by Adam Dark
Then the stranger without a face spun around again and lifted one hand toward the sky. A bright white bolt of light shot from his palm and hurtled up into the streetlamp, immediately followed by another aimed toward the lamppost farther down the street. Ben heard shattering glass, the green lights flickered out into blackness, and everything was gone.
26
“—okay?”
That was April’s voice beside him. Ben stumbled forward again, only to find that instead of being on the stoop in front of Richard Monday’s front door, he was standing on the narrow sidewalk again, facing the house. Right where he’d been before the streetlights turned green. And they’d now gone back to normal, that yellow light painting everything again as the world moved around him in real time.
“Jesus,” Ben muttered, righting himself and reaching out to grab April’s hand. “We gotta get inside.” He pretty much jerked April forward after him, almost running toward the stairs. Again.
“For real, man,” Peter said behind him through chattering teeth. “What’s going on?”
“I’ll tell you later,” Ben grunted, taking those stairs faster than he’d ever climbed anything in his life.
“Did you see something?” April asked. “Ben, what did you see?”
When they stepped onto the stoop, Richard Monday’s front door swung open, and Ben’s déjà vu overwhelmed him. “That,” he muttered, but when nobody leapt through the doorway to start blasting at absolutely nothing behind them—yet—Ben pulled April quickly into the house, followed closely by Peter and Chase.
‘Ben!’ Ian shouted.
Ben ducked and winced against the piercing volume of the guy’s voice in his head. “What?” he yelled back. He heard the door close, then he turned around to see April, Peter, and Chase all staring at him in surprise and not as much concern as the situation warranted. Anton was also there, his tanned fingers resting lightly on the doorknob. Richard’s butler—manservant?—regarded Ben with something like understanding and pity mixed together, the way a doctor looked at their patient right before delivering the worst-case scenario about their health.
“Welcome,” the man said instead, sliding his fingers off the doorknob. “They’re waiting for you.” He gestured with an open arm down the foyer of this insanely stuffed house, and Ben just blinked at him.
‘You couldn’t hear me, could you?’ Ian asked softly. Ben guessed it was in just as much confusion, relief, anger, and fear as the combination of all those things rushing through him right now too.
Not until we stepped inside, he replied, turning down the foyer with April’s hand still in his. She gave it a little squeeze, and he thought that if he looked at her right now, he wouldn’t be able to keep going. So he just squeezed her hand in return and started down the hall lined with paintings of death in gruesome detail. Apparently, Anton wasn’t guiding them anywhere tonight.
“What happened back there?” Peter asked behind them. All four sets of their footsteps echoed on the polished floors.
“That’s one of the things I’m hoping to find out,” Ben muttered, walking beside the massive staircase rising on the other side of the foyer until he turned to his right and passed under it. The fact that nobody was here to take them back down into the basement this time made the whole thing even creepier. They had to actually choose to retrace their steps from the last time they were here, and while Ben didn’t really enjoy remembering exactly how to get back there, the emptiness of this house made it perfectly clear that everyone assumed he would.
Behind the staircase, they came to Richard Monday’s office, the double doors standing wide open, as if the man hadn’t shut them at all since Ben and the others had stalked right through them three nights ago and out of this house, hoping to never be back here again. At least, Ben had hoped for that.
‘Never thought I’d say I’m glad we made it,’ Ian offered.
He might as well have been speaking for them both. Because whatever huge demon was after Ben now was obviously powerful enough to keep Ian out of his mind for a while. Or at least cut off their connection. Which at this point was just about as bad as it could get without Ben actually dying first.
‘You’d miss me, wouldn’t you?’ Ian’s attempt to joke about it didn’t quite feel as solid as every other bad joke he made.
I’d miss being alive just a little more, I think, Ben replied.
They stepped through the open doors of Richard’s study to find the place pretty much untouched. The dark curtain on the back wall, though, had already been swept aside in anticipation of their arrival. Probably. And the hydraulic door that slid behind that steel wall was still open too, letting out that bright blue glow that pretty much guaranteed they’d be safe from whatever had just tried to stop Ben outside. Hopefully. The people waiting for them at the bottom of those stairs, though—the Sectarian Circle in general—were a completely different story.
Swallowing thickly, Ben had to let go of April’s hand, only because the staircase wasn’t wide enough for them to walk down it side by side. Now more than ever, he felt like he was descending into a completely different world when he took the first step, and beyond the fact that he had no idea what exactly that world entailed, he didn’t know if he’d ever manage to come back from it. If there even was any coming back from it.
A few more steps down, he thought he heard music. And the farther he walked, the louder it echoed up the staircase until he definitely heard music. By the time he’d almost reached the bottom, he recognized it as ‘Hound Dog’ by Elvis Presley.
‘Ben. Elvis…’
No.
‘But Elvis. What if—’
No way. Ben couldn’t even fathom trying to put those two completely different worlds together in the same thought, and he didn’t want to listen to Ian go there right now, either.
He finally stepped down onto the pristine floors beneath the brilliant white light of Richard Monday’s basement lab rimmed with that blue glow. The music took on a disorienting echo down here between the cold sterility of the steel walls. Richard, Anita Librarian, and Rufus stood at this side of the squared-off tables around that stupid fax machine tower in the middle, their backs turned to Ben and the others. Clearly, these three were studying something in front of them on the table, and Anita swayed to the beat of Elvis’ bestselling hit.
Ben froze, and April stopped beside him. Peter stood on Ben’s other side, staring around at the lab that gave them all the creeps. “Ben,” he whispered. Slowly, Ben turned his head to look at the guy. “What if the Sectarian Circle took Elvis? You know, with the…” Whatever Peter was doing with his hand gestures was completely unreadable—to anyone who didn’t know the society was taking demons out of people and sticking them right back into someone else.
‘See?’ Ian added. ‘Best theory I’ve ever heard.’
Staring at Peter, Ben couldn’t believe the same thing—that same particular thought—was going through both his friends’ minds right now, of all things. Peter had an excuse; he had no clue what Ben had just seen and barely escaped outside this house. Ian, though…
‘I don’t need an excuse.’
Then the song ended with the reverberating echo of that last sharp note, and there was complete silence. Chase coughed from the other side of Peter, and it sounded a lot like one of those forced coughs meant to get somebody’s attention. But that didn’t quite make sense, unless Chase thought that the only contribution he could make tonight was just to announce their presence in the most obnoxious way possible. At least that part felt right.
All three of the Sectarian Circle members turned around to face them. Anita wore a calm, gentle smile, like she’d just woken up on a warm beach somewhere. Rufus grinned, shorter than both of his associates, and the incredibly tall and rail-thin Richard Monday, once again, delivered absolutely no expression at all.
“You’re here,” Richard declared.
Yes, Ben had just been hoping for one more person in his life to state nothing but the aggravat
ingly obvious.
The next song on whatever record or playlist they had going for this little party down here started, and Rufus turned halfway toward the table to press something. The opening to the song cut out abruptly. “And we’re very glad you are,” he added.
Ben could only stare at them, feeling like he’d interrupted some kind of celebration, though he’d clearly been invited. He didn’t know what to say.
Anita’s small smile faded into a frown. “Are you all right? You’re looking a little shell-shocked.”
That was putting it lightly.
“What happened?” Richard demanded in his flat, emotionless voice.
Ben wanted to launch into the story of how he might have just died in some other place that wasn’t like the spirit realm he knew—that some dude without a face had fought off those clawed, shadowy hands in the way Ben should have been able to. That Ian had pretty much been forced into nothingness until time started again and they stepped through Richard Monday’s front door. And he wanted to demand answers about what exactly had just happened to him. But now that he was here, Ben was ready to play the game.
“I told you a lot of things when I was here last time,” he said, answering Richard’s question but staring at Rufus, because so far that man was still the person Ben could stand the most out of the three of them. “Probably too much. For free.” A tight, cynical grin broke out on Ben’s own face. “This time’s a little different, isn’t it? So, when you tell me what I want to know, I might just tell you what I went through right outside this house.”
Rufus’ grin took on a surprisingly feral quality at that, Anita pursed her lips, and Richard’s mouth twitched in what had to be his attempt at a smile. Whether the man was pleased or pissed off by Ben’s response, he didn’t really care.
“Would you care to sit?” Richard Monday asked, extending an arm toward the round table beside him—where Ben and his friends had eaten their first meal as all but official captives in this basement.
“Not even a little,” Ben replied flatly. None of them seemed surprised by his caustic tone, though he figured it might have put April and Peter a little on edge. Chase was probably just really enjoying the whole thing.
“Then I presume you’ve requested this meeting of ours for a very specific reason,” Richard said. “Have you made your decision?”
“You mean about joining the Sectarian Circle without being told what it is or what you guys are actually doing?” Ben glared at them. “That decision? No, I haven’t made it yet. I need you to agree to something first.”
The less intensely vapid expression that might have passed for Richard Monday’s amusement turned upside down into a real scowl. At least that was recognizable. “Was your lesson with Rufus insufficient?”
“In so many ways,” Ben said. Rufus winced, looking a little hurt by that. Didn’t matter. “But I know that you and the Sectarian Circle have a lot of answers. That I need. And my questions just keep piling up, so I realize that agreeing to join you is pretty much the best of all my really bad options.”
“Are you saying you agree?” Richard almost growled out the question, and Ben loved the way it felt to make the guy sit on the edge of his own seat for a few seconds.
“On one condition.” They didn’t plan it this way—they didn’t even talk about it at all—but April and Peter both stepped up just a little bit farther until they stood directly in line with Ben. He had no idea if Chase had done the same, but Chase was just part of the process. Ben had his actual friends beside him now. “I’ll do this with you, but I’m not doing it alone. They’re coming with me.” He tilted his head toward Peter; it was either that or cross his arms and point at Peter, April, and Chase, which wouldn’t have done anything to help the image he was going for right now.
Richard’s eyes flashed toward something on the other side of Peter, which had to be Chase. “All of them?” the man asked, and his nostrils flared.
“Yep.” That was their deal, and Chase had been in on it too. So, yes. All of them.
After a long sigh, Richard spun on his heels and stomped toward the back of the lab again, where he picked up his pacing like he’d never stopped after Ben and his friends left the man’s house Saturday night. Rufus and Anita exchanged a glance, then Rufus focused on Ben one more time, and they all just stood there.
“Completely useless,” Richard muttered, pivoting to head to the other side of the lab again. “No, no. There’s nothing.” The man hissed out the words, shaking his head, and Ben wondered if that was what he looked like when he was arguing with Ian.
‘I mean, you don’t pace…’
“That wasn’t the offer,” Richard shouted again. He spun around one more time to pace the lab, shaking his head furiously.
Rufus blinked. “Richard?” he called.
“Always something…” Richard clearly wasn’t talking to anyone else physically in the room.
“Richard.” Rufus said it like a warning now, raising his voice without breaking Ben’s gaze.
“Just deal with it!” Richard Monday shouted, flinging a hand toward Ben and his friends and never once looking up from the ground.
Finally, Rufus offered Ben a nod that felt oddly like a formal bow. “Okay, Ben. We accept your condition.” The man turned briefly back to the table behind him and Anita, where he pressed some other button Ben couldn’t see. A loud click rang out through the lab, then Rufus faced them again to address Ben. “There’s no going back after this, you understand?” Ben just raised his eyebrows, which would have to be good enough for everyone. “Do you, Benjamin Robinson, agree to enter the Sectarian Circle as one of its members sworn to protect the secrets it holds, in this world and every other?”
Yeah, that sounded like an oath, if he’d ever heard one. “Now I do. Yeah,” he said.
“Peter Cameron?” Rufus asked.
Ben looked at Peter, who was clenching his jaw so tightly, his temples were growing red in the harsh white light. “Looks like I’m saying yes, too,” Peter replied, then he pulled out his inhaler and took a puff.
“April Balcolm?”
“Absolutely.”
“Chase Bernadine?”
Chase hissed out a sigh. “Yeah, why not?”
“Excellent,” Rufus said, and he let out a low, rumbling laugh.
Anita turned away from Rufus and went to one of the other tables forming that odd, squared setup. She bent beneath it, opened some kind of case, and stood again with something clenched inside her fist. When she approached Rufus again, the man held out his hand, and Anita dropped something into his palm. He quickly closed his fingers, then Anita walked toward the back of the lab where Richard Monday paced. She gave him one of whatever she’d taken out of that case, and this seemed to break the tall man out of his aggravation. He looked down at his hand, met Anita’s gaze, then they both walked back around the square of inward-facing tables to stand on either side of Rufus again.
“So now you’re going to answer my questions, right?” Ben asked, unable to help feeling like he’d missed some very important part of this whole exchange.
“Not quite yet,” Rufus said and pressed his lips together, like he regretted having to say it.
Ben clenched his fists. “That was our deal.”
“It definitely was,” the man replied, “and we’ll answer every single one of your questions, Ben. Just let us welcome you, officially, to the Sectarian Circle.” All three of the New England chapter heads stepped forward toward them until Anita stood in front of April, Richard stood in front of Peter, and Rufus was just about a foot away from Ben. “So put her there.” He extended his hand for Ben to shake. “And welcome.” Anita and Richard extended their hands toward April and Peter as well, and Ben imagined that if they had a fourth, that person would be doing the same with Chase.
Ben glanced down at Rufus’ calloused hand, then swallowed and took it. The man’s grip was incredibly strong. The nerves in Ben’s fingers flared under the crushing pressure, but Rufus wouldn
’t let go. The minute Ben’s friends took the other two Sectarian Circle members’ hands, Rufus wrenched Ben’s arm sideways, twisting it over before slapping his other palm down on the underside of Ben’s forearm.
A sharp, slicing pain bit into his arm, and when he shouted in surprise and because it really freakin’ hurt, he heard Peter and April do the same beside him. Rufus released his hand then and stepped back. Immediately, Ben grabbed his arm just above his wrist, trying to rub away the sting. Then he noticed the blue square on his forearm now, just below the skin. It blinked quickly three times, looking an awful lot like a computer chip the size of a nickel, then disappeared. Into his arm.
April sucked in a breath beside him, and he saw her bending over a little, holding her arm to her chest. Peter was gripping his so tightly, his free hand had already turned a dark red, and the guy froze there with wide, panicked eyes.
‘Okay, I didn’t see that coming.’
“What did you just do?” Ben growled, on the verge of launching himself at Rufus and pummeling the guy into the table behind him. It didn’t matter that he didn’t quite know what he was doing when it came to pummeling anyone, but he was a lot bigger than Rufus, and that had to count for something.
“Oh, come on!” Chase shouted, backing away against the far wall. Anita now moved toward him too, having chosen to take the last man standing.
“This was the agreement, Mr. Bernadine,” Richard said, his voice rising far louder than Ben had ever heard it. “Do not forget that you made it willingly.” Spit flew from the man’s mouth with how forcefully he annunciated that last statement.
Chase looked up at Richard, swallowed, then glanced down at Anita standing in front of him. “Welcome, Chase,” she said, her cynicism undeniably apparent. She extended her hand toward him as well, and he relented. The minute he grabbed her hand, Anita flipped his arm over and slapped it—not like Rufus had brought his hand down on Ben’s forearm but like the woman was trying to kill a fly that had landed on Chase’s arm. Her arm immediately swung back up in the air, and she eyed Chase’s grimace for a few seconds longer. Then she left him and returned to the table beside Rufus.
