by Ren Hamilton
Patrick leaned forward. “And you were supposed to keep away from Russell, weren’t you, Klee?” Klee drew back like he’d been slapped. Patrick winked at him. Klee turned and ran up the cellar stairs, slamming it shut behind him.
“Why are you taunting them?” Carbone asked.
“Because it’s fun.” Patrick was aware that he was beginning to lose it. It was bound to happen sooner or later.
“Priorities, Patrick,” Father Carbone said. “We need to stay alive long enough to get out of here. Purposely angering our captors is not going to help.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’m just so sick of them though! And where the hell is Litner anyway? He said he was going get us out of here. Look at us now!”
Robin leaned in close to him. “We are going to get out of here. You just have to hold it together a little bit longer. Okay?”
“Okay. What the hell. There isn’t much left, but whatever’s there, I’ll hold together.” He looked over at Father Carbone. “Shouldn’t you be praying or something?”
Father Carbone looked down. “Yes, Patrick. I suppose I should be. I’ll get right on that.”
“See that you do.”
Chapter Fifty-One
The sliding door opened and Allisto stepped onto the deck. “Joey, you be all right, good?”
“Yes, Allisto. I’m good. Like the last three times you asked me. Please fuck off back inside and don’t come out here again.”
Scowling, Allisto shouted, “I am doing my duty for Shepherd! He said I am to keep you watched while Obrien is detained.”
Joey leaned back in his chair and glanced over his shoulder at the black-haired brother. “I don’t need watching. What I do need is some peace and quiet, and not to see your goddamn ugly face again tonight. Got it?”
Allisto sneered, then retreated inside, slamming the door with a hard bang that made Joey jump.
“That’s right, throw a tantrum,” Joey muttered under his breath. “Not so different from your big brother after all.”
Inhaling deeply, he hoped to be left alone now to enjoy the cool spring night. He just wanted some goddamn solitude. Why could no one give him that? He’d thought he might have some peace now that Kelinda fucked off to wherever she went. Russell had left them too, though Joey wasn’t sure why. He’d enjoyed Russell’s company, but honestly it was nice having fewer people in the house. He was so fucking tired of people.
It was grueling having to smile and perform like a dancing monkey for those sixty drones in the field every day. Then listen to Shep order him around and snap at him all the time, not to mention making the brothers check on him nonstop. Someone was always hovering, and Joey needed a damn break.
And he sure as hell didn’t give a fuck about Juris’s homecoming. It was bad enough with three of them around, now he had to deal with four. Ever since the first one popped out of that cave wall, Shep’s attention had been divided, and Joey’s quality of life had gone rapidly downhill. That’s what pissed him off the most. He knew the brothers were important to Shep, but he hadn’t expected their presence to be so all encompassing. Everything had changed, and as excited as he was to see Shep’s plans falling into place, Joey longed for the old days, when it was just them.
What Joey and Shep had went beyond simple concepts like friendship. It was a true partnership, sealed in blood, and elevated above any human commitment. But lately, Joey missed just having a plain, simple, best friend again. He missed hanging out with Shep and going to pubs and laughing at the absurdity of life with his favorite person by his side. These days, Shep rarely laughed at all. He was consistently paranoid and pissed off about some snag or other.
Life with Shep used to be so fulfilling and…fun. Joey wanted the fun back. Hopefully, once the crop was on its way to the targeted warehouses, things would quiet down a bit. And Joey would have his friend back.
Though the ritual Shep performed on him sedated most emotions, Joey wondered why certain ones still lingered. He felt no guilt or remorse, no love or empathy, which was helpful, if not outright necessary to his role in things. But he did still feel protective of Robin, who he’d grown up with. And unexpectedly, he could still experience envy. But only with regards to Shep. He missed having Shep all to himself, and resented the attention lavished on the brothers. Perhaps it was not natural, human envy he felt, but some side-effect of years being physically and supernaturally bonded to Shep.
That had to be it. It was the blood bond causing him to misinterpret things. Jealousy was such a petty, human emotion, and Joey didn’t like to think of himself that way.
Setting his drink down on the deck beside him, he squinted as something caught his eye at the edge of the dark woods, a flash of pink. At first he thought it was Kelinda, then the figure stepped out into the clearing and he saw it was Carlos, his pink Mohawk shining in the moonlight as he slowly approached.
Joey stood. “Carlos? What are you doing up here? You’re supposed to be guarding the crops.”
Carlos approached the deck. “Hello Joey.”
Joey gave an exasperated sigh. “Yes, hello Carlos. Maybe you didn’t hear me. Shep wants all of you guarding the guest house and the perimeters. Did you forget?”
He shook his pink head. “I didn’t forget. But I’ve found something. You need to come see.”
Joey walked toward Carlos. “What is it?”
Carlos smiled. “It’s amazing. You have to see it for yourself.”
“Just tell me.”
“That will ruin it. Trust me, Joey. You want to see this for yourself. You won’t regret it.”
“Fine. I’ll come with you for a minute. But this better be good. Shep has us on high alert right now and he’d be none too pleased if he knew you left your post.”
“Come quickly!”
Joey glanced back at the house. He didn’t see Allisto hovering anywhere, so he hopped off the deck and followed Carlos into the woods.
At first he was happy to be away from the house, thinking it would be a refreshing night walk. But Carlos led him away from the main trail and off the beaten path, and it soon became thorny and buggy. He was wearing shorts, and branches snapped against his bare legs painfully. “How far is it?”
“Almost there.”
They walked for another ten minutes and Joey was getting annoyed. They’d nearly reached the end of the property when Carlos stopped and turned to face him.
“Well?” Joey threw his arms up. “What is it? What did you find?”
“I found Kelinda,” Carlos said.
“Kelinda?” Joey wrinkled his nose. “Where is that crazy bitch?”
Kelinda stepped out from behind a tree, along with eight of the male followers. “The crazy bitch is right here, Joey,” she said.
Joey looked at the followers that flanked Kelinda. They gazed at him with a mixture of adoration and hunger. “What the hell do you guys want?”
“You need to come with us,” Carlos said.
Joey laughed. “I don’t think so. I need to get back to the house and you guys need to get back to your posts. This has gone far enough.”
Kelinda stepped forward. She wore the black lace nighty from the night she disappeared, and walked toward him seductively, her pink hair a disarray of menacing spikes framing her pretty face. She looked crazier than usual, and considering she’d cut him with a knife and tried to drink his blood last time he saw her, that was saying something.
Joey took a step back. Kelinda noticed, and a grin spread across her face. “What’s the matter Joey? Do I make you nervous?”
“Nervous, no. Repulsed is more like it. You look like shit, Kelinda. When’s the last time you showered?”
She glanced at the two men to either side of her. “Grab him.”
They each took one of Joey’s arms. He struggled against them. “Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing? You don’t listen to her! You listen to me! I am your messiah!”
Kelinda grabbed his face in one hand. “That’s right, Gorgeous. You ar
e our messiah.” The others formed a circle around him.
“Don’t touch me!” He jerked his head back. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“You see, Joey, we’ve been thinking. Jesus gave his body and blood for his followers.” She smiled sweetly. “We expect no less of you.”
Chapter Fifty-Two
They all grew frustrated as an hour passed and there was no sign of Agent Litner. There were no gunshot sounds from the house next door, and no dramatic rescue attempts. Just the four of them, tied up and helpless, left alone to contemplate their fate. Patrick wondered exactly how much Juris was telling Shep up there. But more urgently, he wondered what exactly Shep was going to do about it.
“Maybe we can just get up and sneak out the front door while Shep’s distracted,” Copie said. “I escaped a burning lab while tied to a chair, I think I can work a doorknob with my hands behind my back.”
Carbone nodded. “I like that idea. Beats sitting here waiting for…whatever.”
“I can’t leave,” Patrick said. “Stupid blood bond. But you guys try it if you want. I don’t think the basement door locks.”
The door opened at the top of the stairs with a crash, and they all jumped.
“So much for that,” Carbone muttered.
Shep’s feet appeared, then his legs, then he himself rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs. He was freshly showered, dressed in faded jeans with a purple and white tie-dye tank top, his sandy curls still slightly damp. He looked handsome and normal, harmless as a kitten. He looked human, deceptively so. Father Carbone’s eyes widened at the sight of him.
“Do you know how much time I wasted?” Shep said, standing directly in front of Patrick. “Years. Years listening to your boring stories. Helping your dumb ass through classes in college. Kissing your boo boos and salving your many insecurities. Years having to pose as your supportive friend. Shit man, I’m having trouble coming up with one thing I do like about you. You’ve even got shitty taste in music.”
Patrick said nothing, but his cheeks burned hot. After everything, the words shouldn’t have stung, but they did.
“Years, Obrien,” Shep continued. “Years spent cultivating you to be the protector of my Sword, my messiah, my most sacred vessel. And what do you do instead? You lead danger to his door. You lead it right to his fucking door!” he screamed into Patrick’s face.
His voice bellowed through the empty basement and Patrick began to shake. Shep was radiating the same energy he’d exhibited the day he told Patrick he couldn’t leave the property, like an electric current charging the air. And to make matters worse, Patrick was beginning to feel the tingling in his temples that told him Joey might be in trouble. This was probably a bad time to bring it up.
“Please, Shep, be reasonable,” Patrick said. “None of this was ever going to work. Joey’s not a sacred vessel. He’s some kid you chose off the street and brainwashed with your blood. He’s no messiah.”
Shep’s eyes blazed yellow for an instant, then he punched Patrick in the face so hard he saw stars. “Joey is whatever I say he is.”
“Shep stop it!” Robin screamed. “Patrick, you all right?”
Patrick swooned from the pain as he struggled to keep consciousness. In all the years Patrick had known him, Shep never hit him. Sure, they’d fought before, but they were silly scuffles that usual involved wrestling in the dirt. And Shep had never, ever used his full strength. This time he had, or at least some of it. Patrick heard a ringing in his ear, and he was fairly sure his cheekbone was fractured. His terror mounted, overwhelming even the pain in his face. Whatever ambivalence he’d been feeling toward Shep dissipated in a heartbeat.
This man was not his friend. This was a monster.
Shep shook out the hand he’d used to administer the punch, gave Patrick one more sneer, then moved on down the line. He tossed his hair back almost seductively, and knelt before Copie, whose skin instantly paled. “So,” Shep said. “You’re alive.”
“It would seem so,” Copie whispered.
“And the photographs?”
“Destroyed in the fire.”
Shep nodded, and stood. “Well, at least we accomplished that much.”
Father Carbone had his head bowed, whispering softly in prayer. Shep reached out and waved his hand in front of Carbone’s face, snapping his fingers. The priest looked up. “Could you stop that please, Father Carbone? Thanks.”
Carbone stared up at Shep with something like awe. It worried Patrick. He hoped Carbone wasn’t about to go soft on him.
Shep paced back in forth in front of them. “Where is Steven Litner, and when is he going to try to steal my crop?” The room remained silent. Shep looked over at them. He placed a hand to his ear. “Huh? I can’t hear you! Where is Steven Litner, and when is he going to try to steal my crop?”
Again, none of them spoke. Shep strode casually down to Father Carbone and knelt in front of him. “You’re Litner’s buddy, aren’t you? According to my research, which I admit was a rush job, you and Litner went to school together.”
Carbone nodded. “That’s correct.”
“When is your friend coming to pay us a visit, Carbone? Will it be tonight? Tomorrow? The next day?”
“I’ll tell you nothing,” the priest answered sharply.
Shep moved in very close to him and Carbone pushed himself back against the wall.
“Leave him alone, Shep!” Robin said.
“You shut up.” Shep pointed a finger at her. “You don’t exist to me anymore, so I don’t want to hear your voice.” He turned his attention back to Father Carbone. With eyes still on the priest, he reached over and trailed a finger down Copie’s cheek. Copie whimpered and squeezed his eyes shut. “Are you fond of this child, Father Carbone?”
“Leave the boy alone. You almost killed him once, isn’t that enough?”
“Obviously not. He’s still here, isn’t he?” Shep smiled at Copie. “Have you risen from the dead, boy? Perhaps I should have chosen you as my messiah. Shall we see if you can do it twice?”
“Leave him be!” the priest hissed.
“Then tell me what you know.”
“I don’t know where Agent Litner is, and I don’t know exactly when he is coming,” Carbone said. “That’s the truth.”
Shep stood and brushed his jeans off. “It doesn’t matter. When your hero Litner comes, we’ll be ready for him.”
A pain ripped through Patrick’s head, small enough to hide, but sharp enough to make him wince. Joey was definitely in some sort of discomfort. He only hoped it didn’t escalate too quickly. If there was a positive side to his bond with Joey, it was that it enhanced his physical strength when Joey was in crisis. If Patrick could hide the reaction until Shep left the room, he was sure he could bust out of the ropes. He might even be able to do it now, but he wouldn’t risk it. One punch from Shep convinced him he could never win in a physical altercation.
Shep, however, did not seem to be planning on leaving them anytime soon. He sat down in front of them and pulled his knees up to his chest, resting his chin on his arm. “Do they know what it does?” he asked Father Carbone.
“Excuse me?”
“My crop. Do your lawmen know what it does?”
“No,” Father Carbone said.
Shep turned to Patrick. “Obrien, I’ll ask you, since you can’t lie to me. At least not very well. Do the lawmen know what the crop does?”
Patrick sighed. It was futile to lie to Shep, so he told him what he knew. “They believe you intend to use it for human sterilization.”
Shep looked surprised, then angry. “How did the stupid sons of bitches figure it out?”
“Agent Litner tested it on himself,” Father Carbone answered.
Shep shook his head. “Slippery bastard.”
“That’s just what he says about you,” Carbone said. Shep raised his eyebrows and nodded, looking somewhat intrigued.
“Why are you doing it, Shep? I mean, you can’t pos
sibly sterilize everyone,” Patrick said.
“I don’t want to sterilize everyone. What the hell do you think? That I’m out to eliminate human life?”
“Well, aren’t you?”
“No, you dumb fuck.”
“But why, Shep? Why are you doing this at all?”
Shep shifted onto his knees and glared at him. “You might want to stop worrying about the little details so much. You’re going to be dead soon.”
“Why? Because I betrayed you?”
“Yes!” Shep bellowed and the basement windows rattled.
Patrick felt terror, but it was laced with frustration and anger. “How the hell can you sit there and scream about my betrayal after everything you’ve done to me?” he shouted back. “You used me, Shep! You used me for ten fucking years!”
“Oh, you’re breaking my heart.”
Patrick stared at Shep and wanted to cry. After all that had happened, Patrick was still hurt. “You know something? When I found out the truth about you, I wished you would have told me yourself, a long time ago. I could have helped you deal with things in a different way. I would have accepted anything about you.”
“Obrien, with all due respect to that touching rhetoric, this is not a minor character flaw I have here. I’m from another realm. The two of us don’t exactly have a lot in common. I have existed for longer than humanity. I’m one of your prototypes. Do you understand that?”
“I think so, yes.”
“No! No you don’t!” Shep yelled.
“I think I know something about it,” Carbone said.
Shep’s brows shot up and he turned to the priest. “Oh, do you, now?”
“You had no control in your old life. You were a grunt worker in the other realm, with no real power. So you came here. To be a big fish in a small pond.”
Shep went very still. “I beg your pardon?”
“Zirub,” Father Carbone said. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
Shep nodded. “Oh, I see. You’ve learned Rumpelstiltskin’s name. Is that it? Am I supposed to be impressed?”
