“You brought Robert here?”
“How do you know who I am?” Robert suddenly spoke up. He tried to squeeze by Sean, to get in front of him, but the Cloak held up a hand and he came to a stop.
“And a quiddity? You brought a quiddity here? Do you not feel that in your chest, Sean? Do you not know that there is something else going on?”
Sean, head bowed, answered.
“I had no choice. I have…I have learned something, something important, and I need to see the book.”
The Cloak scoffed.
“You need to do your job as a Guardian, Sean. You need to keep the Marrow safe. That is what you need to do. You don’t need to come here, to bring the dead here. I don’t care what kind of shit you’ve gotten yourself into.”
Sean’s head snapped up. The time for obsequious metaphors had passed.
“Carson isn’t dead. He’s alive. And Amy isn’t the girl that Leland needs, it’s Shelly’s unborn baby.”
This time it was the Cloak who stopped in his tracks.
***
Sean rubbed his sore shoulders, grimacing at the tension that had built up after being bound for what felt like hours. Then he put his hands on the table in front of him. All five of them were in the room, Cal, the Cloak, Robert, Sean, and Aiden, only Aiden was standing at the back of the room while the rest of them were seated at the table.
The Cloak had the Inter vivos out in front of him, the pages open to a passage that both he and Sean knew well.
“A Guardian, bound between worlds, will open the rift, but the Guardian won’t be able to hold it open. Only the quiddity of a child, of a powerful child born of two Guardians, will be able to hold it open and allow souls to flow backward into the world of the living.”
“Are you sure that’s what it says?” Sean asked, leaning forward.
The Cloak hesitated before answering.
“This is my translation. I don’t know if the Keeper had another one.”
“He did,” Robert answered, and surprised that he had spoken, Sean turned towards him. Robert, however, had his eyes locked on the book. “I know he did.”
“How come we didn’t realize this before?” the Cloak demanded.
Sean shrugged.
“I don’t know; maybe because he already had Amy, that’s the child we assumed he needed?” At the mention of his daughter’s name, a pained expression crossed over Robert’s face. Sean ignored it and continued, “But it makes sense, the power of two Guardians…has there ever been such a person? A child born of two Guardians?”
The cloak shifted back and forth; he was shaking his head.
“I still can’t believe that Shelly is a Guardian,” Robert whispered. Out of the corner of his eye, Sean saw Cal reach over and comfort him. It bothered him that Cal was tagging along; the man was a mess, driven by motives that for whatever reason Rob was blind to. He wasn’t a Guardian, he had no business being here.
His eyes flicked up to Aiden.
And he shouldn’t have been here at all.
“First things first,” the Cloak rasped. “Robert, is your brother still alive?”
Robert bowed his head before answering.
“I couldn’t kill him,” he whispered. “That would make me the same as him, and I’m not him. I’m not that.”
Sean’s eyes narrowed as he recalled Robert putting a bullet in Callahan’s head.
You are more like him than you think.
The thought was sudden, instinctive, and it startled Sean.
It also scared him, as the more he thought about it, the more it rang true. Then he came back to what the cloaked one had said long ago, that the world might be better without Guardians. That without Guardians, there could be no rifts. And without a powerful child, the Marrow would remain a one-way street forever.
“That’s okay, Robert. I understand. And Shelly, you’re sure she’s pregnant?”
Robert nodded.
Sean was having a hard time understanding the Cloak’s reaction to it all; he had expected outrage, a violent display, perhaps, but what he detected was something akin to compassion.
They didn’t have time for this.
“I think—” he began, but the Cloak held up a hand, stopping him mid-sentence.
“Why did you allow them to come together? You know how important it is to keep them apart, don’t you? How can you forget what happened with Leland?”
Before Sean could answer, to espouse his innocence, to remind the Cloak that he hadn’t known that Shelly was a Guardian, that he had somehow forgotten, something in his mind clicked.
Something about the orphanage, about him saving three children, instead of just two.
It was as if misty condensation had settled on his neurons back around the time when Leland had started gaining power, when Ruth Harlop and her family had hung around for far too long. But now that the fog had been lifted, he realized that Leland was somehow scrambling all of their thoughts, which would explain why Robert knew nothing about when Sean dropped him off at the church, or his time at the orphanage before that.
Sean swallowed hard, wondering what else Leland held power over.
“Leland…what happened to him? How did he die?” Robert shot a look over at Sean, and he knew that the man was recalling what he had admitted at Seaforth.
That he had killed Leland.
And it was true.
But Robert didn’t know the half of it, and if it were up to him, it would stay that way.
“Another time, Robert. But for now, we have one job to do. We have to find Shelly,” the Cloak interceded.
Robert made a face.
“Find her? She’s back at the Estate. She wasn’t…she wasn’t feeling well, from the pregnancy. What we need to do is to find Carson, and do what I should have done back at the prison. We need to take him out so that we can be free again.”
The Cloak didn’t answer for a long time. When he did, his voice was even more gruff than it had been moments ago.
“She’s not at the Estate anymore.”
“She’s not? She—”
“Look inside, Robert. You are a Guardian. Look deep, deep inside.”
Sean saw the man’s face contort, but to his surprise instead of answering back, Robert remained silent and shut his eyes.
A moment later, they popped open again.
“Sacred Heart Orphanage,” he said almost robotically. “She went to Sacred Heart Orphanage.”
Cal let out his breath in a whoosh.
“What? Where? Is she—is she okay?”
Robert nodded, but it was the Cloak who responded for him.
“She’s fine, for now. But I fear that she is on a collision course with Carson.”
Cal’s face went white and he shot to his feet.
“Well what the fuck are we waiting for? Let’s get the hell out of here!”
The Cloak also rose, and Sean noticed for the first time just how stooped he was. And short; the Cloak was only about five foot four, he realized.
“Yes, we must hurry.”
Sean was taken aback by this. For as long as he had known the Cloak, one of the original Guardians, he had never left the Trellis Tower.
“You’re coming?” he nearly gasped.
The Cloak nodded.
“I have no choice. The barrier is weakening, and I fear this is our last chance to stop the rift from opening.”
PART III - Sacred, Broken Hearts and Family Values
Chapter 31
Agent Brett Cherry brought the flask to his mouth and took a sip. It was sour, horrible stuff, but he forced it down anyway, wiping the small amount that rested on his lip with the back of his hand.
Then he tossed the silver flask onto the passenger seat and turned his eyes back to the road. He burped and squinted hard before stretching his eyebrows upward. His forehead was stiff and sore.
It was nearly dusk, but the sun was still too bright for Agent Cherry, given the bender he had been on lately. He hadn’t even wanted
to wake up this morning, and probably wouldn’t have, if Ed the Nose hadn’t called him. It had been so long since he had heard from his old friend that when he had said who it was, Agent Cherry hadn’t even believed him at first.
To Brett, reality had undergone a shift ever since his partner, Agent Kendra Wilson, had been so horribly murdered in the swamp. Before that time, he’d thought he had a grip on reality, that he knew the rules.
That he knew what he was doing.
But that was not the world that he existed in now. He had seen the blackened thing on the ground, the one with the glowing initials JB on her back. He had seen the dead, the evil in this world, and it had changed him.
A shudder ran through Brett, and he immediately grabbed for the flask.
And then the girls…all of those girls shouting the same thing over and over and over again.
Enter me! Enter me! Enter me!
Brett closed his eyes and took a good, long swig.
No, today, like everyday since Kendra’s murder, he definitely hadn’t wanted to wake up.
For a sweet second, he kept his eyes closed, debating whether or not he should just keep driving on the country road, just let go of everything and allow his car to drift where it wanted.
His foot pressed the accelerator just a little harder as his car started to veer to one side. The front tire hit something hard and jolted his eyes open. There was a tree, a thick oak tree, at the side of the road only about forty feet from where he was now.
It would be so easy just to swerve into it, smash into it.
To end it all.
No one would blame him.
“Fuck,” he swore, righting the wheel and putting the car back on the road. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
In the distance, he saw the sign for the crematorium. Even from a few miles down the road, the sight of the building accosted him like some sort of foul smell.
The sign looked like the advertisement for a haunted house, the curly ‘s’ of ‘Scarsdale’ twisting down into a snake, the wooden frame showing in several places where the decal had worn thin.
On top of the dark blue placard, another sign had been hastily stuck, but had since started peeling at the corners.
No visitors.
In the distance, he saw a square, gray building with a large chimney jutting from the flat roof like a single buck tooth.
A thick cloud of black smoke billowed from the tooth, which Brett thought of as a good sign. A sign that meant someone was here.
Ed the Nose.
His detective friend hadn’t even needed to tell him what he was calling about; Brett knew it from his voice. It was about the Michael Young case, the sicko from NYC who liked to eat women alive.
Brett was familiar with the case. His boss, Director Ames, had told him to be on alert, that he might have to go into the field, as much as the man knew it would pain Brett to do so without Kendra at his side.
But his friend needed help, backup, and so now he was here.
Brett knew that Ed was planning an ambush, but he had said that if he didn’t hear back from him by four, to head on over. Considering that Brett had already flown in from South Carolina, it was only a short drive to the crematorium.
A quick glance at the dashboard revealed that it was already a quarter to five, and his foot pressed down on the accelerator. A few minutes later, he pulled his rented Chevy right up to the front doors, noting the deep grooves in the mud.
Then he drew his gun and stepped out into the fading sun.
***
Scarsdale Crematorium was empty, save the still smoldering body in the oven. But someone had been here recently—several people, in fact. While there were no signs of struggle, and the place was generally a dump, he noted several different footprints on the dusty floor.
And it reeked of death.
Brett hesitated, trying to figure out what to do next. He had already called Ed, but it had gone straight to voicemail. He had called the precinct as well, but the dispatcher had informed him that Ed and his partner Hugh had gone out that morning and hadn’t returned.
Brett peeked into the oven again and his heart skipped a beat. The body was charred, a blackened, crispy mess that was only distinguishably human by the outline.
And for the briefest of moments, he thought it was Kendra, her lipless mouth forming a horrible kissy face.
“You let me burn, Brett,” he heard in his head. Or at least he thought it was in his head. “You were supposed to save me, but instead you just fucked me and then left me to burn.”
Brett’s eyes started to water, but he gritted his teeth and tried not to break down again. He wished he had his flask with him and not back in the car.
After all, that was what the alcohol was for: to forget, to numb, to not feel.
He hurried back up the stairs, coughing and spitting a black smear of saliva on the floor. When he made it to the top step, he took out his phone and dialed the last name on his rather short mental rolodex.
“Yeah, Director Ames. I’m here. Ed isn’t.”
There was a pause, and for a second Brett thought that maybe the phone had gone dead—reception had been sporadic ever since he had started down the dirt road. But then the director spoke in the same monotone voice he always used.
“Brett, I’ve received word that Michael is headed to Sacred Heart Orphanage.”
Brett screwed up his face.
“Received word? From who? Did Ed call you?”
Another pause.
“You need to head to the orphanage. Keep your eyes and ears peeled. You are to do recon and call me once you get there, got it? For no reason are you to interact with anyone you see at the orphanage, Ed, Hugh, and Michael included. You got it?”
Brett pushed a thumb and forefinger into his eyes.
He had not been expecting this.
Not supposed to interact? Even with Ed?
“What’s going on, Ames? What the fuck is going on? Is this related to Kendra somehow?”
The man ignored his question.
“Do you understand, Brett?”
“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath. “Yeah, I understand. Send the directions to my phone and I’ll head over there. What’s the place called again?”
This time, the response was immediate.
“Sacred Heart Orphanage. And Brett?”
“Yeah?”
“Do. Not. Engage.”
Chapter 32
There was something about the man in the cloak that Robert found oddly familiar, but like many things in his life—his new life—he couldn’t quite place the feeling.
He had enough trouble getting his mind around the idea that Shelly was a Guardian, that she was pregnant, that Sean had brought them to this high-rise office building, the Trellis Tower.
And that Shelly and his baby were in danger.
The man in the cloak slipped the book into his robe, and then dialed a number on his cell phone as they made their way toward the elevator.
Seeing that worn leather cover again incited a strong desire in Robert to reach out and grab the book, but he forced it away. With all of this talk about his unborn child, it seemed that everyone had forgotten about Amy.
But he hadn’t.
His goal was still to get her back.
The man in the cloak grumbled something that he didn’t quite pick up, then he ended the call.
Cal, on the other hand, had heard something, and it piqued his interest.
“FBI? You called the FBI about this?”
The Cloak raised his chin, and Robert realized that it wasn’t just a cloak that he was wearing, but there was some sort of black mask or turtleneck covering his face as well.
Who the fuck is this guy?
Sean had described him as one of the original Guardians, one of the most powerful, but that meant little to Robert.
Where did the Guardians come from? When did they come from?
“There is so much that you don’t know, Cal. There are people in high
places that are aware of the Marrow and the imminent danger, and who can help us if we really need it.”
Instead of being reassured, Cal threw his hands up in frustration.
“I’m sick and tired of people telling me that I don’t know nothing. Well, shit, if the leader of The Skulls would just tell me something, then maybe you can save your fucking breath later on. You know, an investment in your future.”
Robert reached out and placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder, trying to calm him. He half-expected Cal to pull away, but the man didn’t. Instead, he actually leaned into him.
“You have a car?” Robert asked.
The Cloak shook his head.
“Mine is here,” Sean informed them.
Robert mulled this over. He still loathed the man for being a cold-blooded murderer, for using poor Allan and Cal as bait, for getting him involved in all of this mess, despite the fact that he seemed genuinely concerned for both Shelly and the unborn baby’s safety.
“Cal, you go with Aiden, and I’ll go with Sean and the Cloak.”
Cal shook his head.
“No fucking way; we go together—we’re in this together, we fucking ride together.”
Robert mulled this over. He had wanted time alone with the Cloak, to see if he could somehow get his hands on the book, but Cal was probably right.
It was best if they stuck together.
He turned to Sean.
“How big is your car?”
“I have an SUV, seven-seater.”
“Perfect. We’ll take that, then.”
***
“It’s an hour drive to Sacred Heart,” Robert informed them, peering up from his phone. “So I think that the time will be best served telling us what you know.”
Sean, who was in the driver seat, turned to him.
“I told you already, you—”
“Aiden here thinks that you should start speaking, too, or he starts doling out hugs,” Cal offered.
The Cloak, who was in the passenger seat, turned and cast a glance at Aiden, who was in the third row of the SUV. Although Robert couldn’t see his eyes, he somehow knew that, unlike Sean, this one had no fear of the dead.
Sacred Heart Orphanage (The Haunted Book 5) Page 13
