by Kailin Gow
“We also know that Dr. Kingsley had several communications with Shadow Light,” Moore interjected.
“Perhaps the answers you seek reside in this Dr. Kingsley. Your hop across the pond may have been in vain.”
“Unfortunately, Dr. Kingsley is no longer with us,” I said. “And his death has left the burden of mending this open portal to his nephew, Braxton. We’ve come here with him in the hopes of helping him.”
The man’s expression changed dramatically at the mention of Dr. Kingsley’s death. “Did you say his death?”
Feeling a shift in his emotions and deducing he’d known Dr. Kingsley, I nodded solemnly. “He was killed by a demon. It truly devastated everyone. In addition to the loss of someone we all loved and cared about, we also have a batch of stronger demons to contend with. Please,” I said as I reached out to him. “Is there anything you can do to help us?”
He turned away, troubled by the news I’d given him. For a long moment he faced the large crucifix behind the altar. “Kingsley has a nephew,” he finally said in a small remote voice.
Frowning I gazed at Moore and he nodded. “Yes,” I said.
“And he is now the gatekeeper?”
“Yes.”
Turning to face us, he shoved each hand in the other’s sleeve. “Is he here? In Italy?”
Unsure of this man’s motives, I hesitated.
“If he’s been designated the next gatekeeper, it’s imperative I know about it. You must take me to him and we have to move fast.”
Still reluctant, I gazed at Moore for guidance.
“Please,” the man said. It was his turn to reach out for me. “We really have to act quickly.”
“I don’t want to offend you, sir, but I can’t take the chance of putting Braxton in harm’s way. Tell me what you know about the secret society Dr. Kingsley was a part of. Tell me who this Shadow Light is.”
His grip tightened on my wrist, but not with aggression or anger, but with urgency and need. “I will tell you everything, but please, let me find this nephew of Kingsley’s.”
Guarded and tense, I turned to Moore who nodded. Seeing his clenched fists, I knew he was ready for any eventuality.
“You better take the lead, Moore. I wasn’t really paying attention when you brought me here.”
The older man shot me a curious glance, but made no comment. We followed Moore out and wove through the narrow streets. Every street corner seemed to look like the last and before long I was completely disoriented.
“We’ve known this was urgent from the beginning, but why does this have you so worried?” asked the man as I tried to recognize the streets we passed.
The older man looked at me as he pulled his hood over his head. “As the powers transfer, so do the responsibilities. With Kingsley gone, a replacement much quickly be put in place. Kingsley was raising this nephew, was he not?”
“Yes, Braxton lived with his uncle until his death. I believe they spent a lot of time together and Dr. Kingsley tried to take a place in Brax’s life after the loss of his parents.”
“We just have to hope that he’s been grooming him for this. Hopefully Kingsley considered what would happen if ever he died.”
“I’m not really sure whether he did or not.”
I suddenly wanted to find Braxton and fast. “Are you sure we’re headed the right way?” I asked Moore. With every step I felt the sense of urgency grow.
Before Moore could answer me, the small eatery we’d left Asher and Brax in came into view.
“Hey, where’d you guys run off to?” Asher said as he dropped the remnants of his pizza crust onto his plate. “We wanted to wait for you before eating, but you guys never showed. We saved you some pizza, but it might be a bit cold and…”
His voice trailed off and his eyes met with those of the hooded man who’d followed us in. “Who’s your new friend?”
Brax looked up, his eyes searching for recognition as he looked into the blue eyes of the man. He took another bite of his pizza, but it was clear his attention was entirely on the man in the cloak and not on his food. “I know you,” he finally said.
The older man poked his hand out from under his cloak and held it out to Brax. “And you must be Kingsley’s nephew. I do believe I see a small family resemblance.”
Brax remained oddly cold and indifferent. “You came to visit my uncle once. You two spent hours in his study, talking.”
Nodding, the man let out a dark chuckle. He pulled back the chair beside Braxton and sat down, his eyes pleased as he looked at the nephew he’d seen before.
“Who are you?” Brax said.
“Yeah,” Asher shot in with a defensive tone. “Who are you?”
Moore and I stood, watching and waiting.
Suddenly unhurried and relaxed, the man pulled a slice of pizza from the large plate set in the center of the table and took a big hungry bite. He chewed, slowly, languidly, as if he had all the time in the world. “Never waste perfectly good pizza,” he said.
Watching him take another bite, I was suddenly famished. The scent of spicy tomato sauce came to my nostrils and I sat down to take a large piece.
Pleased, this strange man who’d been so rushed moments earlier, looked at me with a grin. “Bloody good pizza.” He held up his slice to show me then glanced up at Moore who still stood, waiting. “Pull up a chair and have pizza.”
“You made me race across town to get you to Brax,” he argued. “And now you want me to sit back and eat some damned pizza.”
“Moore, please. Give him a chance.” I reached up to grasp his fingers and soothe him.
“Who are you and what do you want with Brax… with us?”
“Please,” the man said. “Sit down. I will tell you everything.”
Chapter 9
Time to Mend
He finally introduced himself as Markus, though he offered little more in the way of information. The pizza seemed to please him immensely, as though he’d not eaten in days, and while he questioned us on our trip to Italy, our appreciation of our surroundings and the people we’d met so far, he didn’t delve too deeply in our backgrounds, angelic, demonic, or otherwise.
There was no talk of the events Moore and I had witnessed at the small chapel, and he almost gave the appearance of a plain and rather ordinary man, hooded cloak aside.
I bit back a hundred and one questions, and I could see the guys were anxious to see the conversation elevate to something more profound, but Markus seemed intent on keeping the discussion light.
“Okay,” he said after an eternal amount of chewing on his last bite. He clapped his hands free of any remaining flour and crumbs, in no way rushed to finish his thought. “I think I may have something of interest to show you chaps. What sort of transportation have you been relying on since your arrival?”
“We have a rental,” Moore said with some impatience and bitterness. “A small rental.”
“Think you can squeeze me in?”
We left the small eatery and soon found out.
As it turned out, it was a tight squeeze, but we all managed to get into the car. Markus took the front passenger seat and, with more finesse and just as much accuracy as any GPS, he guided us out of Velletri and onto the country roads of Italy.
Markus offered various comments on the expansive villas we passed and told us a bit about the history of the province of Latina, through which we drove. But for all his chatter, there was nothing profound or pertinent… it was all interesting, but trivial.
Scrunched up between Braxton and Asher in the back seat, I gazed from one to the other as Markus continued his idle chatter. Asher shrugged his shoulders, which cause a bit of a domino effect across the seat, and Brax simply stared at Markus as though preparing for an attack.
His face solemn, he reached for my hand and squeezed my fingers. Though we lacked the liberty to speak aloud our doubts and suspicions, I could feel Braxton’s fear in his very fingertips. He was unsure of this hooded man, this Markus who l
ed us to undisclosed destinations.
I concentrated my gaze on the sceneries we passed, not so much in an attempt to enjoy the ride, but more to remember the roads we’d taken and the twists and turns. Somehow I need to grasp something concrete, like where we were exactly and where we were going. I couldn’t help but feel disturbed by the ignorance Markus kept us in and being able to itemize the various views gave me a bit of reassurance and a sense of security, however false that sense of security might be.
The makings of a small town began to creep through the picturesque countryside and soon we were driving through cramped streets and up to an imposing monastery.
“Impressive, is it not?” Markus said as he stepped out of the car and stretched his limbs.
We all looked at the building that was indeed impressive.
“The beauty of gothic straight from twelfth century,” he went on as he led us to the double arched gate. “The architecture was meant to be somewhat sedate, almost austere, all the better to pray without distraction.”
For all its austerity, there remained something opulent about the building.
In the distance we could hear the faint echoes of chants, dark and mysterious in their melodies; haunting in their harmonies.
My breath was immediately taken away as we entered the church. Two wide aisles led to the chancel, accented with streamlined pilasters. The enormous vaulted ceiling, so high above us, was painted with various biblical scenes.
Though the scenes depicted were angelic, uplifting and celestial, I felt the tension that passed from me to Moore, to Brax, to Asher and back to me with added intensity.
Thankfully, a few people sat in the front pews, their heads bowed in prayer. I found a degree of comfort in knowing we weren’t alone.
Markus took on a reverent stance as he walked down the aisle. He led us out to the cloister then opened a small and uninviting door. A dark and narrow stairwell greeted us and the tension I’d felt from the guys moments earlier was multiplied tenfold.
The chants could be heard louder now, bringing parishioners to great heights of prayer, and no doubt bringing solace and enjoyment to the young monks who milled about with various chores. But the chants seemed to bring only an added weight to our ever growing uncertainty.
Each step we set our foot to was cracked, chipped and uneven, making our descent into the darkened belly of the monastery a tedious undertaking. I had to steady myself on the cold and clammy walls. As we reached the last step, the ceiling seemed to fall down over us, making everyone have to stoop in order to avoid smashing their heads.
In sharp contrast to the high ceiling, celestial images and heavenly light of the church above, the under belly had a ceiling that left Asher and Moore in a perpetual hunch. After a few meandering corridors, we emerged into a large den that was both surprising in its beauty and disturbing in its richness.
Ornately carved bookshelves lined one wall while a large and majestic oak table took up the center of the large room. The ceiling rose, coming to spike in the center, right above the table. At the table sat two men, both intent on the computer screen before them. They appeared to be in the same age bracket as Markus, but were dressed more in the fashion of Dr. Kingsley as opposed to that of Markus.
At first sight they gave the impression of being academics, rather than priest demon slayers, like Markus. My curiosity was piqued as I tried to connect the dots. What did these men have in common with one another and what did they all have to do with us? It was hard to imagine these two finely dressed men involved in anything demonic. It was impossible to think they could possibly hold the key to ridding Brax and Moore of their curse.
The smaller, more delicate of the two stood and looked directly at me. After a moment of scrutiny, he removed his glasses and gazed briefly at Brax, Moore and Asher before bringing his gaze back to me. Without his glasses and with the hint of a tense smile on his lips, he appeared a little younger than I'd originally thought. Still very handsome, he had a tight, square jaw that made him look serious and subdued, but with eyes that blazed with mischief and a touch of danger.
Beside him, the broader and slightly more portly man remained seated, almost unaware of our arrival. There was something a bit European about him, though I couldn't quite put my finger on what country. There was something almost Grecian in his profile, but he had startlingly blond hair.
Though he'd surely been very handsome when younger and thinner, there was something intriguing and attractive about him. He exuded confidence, almost arrogance. Perhaps it was in the way he barely gazed our way, or in the slight smirk that came to his lips when he did.
"Who among you is called Braxton?" the dark haired man asked.
For a tense and silent moment, no one responded. Then Braxton stepped forward. "I'm Braxton Kingsley."
"Good. Good. And I'm Gordon Green." He gazed down at his silent partner and arched a tense brow as he tilted his head toward us.
As he stood, the fair-haired man seemed intent on avoiding my gaze. I swallowed the sudden sense of self consciousness that came over me. I'd often felt uncomfortable under intense scrutiny and detested having anyone stare boldly at me, but something in the way he avoided me... it touched an odd chord inside.
"My name is John," he said. His full height was impressive and I could now see that he wasn't portly, but built like a bulldozer. His arms were thick and muscular, even through the tight button up shirt. His massive chest stretched the shirt taunt.
"I sent an email to one of you," Brax said. "Which one of you is Shadowlight?"
Markus went to stand beside John and Gordon. "We are," they said in unison.
Brax glanced back at us, a frown of frustration and confusion on his brow. "What?" he said as he turned back to the threesome. Shadowlight isn't just one person?"
"No," Markus said. "It's all of us. We form Shadow Light, along with your uncle, Dr. Kingsley."
"And what, exactly, is Shadow Light?" I asked as I stepped forward. We'd wasted enough time and I was anxious to get to the point. For the past few hours we’d heard nothing but the idle ramblings of an older Englishman and I now wanted answers; real answers.
Gordon and John exchanged annoyed glances then looked at Asher and me.
"If anyone should know, it would be the two of you," Gordon said.
"So I assume it has something to do with angels, then," Asher said.
Gordon nodded. "Yes. Shadow Light is the light and energy source of angels. The light takes away the shadows. Or, if you prefer, it's an allegory for demon slayers blessed by sight and aided by angels who take away the darkness... the shadows."
I glanced at Asher and could see he'd never heard of such a thing. Turning back to the men, I said, "So, does that mean that you're demon slayers and not angel?"
"That's right," Gordon said. He clasped his hands in front of him, giving him a more academic look than he'd already had.
"And can you help us find what we need to do to close the gates that have been opened in San Francisco?"
Gordon looked to John and Markus before answering. "Yes."
"And what about the curse that's been put on Moore and Braxton?"
"There are as many curses as there are lost souls. It depends on the nature of the curse. Do you know what curse it is that they live with?"
"They're both turning into demons. It was a slow transformation at first, but since the portal's been opened, the change has been coming surprisingly fast. That's why we came out to find you guys. Do you think you can help them?"
All three men looked at each other, as though a silence conference was quickly being held between them. Eyes narrowed, lips tensed and all three gave a barely perceptible nod. Without more warning than that, Markus and Gordon charged Brax, while John turned his attention to Moore. All brandished their crucifixes and for a frightening moment, I froze.
"Hey," Asher shouted, springing me into action.
I hurried to step between John and Moore, while Asher quickly moved in to block Gor
don and Markus from Braxton.
"What are you guys doing?" I blurted out. "I thought you said you could help rid them of the curse."
"We can," John said, his crucifix still held up and ready to slay. "By slaying them."
"Are you crazy?" I shouted. "That's not what we came here for." Maintaining my fighting stance, I turned my angry gaze to Markus. "I thought you were bringing us here to help us, not slay my friends."
Chapter 10
Drop of Truth
The determination in their eyes was intimidating. Despite my years of experience, despite the hundreds of situations I’d been in over the years and the thousands of demons I’d slain, I felt small and out of my league before these demon-slaying men of age and wisdom.
How long had these guys been at it? How many slain demons did they have under their belts? How easy had it become to slay a demon?
Gordon finally softened his gaze somewhat and took a step toward me.
I wasn’t fooled by this gentler approach and remained on guard.
“The last thing we want to do is hurt you, Lux.”
The hairs at the back of my neck instantly rose at the sound of my name on his lips. Though I might have mentioned it to Markus as we’d sat down to pizza, I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that it had not been told to Gordon.
“We really don’t want to hurt you at all,” John added. For the first time, his gaze remained steadily on me. As harsh as he’d been since our arrival, his eyes softened and even he looked concerned and moved. For a moment of hesitation, he turned a quizzical gaze to Gordon then faced me with a warm smile. “I can hardly believe how you’ve grown into such a beautiful and smart young woman.”
The foreboding chill that’d spiked the hairs at my back now sent off a series of alarms throughout my body. There was more going on here than the mere attempt to slay Moore and Brax. This was more than a simple attempt to close the portal.
“I’m so pleased with how you turned out, Lux.”
