The Guardians Complete Series 1 Box Set: Contains Mercy, The Ferryman, Crossroads, Witchfinder, Infernum

by Wendy Saunders

  ‘He’s been very patient then’ James frowned, ‘because it’s been years and he hasn’t so much as nodded in my direction.’

  ‘Trust me’ Olivia answered solemnly, ‘he hasn’t lost interest in you in the slightest. He’s waiting.’

  ‘There’s too many things about this whole situation that just aren’t right,’ Theo scratched the stubble along his jaw and frowned.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I don’t remember any of this,’ he replied.

  ‘I don’t understand’ James answered in confusion, ‘of course you wouldn’t remember, you weren’t here.’

  ‘Yes I was’ he reminded him. ‘The younger, past version of me was, and I spent a great deal of time in Salem Town with Stephen and Logan the first time around. I was with my brother most of the time and I can tell you with a hundred percent certainty that you were never arrested. In fact, I do remember you helping out the watch as one of the volunteers.’

  ‘What does this mean then?’

  ‘It means’ Olivia’s heart sank, her eyes squeezing shut miserably, ‘that somewhere along the line we’ve fucked up and we’ve managed to change history.’

  Chapter 15.

  Nathaniel watched as the crimson liquid tumbled smoothly into the glass. Picking it up he swirled it once, and then again before he took a small sip allowing the full bodied flavor to dance across his tongue. Turning around slowly his gaze fell upon the tall slightly paunchy man standing in front of him, sweating nervously.

  ‘Reverend Parris’ Nathaniel replied coolly, ‘just what exactly is it you think I can do for you?’

  Samuel Parris shifted uncomfortably, his fingers tightening on the wide brimmed hat he held pressed against his chest.

  ‘I thought you might speak with Stoughton on my behalf,’ he answered nervously.

  ‘And why would I do that?’ Nathaniel smiled slowly.

  ‘Nathaniel please be reasonable,’ a bead of sweat rolled ponderously down his temple. ‘You were the only one who walked away with his reputation intact.’

  ‘I fail to see your point,’ he sipped his wine slowly savoring the taste, a delicious vintage made all the more sweeter by his guest’s obvious desperation.

  ‘Nathaniel,’ he drew in a shaky breath spreading his hands in supplication, ‘what more can I do? I’ve already made a public apology yet they’ve refused to pay me several times. If this continues my family will be ruined. I’ve heard that the governor himself has issued an invitation to Reverend Joseph Green, which can only mean that they are going to have me replaced. It is only a matter of time.’

  ‘And you expect me to intervene with the new governor on your behalf?’

  ‘If you could,’ Samuel breath heavily in relief. ‘I would very much appreciate it.’

  ‘Again,’ Nathaniel swirled the liquid in his glass, ‘why would I do that?’

  Samuel’s face dropped.

  ‘You and Governor Phipps had only one job,’ Nathaniel replied slowly, ‘and you couldn’t even do that properly. So now you will suffer the consequences. Phipps has already returned to England and I have it on very good authority that he is already dead.’

  ‘Dead?’ Samuel swallowed hard as the color drained from his face.

  ‘That’s right,’ Nathaniel smiled unpleasantly. ‘There are whispers that it is God’s retribution for the part he played in the death of so many innocents.’

  ‘But if that is true we are all damned,’ Samuel whispered.

  ‘Not all, not I’

  ‘But you…you…’

  ‘I did nothing,’ he answered innocently. ‘My name and signature appeared on no arrest warrants. I did not sit as one of the judges in the court of Oyer and Terminer, nor did I accuse any of the prisoners.’

  Samuel’s face fell further as he realized Nathaniel was right.

  ‘Nathaniel please,’ he begged, ‘my family…’

  ‘Will suffer not only for your sins, but those of your daughter and niece also,’ he replied dismissively, placing his glass down on the table. ‘Now if that is all, the hour is late.’

  Samuel swallowed hard, having no choice but to follow Nathaniel who was already moving towards the door. Stepping out into the cool night air he turned and opened his mouth in a last attempt to reason with him.

  ‘Good evening Reverend Parris,’ Nathaniel cut him off before he could utter another word.

  Mustering what little pride he had left Samuel’s spine stiffened, his lips tightening into a thin angry line as he replaced his hat on his head and gave a curt nod.

  ‘Good evening Nathaniel’ he murmured tightly, before stepping down from the doorway and disappearing into the darkness.

  Nathaniel stood for a moment in the darkness shrouded by the light spilling from his open doorway. He breathed deeply, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. He’d enjoyed that. The sheer desperation of the man, he’d reeked of it. He had no illusion that the man had not thought of his family at all. Samuel Parris was such an easy man to read, he’d been motivated to come to Nathaniel’s door for one reason and one alone, self-preservation. He’d been quick enough to shift the blame after the trials as had the former Governor, William Phipps. It was amusing the way the humans schemed and plotted against one another. So quick to cause death and pain to their fellow man, or woman in this case. The witch trials had been an interesting diversion he had to admit. He’d hoped it would last a little longer as they had not quite produced the result he’d desired. He still had not managed to locate the Wests. He knew they were somewhere close, but so far they’d managed to remain hidden from him. He had hoped when he’d first set the wheels in motion that the witch hunt would drive them out into the open but unfortunately it had simply produced the opposite effect. It had driven them deeper into hiding.

  Still, he mused stroking his chin thoughtfully, he was close he could feel it. Perhaps it was time to pay another visit to Mr Wilkins. The man knew something. Whether or not it pertained to the West women he had no idea but he was involved somehow. He needed to figure it out. How had the man become involved with time travelers and who was the woman who was able to conjure Hell fire? That was something no human had ever been able to do and more than that, how had a human woman ended up with his brothers’ compass when his brother Seth was still Hades’ prisoner deep in the belly of the Underworld.

  Stepping back into the house and closing the door behind him with a firm click he headed back into the study. Reaching up to the heavy wooden bookcase he retrieved a thick rectangular object. He walked slowly to the heavy antique desk which he’d had brought over from England and laid the item out, unwrapping the dark velvet covering. The dark leather-bound volume stared back at him, taunting him. He ran his hand over the face of it, his fingers dancing a breath above the binding itself. Even now he could feel the magic pushing him away. He’d learned the hard way when the book had first come into his possession that it did not want him to learn its secrets. The witches’ book was guarded by heavy and potent magic, sealed with blood. He’d tried everything he could think of and still it would not submit to him.

  Nathaniel sat down in a tall backed leather chair, winding his fingers together as he gazed at the Grimoire pensively. The book may have been in James Wilkins’ possession but it did not belong to him, of that he was absolutely certain. Wilkins may have some lingering magical talent, third generation if he had to guess but he was certainly not a powerful witch. No, the book belonged to someone else. The woman he’d seen that night at the Beckett place? It was entirely plausible, he’d sensed an incredible amount of untapped power within her, not to mention her ability with the ancient fire.

  But how was James Wilkins and Theodore Beckett connected to her? After some digging he’d been able to find out that Wilkins had introduced her to Samuel Parris as his niece, Livy Oldham. However, a quick trip to Boston where James’ sister was living with her husband had proven her identity to be a lie. James’ sister had
no daughter only a son, who had been only fourteen years old at the time. Now ten years later he was no closer to discovering her true identity.

  He’d kept an extremely close eye on Theodore Beckett after that night, but it quickly became obvious the man knew nothing of magic nor the girl. No, the Theodore Beckett he’d seen the night of the storm was an older version of him, which meant he had yet to meet her. He thought that by gaining control of his brother and by extension Theodore himself, by involving them in the witch trials, he might’ve gained some measure of control over them. But controlling Theodore Beckett had been a lot harder than he’d thought. He did not seem to be as weak minded, nor as easily manipulated as the others had been. He’d only had a tenuous hold on him which at best had proved to be as elusive as trying to hold smoke in his bare hands. He’d broken away, distanced himself even from his brother and Nathaniel had lost his only leverage. He’d stepped back and allowed him to return to his farm, but he’d still kept a close eye on him.

  His brother however had been an entirely different matter. He’d been so angry, so bitter. Manipulating Logan Beckett had been like plucking ripe fruit from a tree and so far the man had proved to be extremely loyal not to mention resourceful. It was he who had brought him the book. Although he still wasn’t sure how Justin Gilbert had found out James was being held at his house. He’d had no choice after that but to release the man and keep his distance, he was far too valuable to risk. Wilkins had answers, answers he needed. He’d kept his distance but the time was coming that he would have to make his move. If he could not make the book submit to him he had to find out why.

  A sudden knocking at the door had him rising and wrapping the book once again. Carefully placing it back onto the highest shelf away from prying eyes he headed out of the study and back to the door. This time when he opened it he was greeted by the bright eager gaze of Stephen Holborne. A lowly man born the son of a peddler, Stephen was a greedy and ambitious man with no conscience and even less scruples. He didn’t care what Nathaniel asked him to do as long as he was well paid for it.

  ‘Stephen,’ he greeted him quietly.

  ‘Nathaniel’ he nodded, ‘I have some information for you.’

  Nathaniel gazed out into the darkness behind him, as if to make sure he was alone before stepping back and indicating for the stocky man to enter his home. Shutting the door with a soft click Nathaniel led the way back into the main sitting room. Moving towards the fireplace he stoked the dying embers to reignite them and added another log to the muted flames.

  ‘Well?’ he turned to the other man, ‘you said you had information.’

  He ran his eyes over the man before him. Stephen was not very tall, stocky in build but with powerful looking arms which gave his body an odd sort of mismatched appearance. His hair was a dull golden orange and his eyes were a weak watery color as they locked on Nathaniel.

  ‘I thought you might like to know, Theodore Beckett visited James Wilkins this afternoon and he had with him a woman, pretty thing with dark hair.’

  Nathaniel's eyes widened in interest. ‘Did you manage to find out who she is?’

  ‘I got close enough to hear him call her Olivia.’

  ‘Is that all?’ he pursed his lips, his eyes narrowing in displeasure.

  ‘Not quite’ Stephen continued, ‘you see I’d also been keeping an eye on the Beckett place, which is where I first saw them. I followed them both to the Wilkins place.’

  ‘So,’ Nathaniel shrugged.

  ‘Here’s the thing,’ Stephen warmed to his tale, ‘I saw Beckett walk into his barn and not a moment later I saw him on the opposite side of the farm with the woman.’

  Nathaniel watched Stephen carefully.

  ‘There is no way he could be in two places at once. I couldn’t figure it out, until I saw them both at the same time. There’s two of them.’

  Still Nathaniel remained silent.

  ‘That’s devil magic’ he concluded, ‘then I ask myself why you would set me the task of watching both properties and it occurs to me that you might’ve known something about this.’

  His pale calculating gaze locked on Nathaniel’s dark beetle like eyes.

  ‘Information like that would be worth a lot…to the right people.’

  ‘I see,’ Nathaniel replied calmly as he moved towards an ornate cabinet which held a bottle of wine and glasses.

  ‘Figured you would want to be the first to make me an offer.’

  ‘You thought right,’ Nathaniel pulled the stopper and poured the dark liquid into the glass. Picking it up and slowly walking across the room he handed the glass to Stephen, who took it with some surprise as he’d never been offered a drink in Nathaniel’s house before, certainly not as an equal. A smirk appeared on his face and he gripped the glass as Nathaniel circled him slowly.

  ‘Tell me something,’ Nathaniel asked softly, ‘does anyone else know you’re here?’

  ‘No,’ Stephen raised the glass to his lips, ‘I came straight from the Wilkins place.’

  ‘That’s what I thought’ he smiled, reaching out.

  Stephen’s head snapped to the side with a sickening crunch and his body dropped to the floor in a heap. The glass shattered across the hard wooden floor and the crimson colored wine pooled around his lifeless hand.

  Nathaniel stepped callously over the corpse littering his floor and poured himself a drink. Taking a thoughtful sip he stared into the fire. Until he figured out what was going on he would need an ally. He glanced back at the dead man in disgust. Someone he could trust. Someone like Zachary.

  The younger demon had proved his worth and his loyalty dozens of times over the centuries. He didn’t like to pull him from his assignment in Hades’ domain but then again there was no one he trusted more, other than his brother and as he was currently Hades’ permanent guest Zachary was the next best choice. Of course he’d need a disguise, something which would allow him to circulate amongst the people. After all they were still a little skittish around strangers. Stupid humans, he scoffed. However, he took another sip of his wine… his run in with Stephen had provided a solution.

  Grabbing the dead man’s boot he pulled him unceremoniously through the house, dragging him effortlessly by one limp lifeless foot as if the stocky dead weight was nothing. He entered his study and dropped the body to the ground at the side of the room. Draining his glass in one he set it down on his desk and leaned down towards the floor. Grasping the corner of the carpet he pulled it back revealing a huge blackened pentagram burned into the bare floor. Scrawled across it, in and around the pentagram itself, were intricate spidery looking sigils.

  He moved towards a small chest in the corner of the room and pulled a small bronze key from his pocket. The lock turned with a well-oiled click and lifting the lid he began to pull out various items, bundles of dried herbs and a bag of foul smelling soil which carried with it the unpleasant stench of decomposition. He pulled out several thick stumpy black candles inscribed with more sigils, followed by what appeared to be a feline skull and a cruel curved birdlike claw.

  The ticking of the clock echoed behind him as he took his time arranging the items on or around the pentagram, muttering in a strange guttural language as he went. Once he’d arranged everything to his satisfaction he lit the black candles which were spaced at intervals between the points of the star shape. They began to give off an oily grey smoke which soon filled the air with an unpleasant smog, punctuated only by the sooty orange glow of the candle flames.

  He began to chant again, an ancient complex language which rose and fell in cadence. The ground began to throb and bubble as if the wood itself had become liquid. It stretched and heaved as a shape resembling an arm pressed upwards. Suddenly the strange fluid floor split like a membrane. One arm clawed its way out, followed by another, then a head and torso. Nathaniel stepped back watching in satisfaction as the figure clawed its way out. When its body was finally free the ground once again hardened. The creat
ure unfolded itself, standing slowly. Completely naked, its flesh appeared raw and painful looking as if his entire body had been flayed and burned. His black beetle like eyes scanned the room until they fell upon Nathaniel.

  ‘Zachary.’

  ‘Nathaniel,’ his voice was a growl which sounded wet somehow, ‘why have you summoned me?’

  ‘I need you to do something for me.’

  ‘I was already doing something for you, unless you no longer consider the release of your brother a priority.’

  ‘You are well aware that nothing is more important than Seth.’

  ‘Then why am I here?’ he growled again.

  ‘Because I require your assistance and other than my brother there is no one I trust more than you.’

  Zachary stared at him before closing his eyes and inhaling deeply, pulling in the surrounding air and tasting it.

  ‘The human world’ he sneered, ‘never changes. I can still taste the fear and corruption.’

  ‘You should fit right in then,’ Nathaniel gave a sardonic smile.

  ‘I haven’t been topside since…’

  ‘Constantinople’ Nathaniel finished for him.

  ‘Yes, the fall of Constantinople’ he smiled in remembrance, a truly frightening expression on his damaged face. ‘I did so enjoy the Ottomans, they were so…creative.’

  ‘I seem to recall you getting quite creative yourself, when you were chasing down the fleeing Greeks.’

  ‘Good times.’

  ‘Indeed.’