landed on the roof above the entry, then another did the same with every step they took.

  “Seriously,” Lucas began, “I’m beginning to get completely freaked out by the crows. Does it mean something?” He looked at her, then back to the crows. As usual, they were staring back.

  Gabby’s expression was troubled. She didn’t take her eyes off the birds as she responded, looking at each of them as if she were counting. When she finished her assessment her brows drew closer together.

  “You don’t want to know, Lucas.”

  Yeah … I probably don’t.

  The front door opened before they climbed the last step, and Lucas found himself even more apprehensive about looking at who—what—opened it. Gabby put her hand on his shoulder as she leaned in to whisper in his ear.

  “She’s human.”

  He looked up and saw an attractive blond holding the door open for them. With her hazel eyes, full, red lips, and model looks, she would have turned most men’s heads.

  She would have turned mine, too, over a month ago.

  Though now that he’d met Gabby and fallen for her, he couldn’t imagine anyone holding a candle to her in any way. Now the most he thought of this woman was that she was attractive. The blond looked at Gabby and then him, moving her eyes slowly over his body. When she found his eyes, a flirtatious smile spread across her face.

  “Welcome.” Her eyes sta
yed on Lucas as they entered the house. “The Elders are expecting you.” The Elders’ greeter stayed several steps behind Gabby and him, but he could feel her eyes on him, anyway. They paused at the end of the long entry until the woman could move ahead to guide them.

  Gabby seemed oblivious to the opulent surroundings. Lucas could only imagine how this must pale in comparison to the things she’d experienced. As they continued walking in silence, Lucas wondered what it must be like to live the life she had, thinking back to their conversation about how different things were for them when he was at her home in Nashville.

  Right before her vision about the attack. From vampires like I am about to meet. Vampires, for crying out loud.

  Lucas shook his head slightly as he thought about what he was doing and how the differences between the lives he and Gabby had lived—would continue to live—were becoming more apparent with every day they spent together.

  More distinct than Lucas wanted to face.

  Unlike Gabby, he was impressed with the Elders’ home, to say the least. Paintings, some he recognized from his fine arts class, adorned the walls in both rooms that flanked either side of the entry. He guessed that at least some of them were authentic. The room to the right must have been intended for a sitting room, but the velvet covered couches and chairs didn’t show signs of wear. He wondered if they had ever been used at all.

  Heavy burgundy drapes hung from windows at least ten feet high, the fabric pulled back and pooled on the floor. Lucas studied the floor for several seconds. He’d never seen wood like that and wondered what exotic place it had been shipped in from. He was about to turn his attention to the room on the left when their escort interrupted his pondering.