Revelations: The Black Chalice (Revelations Series Book 1)

by Lauretta Hignett

  Alex nodded. “Cambion.”

  “Is that what they’re called? I know that the half-angels are called Nephilim…”

  “That’s what Nate is.”

  “Oh, so he’s only half as well?”

  “Yes. I think it’s our human halves that make us good friends. That, and a few other things.”

  I looked at him curiously, but he didn’t elaborate. He just turned to me, smiled, and lifted a whippy little branch out of the way so I could pass unimpeded. He was so tall, and his reach so extended, that he got to the branch a good few moments before I approached it.

  “Are you going to explain to me why you’re friends with a half-angel?”

  He sighed and grimaced. “There’s a lot that you won’t understand. The reasons why we do what we do…” He trailed off for a moment. “You might not believe it. It’s a lot to process.”

  “I want to understand,” I said quietly.

  “You might not believe me,” he murmured, refusing to meet my eyes. “Not many people do.”

  “Well, I sure am curious.” I blushed and realized how hokey I sounded. I stopped walking on the path so I could concentrate. He paused too, and looked down at me. “I mean,” I tried again. “I don’t think that you’re evil. I can feel it.” Against my will, my hand raised up to touch his shoulder. I wasn’t surprised when the heat from his skin almost burned me.

  It wasn’t the heat that caused me to snatch my hand away. It was the shock of electricity that sparked between our touch. “Not completely, anyway.” I swallowed roughly. “I’ve seen evil. And it’s innately human.”

  I paused to see if he would disagree with me, but he was unmoving, staring hard at me.

  “On the other hand, I saw what you did to that judge. I watched you talk him into cheating on his wife.”

  Alex grimaced. “Bad PR,” he muttered.

  “Well, it looked bad.” I held his gaze. “And you were first on the scene when he died.”

  His beautiful mouth pulled up at the corner. “I can honestly say that I was only there to make sure he didn’t suffer too much.”

  I didn’t smile back. “He went to hell.” I didn’t phrase it as a question.

  Alex sighed. “Yes, he did.”

  “And that was your fault?”

  “No. Look, Eve, it’s a lot to explain…”

  “I’m listening,” I said firmly.

  The rising sun hit his face just then, peeking out from a gap between the trees. It was later than I thought. I reluctantly pulled my gaze away from his beautiful, rugged features, blinding in the dawn sunshine, and looked up ahead to the gate that led to the stables. “Actually, it might have to wait a few minutes. C’mon, I better hurry or they’ll have left.” I rushed ahead of him and pushed the gate open.

  The stables were full of frantic activity; grooms were busy prepping the eight horses tethered outside the stables, brushing and combing, checking the lengths of straps and rolling up packs and swags for the spares. Andrea strode among the grooms with purpose, barking orders and double-checking everything.

  There were four men there, butting into the activity, pulling on saddles and checking the horses, however, they were set apart from the actual work by their lazy arrogance and haughty attitudes. Of course, they were the billionaires that would be doing the Overlander. It was considered a secret rite of passage amongst elite businessmen; completing the Overlander would give them bragging rights for years to come.

  I gestured to Alex to wait for me, but he didn’t see me. He was staring at the four men.

  Okay, whatever. I ignored all the men and walked straight up to Horace, who was looking miserable.

  “Hey, buddy,” I cooed, holding out my hand. He gave a soft whicker of greeting, but he still seemed forlorn. “Oh, Horace.” I rubbed his ears. “You’ll be okay. It’s only for a few days, and you’ll be back home again. Where you belong.”

  He nuzzled into my neck, a little more forceful than usual.

  “Oh, don’t be scared. Look—I see Eduardo and Emanuelle are going with you,” I said, pointing at two little Peruvian grooms who were quickly and efficiently packing their own horses’ side packs. “You love those guys. They’ll look after you.”

  I could feel the solid presence of Andrea behind me. “Listen to her, Horace,” she stretched out a calloused hand and gave him a rub on the nose. “You’ll be fine.”

  “Hey,” I said to her. “He’s a bit skittish, isn’t he?”

  She nodded. “More so than normal. He’s done the Overlander before, although he’s never gone away for so long. He must have picked up on it. Come on.” She nodded at the grooms. “It’s time to go. The guests are ready.”

  I gave Horace one last kiss on his nose, and Andrea led him away to one of the billionaires. I knew who the man was; some weapons manufacturer. I hadn’t checked him in, and I’d had nothing to do with him, but he was easily recognized by his fiery red hair. He was quite short and squat, so he wouldn’t be much of a burden on Horace’s back.

  Nevertheless, I edged back to the gate where I left Alex, feeling a little apprehensive for Horace. Alex was still staring at the men, only now he had his mobile phone to his ear and was speaking with clenched teeth. “The stables. Get here now.”

  I glanced at him curiously; his face was set and his jaw tense.

  Alarm flooded through me. “What’s wrong? Is it Horace?”

  Alex looked down at me. “No, not Horace…” He trailed off, looking back up at the men.

  There was a gust of wind from my left, and suddenly, Nate was standing right beside me. “Gah!”

  “Sorry,” Nate said softly, touching my arm. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  “Where did you come from? What the hell is going on?”

  “You see them?” Alex whispered to Nate over my head.

  “I do. Did you know they were here? All together?”

  “No. I had no idea.”

  “I didn’t either. They’re obviously a lost cause for our side.”

  “In every single way.”

  I felt a huge lump in my stomach. The cold, deep claw of fear. “What are you guys talking about?”

  Alex finally looked down at me. “The four horsemen. It’s them.”

  “Um, yes,” I nodded patiently. “Those four guys are going out on the horses.”

  “No, Eve, the Horsemen. With a capital H.”

  “Okay, one of you better start making some sense at some point soon.”

  Nate put his cool hand on my shoulder again. “You know who these men are?”

  “I do. It’s part of my job to know every guest and greet them by name.” I paused awkwardly and looked at Alex, remembering how badly I messed up with greeting him the first time. I rushed on. “So that guy with the red hair is Jonas Elias, weapons manufacturer. The tall, dark-haired guy is Hiroki Miyajima; he controls a huge chunk of the world’s grain suppliers.” I pointed at the last two. “The pale-haired guy is Hans Whirter, who owns a multinational biosecurity firm, and that last guy”—I jabbed a finger at the most recognizable one—“well, that’s Lachlan Keyes. He owns most of the world’s media. Most influential person on the planet, apparently. That is, if you watch the news…”

  “It’s not just the news,” Nate said softly. “It’s everything that comes out of all media. Print, digital, viral campaigns. All advertising, opinion pieces… he can drive outrage one way, and ignore atrocities. He can topple democratic governments within a week.”

  “So…so…” I was confused. “So he’s a demon, then?”

  I looked back at Alex. He was still fixated on the tall, imposing figure of Lachlan Keyes, but I didn’t miss the flare of hurt in his eyes.

  “You haven’t told her yet?” Nate murmured.

  “Not yet.”

  “So he’s not a demon?”

  Alex finally met my eyes and frowned. “No, he’s not a demon. He’s far, far worse.” He gestured over to the men. They’d all mounted their horses and were wal
king them out of the back gate toward the grassy fields beyond the ridge. Lachlan Keyes was in the lead.

  Alex pointed. “Keyes is, for all intents and purposes, the most evil person on the planet,” he explained. “Forget foreign despots and crazy dictators; this guy has so much power that he thinks he’s God on earth.”

  I leaned my head to the side. “Really? I guess… he is pretty powerful…”

  “Eve, he’s well known in heaven and hell as being the most despicable and dangerous person on earth. He is the anti-God, in human form. And there, behind him.” Alex pointed. “Hans Whirter. Develops viruses. Plagues.” He stared down at me meaningfully. “Miyajima. Grain.”

  I got it. “Famine,” I said dully. “He’s famine. And Elias is war. They are the actual Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.”

  Nate nodded. “We’ve known about them for a long time; there have been whispers that each one might be the representation of the prophecy.” He shook his head slowly. “But they’ve never even been in the same room before.”

  “And now the four of them are on actual goddamn horses together, trekking straight up a ley-line.”

  “Israel,” I whispered under my breath. I could feel Alex’s eyes burning a hole in my head, so I looked up and met them. “They’re doing the Overlander to the Cape, then they’re on a business trip together. I heard Clover talking about it. They’re travelling up through a few different countries, finally ending up in Israel.”

  “Meddigo,” Alex breathed out. “Goddamnit. Why here? Why now? Why has the goddamn apocalypse started here?”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Alex dragged me back to his suite, with Nate leading the way. “We’ve got to get some answers,” he said in his low, rough voice. “And I know where to find them. We need some privacy.”

  “Guys, as weird as this all is, I don’t think you’re going to find your answers in your bedroom in the Banksia bungalow,” I muttered, trying to keep calm. “And I don’t know how I’m going to be able to help.”

  Alex’s grip on my hand was firm, but gentle. He pulled me along easily, and despite my protests, my heart was warmed that they wanted me there too. “You have to come,” he said. “You are a part of this somehow. I just have to figure out what part that is.”

  The warm feeling disappeared. “I don’t want to be a part of this,” I said sulkily.

  “None of us do, Eve. Believe me when I say that I don’t want to have to do what I do either.”

  “You still haven’t told me why you do the things that you do.”

  “I’ll get to that.”

  We reached the private pathway that led to the Banksia bungalow and rushed straight in. The room was gorgeous, like all the suites. We called them bungalows because the rich folk found the modest term endearing. There was the ground floor with a lounge, small dining area leading on to a paved outdoor area, and a small, private plunge pool and spa, encircled on all sides by lush, thick jungle. There was a tiny staircase that led up to a second level, all bedroom, swathed in cooling, crisp whites and blues, with a vast, plush bed draped with a puffy comforter. The bed itself was set on the far edge of the building, and three of the four walls were glass. It gave the impression of sleeping in the jungle canopy, only in perfect comfort.

  It was all breathtakingly stunning and cutting-edge stylish. Although, I wasn’t that impressed anymore. Luxury was nice, however, since I knew the pain and suffering that went into providing it, I wasn’t totally enthralled. And after witnessing several tantrums when a guest’s thread count was not what they expected, I knew for a fact that when it comes to comfort and luxury, it was easy to step up, but very, very hard to step down.

  Alex pulled me by the hand into the lounge area and pointed to the white sofa against the wall. “Sit here.”

  I sat obediently and watched while Alex picked up the heavy stone coffee table with one hand. His biceps flexed beneath his blue shirt, just slightly, as if the enormous weight of the table was mere ounces rather than hundreds of pounds. He gently placed it to one side of the room and shot off upstairs so fast I could barely perceive the movement. Nate moved in after him and quickly swept aside the circular rug that was underneath the table, leaving the slate flagstones bare.

  The men moved purposefully, in well-rehearsed actions. They’d clearly done this before. Alex reappeared with an industrial-sized salt shaker in his hand and deftly poured a stream of salt around the flagstones, making a perfect circle of white powder.

  Nate held up a stick of chalk. “Do you want me to do the contionem advocaverunt sigil?”

  “Nah.” With a grin, Alex took the stick off him. “You never get the twirls right. The Nuntius always know that it’s you.”

  Sitting on the couch in the corner, I finally found my voice. “What are Nuntius?”

  “Demonic messengers,” Alex replied, and he crouched down on the flagstones and swiftly drew an intricate design with the chalk. “They’re kinda like very old animals of the earth that demons bonded with, thousands of years ago. They have taken demonic energy into themselves, and identified with us so much that they’ve become our servants. I believe the first Nuntius were very early primates, but now they’re a separate demonic species.” He moved himself around the circle, broadening the sigil, making flourishes and cornices in a spectacular pattern. “You would know them as Imps,” he said. “Lots of the Nuntius spend their time on Earth, so they’ve been spotted by humans. They’re mischievous; they like to play pranks. Sometimes, they’re very helpful. But most of the time they just love to gossip.” He gave a rueful grin. “Which is why they make such good messengers. The ones that hang out in hell usually act like switchboard operators. This sigil will let a hellbound Nuntius know that I need to talk to an upper-level demon, and hopefully, he’ll go get her for me.” His face was grim. “I need to know for sure that the apocalypse has started. And if we can stop it.”

  I looked at the floor, where the chalk outline was starting to glow a soft red. “Her?”

  Alex didn’t hear my question. He was standing at the tip of the sigil, just outside the salt circle. His eyes were closed, his broad arms extended in front of him, palms up. He whispered softly, quick words in a fluid, mysterious tongue. The sigil turned a darker red, and the salt circle started to glow.

  Realizing that Nate was missing, I looked around and spotted him in the far end of the lounge, crouched into a corner as if he was trying to hide. He watched Alex and the circle avidly.

  I turned back to the circle. Alex continued to whisper the foreign words, but somehow, his voice grew louder, and resonated around the room with a rumble. The sigil grew redder and started to smoke.

  His words came out faster, deeper, his face creased with concentration. With finality, Alex uttered a liquid phrase, and I felt the floor beneath me tremble.

  He opened his eyes. They were glowing.

  The sigil burst into flame.

  Alex stepped back, keeping within the lines of the salt circle, and watched the fire intently.

  I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The chalk outline was spewing pure fire, six feet into the air. I quickly glanced toward the ceiling, irrationally worried that the men would get in trouble for scorching the million-dollar bungalow. But the paint on the ceiling was unmarked by the licks of flame.

  The fire itself was moving quickly, dancing around almost exuberantly. Alex watched it carefully until, suddenly, there was a tiny figure outlined in the flames. Gradually, it became more defined until I could see it perfectly.

  The imp was small, about twelve inches in length, and looked exactly like I expected an imp to look. He had a little simian face, scrunched features, and a skinny, lithe body covered with short brownish-reddish hair. His two little horns curled around toward the back of his head. He danced around in the flame, grinning.

  I was flabbergasted.

  “Aleksander!” The imp squeaked. It was so high-pitched that it hurt my ears. “You call! Rux is pleased.”

  “Hi, Rux.�
�� Alex gave him a wave. “Do you think you could get Nimue for me?”

  The little imp gave a little pout. “Bad Aleks,” he scolded. “You have no time for Rux?”

  Alex tried to smile. “Oh, sorry Rux, I do. But I’m kind of in a hurry.”

  The imp squeezed his eyes shut, looking devastated. “You always in hurry. Nimue always in hurry. Neither have time for Rux.”

  The flame dimmed, and Alex rolled his eyes. “Rux, I’m pleased to see you, but I really need to talk to Nimue now.”

  Rux threw his little head back, his horns brushing his back. He started to wail. The sound was like fingernails on a blackboard.

  Alex groaned. “Come on, Rux. I promise I’ll call you up later. We’ll hang out.”

  The imp’s mood flipped immediately, and he snapped his head back toward Alex with a grin. “Really? We hang?”

  “Yes, dude, we’ll hang.”

  “You take Rux for pizza?”

  “I’ll take you for pizza.”

  “Hawaiian?”

  Alex grimaced. His gesture made sense to me. Only the lowliest demons would enjoy pineapple on pizza. “Yes, Hawaiian. Now can you please get her for me?”

  The imp squealed with delight. The sound was worse than his wail, and I couldn’t stop myself from putting my fingers in my ears to block out the noise.

  But the imp must have sensed the movement, and his eyes shot toward me. “Who that, Aleks? Who you with?”

  “No one, Rux.”

  “You with someone.” Rux tried to peer out from the flames. “I can’t see. You have circle out. Why you have circle?”

  “To stop the tortured souls escaping, Rux, you know that.”

  The imp scoffed, nimbly leaping from flame to flame. “They escape, we bring them back. Easy. No need for circle. You hide something.”

  Alex sighed heavily. “I’m not hiding anything. I’m on holiday, and I don’t want to work. So I put up a circle.”