Psychological Damage (Gray Spear Society)

by Siegel, Alex

  "You should be nicer to me."

  "Why?"

  "Because I'll decide whether you live or die," Wesley said calmly.

  Licavoli snorted. "First I get kidnapped by a hot broad, and now I have to listen to death threats from a snotty little kid."

  "Are you religious?"

  "I'm Catholic, of course."

  "Oh." Wesley said. "I heard Catholics like to confess to God."

  "I never confess."

  "Then you're not a good Catholic."

  Licavoli appeared confused. "I go to Church. I hear the sermons. I give money to the sisters."

  "That stuff is easy. You're supposed to feel something, too."

  "Are you giving me religious advice?" Licavoli drew back. "This is nuts."

  "Maybe you should confess now. Tell me your sins."

  "Confess to you? Here?"

  Wesley shrugged. "God will hear you."

  "What do you know about sin?"

  "I can smell it all over you."

  Wesley's blue eyes gazed at Licavoli without wavering. The old mobster furrowed his brow and remained silent.

  "Do you hate God?" Wesley said.

  "No."

  "But you ruin His world and hurt His people by committing crimes. Did you think He wouldn't notice? It doesn't matter if all the witnesses are dead. He knows the truth. In a few minutes you'll stand before Him. Are you ready?"

  Licavoli swallowed.

  "Are you?" Wesley repeated.

  Licavoli looked around as if searching for a way to escape. Obvious fear had replaced his arrogance. Marina marveled at Wesley's ability to shred the psychological defenses of any adult he faced. It was a powerful and subtle gift.

  "I told you I never confess," Licavoli said firmly.

  "Then you must be ready for final judgment," Wesley said. "How would you like to die?"

  Marina wondered what game he was playing. She still needed Licavoli alive to answer her questions.

  "Truth is a strange thing," Wesley said. "People like you pretend it doesn't exist, but it's always there. Face the truth for once. Ask yourself the hard questions. Are you happy? Did you do anything important during your life? Will anybody cry at your funeral? Why should God love you?"

  The boy and the man looked into each other's eyes for a long moment. Licavoli's body began to shake.

  Abruptly, he faced the sky. The morning sun was bright on his pale, wrinkled face. A tear ran down his cheek.

  He called out, "Forgive me Father for I have sinned. It has been... a lifetime since my last confession. I have murdered. I have committed adultery. I have stolen. I have lied. I have broken every one of Your commandments."

  He sobbed openly with an anguished expression. He dropped to his hands and knees on the pavement. Clearly, he was experiencing spiritual torment even worse than the physical pain James Licavoli had suffered. Marina actually felt sorry for poor, old Salvatore.

  "I'll change," he cried.

  "Too late," Wesley replied in a cold voice. There was no sympathy on the boy's beautiful face.

  Marina wondered if he understood his own frightening power.

  "But there is one small thing you can do," Wesley added. "Marina has a question for you." He stepped away.

  Her backpack was in the front seat of the car. She dug in the backpack until she found the file that Sergeant Liscombe had given her. Then she walked over to the Licavoli, but he couldn't even raise his head to look at her.

  "Seventeen years ago my parents were killed." She gave him the file. "Nikolai and Anna Pavlova. They owned an appliance repair store. According to the only witness, you ordered the hit because they were snitches. Is that the truth?"

  He examined the police report. Tears dripped on the pages as he flipped through them.

  "I didn't do it," he said.

  "You're sure?"

  He nodded. "I remember the murders. I never forget a crime."

  "Read the eyewitness account."

  He squinted at the handwriting for a minute. "This is bullshit. I had a guy who matched this description, but he just ran numbers for me. He never made his bones. And nobody ever whacked a snitch this way. When I called the shots they just disappeared. No bodies. No witnesses. An amateur pulled this job."

  She looked at Wesley.

  He nodded. "He's telling the truth."

  She frowned.

  "This is why I'm here?" Licavoli shook the folder in his hand. "I answered these questions seventeen years ago, and I told the truth back then. I have no fucking idea who killed your parents. Go talk to this witness. His story stinks like an old man's fart. You shot my bodyguards because of this? You tortured my nephew? You killed his soldiers? Those men had wives and children. What kind of psycho bitch are you?"

  Marina didn't have an easy answer for him.

  "Marina," Wesley said, "what did you do?"

  She looked at him, and their eyes met. Suddenly, she understood. Anger had driven her to commit crimes as offensive as the murder of her own parents. I'm as bad as Licavoli, she realized.

  Stunned by this unwelcome insight, she stepped back. Wesley's gaze followed her like small, blue lasers. He burned away her mental armor, leaving her completely exposed to white hot truth.

  "Leave me alone!" she cried.

  She ran behind the car and crouched so Wesley couldn't see her. She was shaking so much she had to sit down. She felt nauseous.

  Aaron ran over and pulled her into his muscular arms.

  "Are you OK?" he asked urgently.

  "No." She was trying hard not to throw up. The world seemed to spin around her.

  "Do you want to talk about it?"

  She looked at his handsome, unshaven face. "Just hold me."

  He lifted her and held her tightly so she couldn't fall over. His warm, physical presence was very comforting. She was an evil monster, but at least one man still loved her. She didn't have to face her terrible shame alone.

  Wesley turned to Yvonne. "Your turn."

  "For what?" she said.

  "You're the Lord's Executioner. Do your job."

  She looked at Licavoli with a horrified expression. "No! Aaron can kill him." She stepped back.

  "This is why God gave you your gift," Wesley said.

  "Wait!" Aaron released Marina. "I'll do it!" He ran over to stand between Wesley and Yvonne. "It's no problem. We've had enough drama for today."

  Wesley and Aaron stared at each other. The contest looked ridiculous because of their huge difference in size, but Aaron blinked first.

  "This is Yvonne's sacred duty," Wesley said without emotion.

  "You already turned two people into emotional wrecks this morning," Aaron answered. "Isn't that enough?"

  "Do you want Yvonne to be healthy?"

  "Yes, of course."

  Wesley leaned forward. "Then go away."

  The staring contest continued for another moment, until Aaron abruptly turned. Glowering, he walked over to Marina and held her hand.

  "That kid...," he muttered.

  "I know." She shuddered. "Can we ditch him?"

  "Unfortunately, no."

  Yvonne remained frozen in place.

  Marina realized it was her responsibility to help Yvonne get moving. However, Marina kept seeing the dead bodies of the men she had killed so carelessly during the night. She had vivid memories of James Licavoli's face after she had torn it apart. The sound of Mr. C's knee being smashed echoed in her mind. Wesley had pushed her into a sucking vortex of guilt. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so ashamed.

  Nonetheless, Yvonne needed her. Marina gathered as much composure as she could manage and walked across the sunny parking lot. She made a point of ignoring Wesley.

  Yvonne was pale. Marina put a hand on her shoulder, and her muscles were as stiff as wood.

  "When I joined the Spears," Marina said in a gentle voice, "you were already a legend. The mighty Yvonne, destroyer of evil. Do you remember?"

  Yvonne looked at her. "Sort of
."

  "I wanted to be just like you. You were full of energy and confidence all the time. First in and last out of every battle."

  "First in and last out...," Yvonne echoed.

  "I tried so hard to rise to your level," Marina said, "but I was never strong or fast enough. I couldn't stay focused. But you mentored me despite my obvious limitations. I remember the wonderful stories you told. More than even Ethel, you taught me how to be a proper Spear. I'll always be thankful for that."

  Yvonne smiled.

  Marina moved a little closer. "Do you want to know why God trusted you with such a powerful gift? He knew you'd have the wisdom to always use it responsibility. You'll never lose control like I did. Even when you were horribly tortured, you didn't break. You won that fight just like you win every fight."

  Yvonne started to relax.

  "But this time the enemy is inside you," Marina said. "Its name is fear, and I know you can beat it. Use your gift. Let's see the Yvonne I admired so much."

  Yvonne nodded. She stiffly walked over to the elder Licavoli and looked down at him. He barely acknowledged her.

  Wesley came to Marina and whispered, "That was wonderful."

  "Thanks," she said.

  "You're not a psycho bitch. You're just very confused." He smiled at her. "I'll help you get better."

  She sniffed. With great difficulty she avoided crying.

  Yvonne put her hand on Licavoli's neck. Suddenly, his entire body stiffened and contorted as all his muscles tightened at once. He let out a cry of agony that sounded more like a dying animal than a man. His bit through his own lip and blood ran down his chin.

  Marina winced.

  "Do you feel that burning sensation?" Yvonne said. "Those are the fires of Hell. Go to your eternal damnation now."

  Licavoli began to shrivel like a giant prune, and he folded in on himself. There was a grinding noise as his bones crumbled and his body turned into a shapeless bag of skin. Apparently, Yvonne was very hungry.

  The nutrients that came out of him went straight into her. Her muscles thickened as if she had spent months lifting weights. Her freckles faded away, and her skin became pink and flawless. Her hair grew several inches in seconds. The odd bend in her nose straightened out.

  This was the Yvonne that Marina remembered: great strength packed tightly onto a small frame. She was beautiful, powerful, and intimidating.

  Then came the odor that Marina had always dreaded. Yvonne had reversed the flow through her roots and was using Licavoli's skin as a garbage bag. A substance that looked like burnt stew and smelled like rotten fish leaked out of his gaping, misshapen mouth. Marina walked quickly in the opposite direction. She didn't need to see this part of the process.

  Aaron caught up with her. "That was disgusting!"

  "Yvonne doesn't just kill her enemies. She defiles them."

  "And it looks like she got stronger."

  "Supernaturally strong," Marina said. "The more she eats, the beefier she gets, but the effect doesn't last. In a day or two she'll be almost back to normal. To stay in fighting form, she needs regular meals like this one."

  "Ugh. I have to see this again?"

  "Yeah. Get used to it."

  He made a sour face. "You seem a little calmer now."

  "Less suicidal at least."

  Yvonne roared like a bear, making a noise so loud it startled Marina. Yvonne leaned her head back and roared again. It was a sound of pure exhilaration.

  "Maybe Wesley knows his stuff," Aaron said.

  "It's possible." A wave of tiredness hit Marina. "I need to sleep. I'm completely exhausted, physically and emotionally. Can you take me back to the motel before I fall down?"

  "Now you're finally making sense." He kissed her. "Let's get out of here."

  * * *

  Edward was stuffed into a wooden box. Space was so tight he could barely move a muscle. His arms tingled from the pressure and his knees were pressed against the side. There was no light and precious little fresh air. He had to breathe through a tube taped to his mouth.

  He wasn't alone in the box.

  Thousands of cockroaches kept him company. Their tiny bodies crawled over his skin and got caught in his hair. He had to keep his eyes closed because they were on his face. He couldn't do anything about it except scream until his breath ran out.

  * * *

  Aaron, Yvonne, and Wesley were visiting the famous City Museum in St Louis, which was unlike any museum Aaron had ever seen in his life. It was like climbing inside a modern art sculpture which was three stories tall. Different sections had different themes, and each had its own insane charm. A mad genius with too much time on his hands had built this place.

  Currently, they were in the "Enchanted Caves" area. It was a huge maze of dark, twisted passages, some so small only a child could squeeze through. The lighting mixed bright colors and stark shadows to create a nightmare effect. There were industrial chimneys that went all the way to the roof of the building and tunnels that burrowed into the earth. Paintings of creatures decorated the walls.

  Many children were running around while their frantic parents tried not to lose them. This was an almost impossible task, and Aaron saw desperation on the faces of the adults. There were too many fun hiding places for little people. The continuous, high pitched yelling was giving him a headache.

  Aaron watched Yvonne and Wesley as they played tag in the caves. Wesley was clever and fast, but Yvonne had boundless energy, giving her the advantage. She was still enjoying the benefits of her "meal" in the morning. Her muscles weren't as swollen, but she still looked like an athlete and her stamina was unbelievable. She ran around like an over-caffeinated gerbil. Aaron was exhausted from just watching her. Whenever Wesley needed to take a break, she just chased other kids for a while, sometimes to the dismay of their parents.

  Being around so many children forced Aaron to think about fatherhood. All members of the Gray Spear Society were forbidden to have offspring, so the idea was just a fantasy, but at his age it was a compelling one. He could almost hear his biological clock ticking away. He believed he would've made a good father, but most men believed that until they actually had kids.

  On the other hand, he was fairly certain Marina was poorly suited for motherhood. She had a nasty temper and no patience at all, not a good combination when dealing with small children. Of course she also became homicidal at times. That was a useful habit when battling evil cults but not so desirable in a parent.

  Her rampage last night was the latest example of this bad habit. The mobsters weren't enemies of God, so killing them was wrong, no matter what crimes they had committed. The Society's jurisdiction didn't extend to ordinary, human evil. Marina knew the rules, yet she had completely ignored them in her personal quest for vengeance. This wasn't acceptable.

  As leader of the team, Aaron had to impose some kind of punishment. He couldn't ignore the issue just because he loved her. However, he had no idea what penalty was appropriate and feasible. Marina was an essential part of the team, and he needed her help with protecting Wesley.

  Aaron couldn't call Ethel for advice, either, because the legate had forbidden any contact with headquarters. Besides, Ethel might kill Marina if she found out what had happened. This wasn't the first time that Marina had broken important rules, and Ethel had warned her very clearly that the next serious offense might be the last. Aaron couldn't take that risk with the most important person in his life. He would have to cover for her this time.

  He sighed. Being the leader sucks.

  It was two in the afternoon, which meant Marina had slept for seven hours. It was time to go back to the motel and wake her up, but first he needed a plan for how to deal with her.

  Wesley stopped to catch his breath. Yvonne fidgeted nearby, her legs in constant motion. It looked like she wanted to run a race.

  "Wesley!" Aaron called out. "Can you come over here? I need to talk to you."

  Wesley shuffled over and sat down. Beads of sweat d
otted his forehead. He was so tired he leaned against Aaron for support.

  "You don't have to keep playing," Aaron said. "You can sit for a while."

  "I'm having fun," Wesley said. "What do you want to talk about?"

  "Marina did some very bad things last night, but I don't know what to do about it. What's your advice?"

  Wesley's perfect, little face looked up at Aaron. "Don't do anything, yet."

  "She killed and tortured civilians."

  "We don't know why."

  Aaron raised his eyebrows. "We know exactly why. She wants to find out who murdered her parents."

  "No." Wesley shook his head. "I think she already knows who did it."

  "That doesn't make sense." Aaron stared at him. "Then what the hell was she doing last night?"

  "She won't face the truth and she can't sit still, so she fights instead."

  "I get it," Aaron said. "She uses physical danger to distract herself from her real problems. So, who killed her parents?"

  Wesley shrugged. "We'll find out soon, but we have to be careful. She'll get crazier."

  "Hmm."

  Aaron looked around for Yvonne, who had wandered off. He spotted her on a high balcony. She was playing patty cake with a little girl.

  "Is that why you're pumping up Yvonne?" Aaron said. "You might need extra protection from Marina?"

  "I just follow the path in front of me," Wesley said. "If Marina attacked me, would you protect me?"

  That was a tough question for Aaron. He had sparred with Marina many times, but a real fight with her was a very different beast. He hated the idea of hurting her, but anything less than total commitment to victory might mean his own death. She knew every dirty, cheap, nasty trick, and she didn't mind using them. She was also a top flight martial artist. Her knife skills were legendary, but her razor sharp, venomous fingernails were her most dangerous weapons of all.

  "To be honest, I don't know. Let's hope I never have to decide." Aaron stood up. "It's time to go wake up Marina. Thank you for your helpful advice."

  "You're welcome."

  Chapter Fifteen

  Aaron knocked on the door of the motel room. He had the key but he didn't know what booby traps Marina had set. It was far safer to let her open the door from the inside.