by Janean Worth
“And, what is it that the Quislings do?” Bella asked.
“They spread evil, dear. They destroy goodness through any means possible, using their abilities to their own advantage.”
“And the shadows?” Bella asked. “What are they?”
“They’re manifestations of the Prince of Darkness’s minions. They can only inhabit the spiritual realm, as you know, and cannot physically affect us. As it says in the Bible, the Lord has delivered us from this domain of darkness. They often feed negative emotions—hate, avarice, rage—stoking them to unprecedented levels in those who are susceptible already.”
Bella realized that this made complete sense. Derek’s emotions on the night that he’d broken their engagement had seemed out of control and magnified, but she’d known that, deep down, he had felt at least a little resentful of her vow of chastity. And Mr. Bouthar’s response to her fainting had been beyond normal, to say the least, but it must have been based on some small grain of what he believed to be truth. The realization that these shadows, the Devil’s minions, were able to influence those already in the grip of negative emotion sent a shiver of fear down her spine.
Velma sought to comfort her. “There is nothing to fear, Bella. Anyone who asks for it has the protection of the Lord. These evil spirits must be allowed to influence people in this way, by those same people that they are influencing. They cannot take away a person’s freedom of will.”
“And your organization, the Invisible, they can protect others from this influence?”
David nodded, keeping his eyes on the road. “Yes, we can if they will allow it.”
“And what of those who fall under this influence? Are they . . . damaged?” Bella thought of Derek, and though hurt speared her heart as she remembered his treatment of her, she did not bear ill will toward him. She did not want him hurt, though he’d hurt her deeply.
“No, they are not damaged. But, most of them are extremely sorry for their behavior later,” Velma said.
David nodded again, then muttered, “Yes, be angry and sin not. Good words to live by.”
“And Derek. Will the Quislings leave him alone after I leave Portland?”
“We have taken precautions to guarantee that they do,” David told her.
“And how—” Bella’s question was cut off by the shrill ringtone of Velma’s phone.
The older woman mumbled, “Sorry , dear, just a moment.”
Velma answered the phone with a frown of concern, “Yes? What has happened?”
David and Velma shared a look across the front seat, and Bella wondered if they shared thoughts as well. Though it shouldn’t have, just the idea of being excluding from their mental exchange made her feel like an outsider, alone and on her own in a big, dark world. A world that had grown exponentially darker during the course of the day’s events.
“We are just leaving Portland, so we would be the closest available, since most of the others are out of the country,” Velma said, then paused to listen to the response from the person on the other end of the connection. “Yes, we will. Thank you.”
Velma pushed the icon to end the call, then stuffed the cell phone back into her pocket, looking upset and a little flustered.
“It seems that there is another who has exhibited the beginnings of extraordinary abilities, and he is currently in grave danger. We are the closest to his location. I’m afraid that our trip to the compound will have to be postponed, Bella. And, I apologize, but you’ll need to make your choice now, rather than later.”
Bella didn’t need to think very long. She again vividly recalled the fear and confusion she’d felt earlier in the day. If she could help David and Bella save someone else from experiencing a similar feeling, or rescue them from an even worse fate, such as the one that had loomed before her in that stark basement, she had to try to help. There was really no other choice to make.
She smiled, not even bothering to give them her answer aloud. She knew that they were already aware of her decision. Both of them were beaming at her from the front seat.
To be continued in Riches, Invisible, Episode Two. Find a free preview of Riches next:
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Riches
The Invisible
Episode 2
Chapter One
The brilliant, hot globe of the sun was just rising in the east, sending out fingers of warmth across the fading colors of the autumn landscape. Sitting on his glass‑and‑chrome patio balcony, overlooking the best view that the city of Houston had to offer, surrounded by all the richness that money could buy, Leo Vance was miserable.
And it was all because of money. It wasn’t that he didn’t have enough, as seemed to be the problem for so many others. No, it was that recently he had acquired too much. And he’d also acquired a host of problems that seemed to go with the money.
He sipped rich espresso that he’d made with the expensive Electa Belle machine out of a platinum‑rimmed Bernardaud Limoges cup—both gifts that had been foisted upon him by satisfied CEOs—and squinted against the glare of the rising sun, trying once again to determine exactly how his life had taken such a bad turn.
He now had truckloads of money. Boatloads, even. He had so much money that he didn’t know what he’d ever do with it all. And, getting it has been incredibly easy—but only recently, in the last three months. Before that, he’d had to struggle to make ends meet just like everyone else he knew. It wasn’t that he was lucky lately—no, it almost seemed to be more than that. It was almost as if he could not fail at making money now.
But he didn’t seem to be having that same success with everything else. Conversely, it now seemed as if he was failing at every other aspect of his life. His longtime girlfriend had recently dumped him for another man. A man she’d said was better‑looking and wasn’t such a stick in the mud. Apparently, her other man was a lot more fun than Leo was. But Leo knew that what she’d really meant was that this other man didn’t mind wasting money on foolish, unnecessary things like plastic surgery and trips to Vegas. She’d been angry with him for giving so much to charity, yet neglecting her need for bigger breasts and a smaller nose.
And, strangely, Leo’s friends now seemed to only like him for the things that he and his new enormous amounts of money could provide for them—and when he tried to tell them that maybe those things they wanted weren’t so good for them and that he wasn’t going to help them waste their lives or become addicted to the newest drugs on the street, they became angry and their relationships with him became strained. So much so that now he didn’t feel like he had a single real friend left.
But these strained relationships didn’t make him change his mind about providing his friends with things that weren’t good for them. He didn’t believe in throwing crazy, wild parties so that his friends could get “wasted” and have fun, or buying sports cars just so his buds could pick up women. It just wasn’t right, not when others needed that money for basic needs. Still, he missed the camaraderie that he used to have with his friends before he’d started making money hand over fist.
Even his acquaintances had started hitting him up for money lately. He didn’t mind, as long as it was to help them out—after all, he now had more money than he could ever spend in a lifetime—but when they started coming to him for gambling debt payments or to buy drugs or booze, he had to turn them away. And this, of course, did not endear him to them at all.
Before he’d become a seemingly infallible financial guru, he’d thought that what people said about money was wrong. He’d heard time and again that money was the root of all evil, and he hadn’t believed it. But now, after dealing with the flood of money for a while he was starting to believe it.
Though he’d tried not to let it hap
pen, his money had corrupted all of his friends, and, he had to admit, he was starting to feel its deleterious effects as well. For the first time in his life, he was glad that he had no family and had been an orphan for all of his formative years. It would have been too painful to see his money corrupt a beloved mother or father, sister, or brother. That, he could not have borne.
Lately, he could feel the pull of the money upon his own thoughts and actions. He could easily quit his job as a consultant. He had no real need for an income anymore. He could buy anything he wanted, go anyplace he pleased. Money equaled power, and he had it in spades. But he fought against the corruption of ease and plenty. Instead, he donated massive amounts to deserving charities and those in need. He believed that he could still do good in the world, and so he tried desperately to funnel his time, energy, and money into that. The problem was, he just kept making more money. No matter how much he donated, it seemed like he always received it back tenfold.
And, he hadn’t quite figured out why.
When the sun’s creeping rays reached where he sat on his massive patio balcony, he finished the rest of his espresso and went inside to prepare for his day. He had an important meeting with the head of Green International that he didn’t want to be late for.
Green International was a multi‑billion‑dollar company. It was also the biggest donor to charity organizations in Houston—other than Leo, of course. But, since he always insisted on being an anonymous donor, no one, other than his ex‑girlfriend, knew that he donated so much to worthy causes. His anonymous status made it seem that, instead, Green International was the biggest philanthropic organization around.
Lately, Green International had come into a bit of financial trouble, and with his status as the best financial advisor around, he’d been called in to consult. Leo was eager to help so that their charity donations could continue. Though Green International’s donations had already dropped a great deal in the previous few months, Leo was confident that he could help them recoup their losses and commence the donations again. After all, those in need in the city of Houston could use all of the help that they could get, and Leo was determined to do all that he could to help them get the help that they needed.
Chapter Two
Draven Latimer, the leader of the Quisling cell in Houston, had big plans for the city. But before his plans could be put into play, the Houston cell needed to stop all of the do‑gooders in the city from mitigating the misery that he and his men tried so hard to create each and every day.
The biggest block to his success in chasing good from the city and replacing it with evil was, of course, those who constantly donated to the causes most in need. He needed to put a stop to the charitable donations for the soup kitchens, homeless shelters, domestic‑violence centers, and free medical‑care centers. If he could interrupt the flow of money to those types of organizations, he knew that it would be only too easy to stop their volunteers, too. And after that, they’d soon be forced to close their doors. This would create much misery in the city, making it a lot easier for his cell to put the rest of their plans in motion. A miserable city was a vulnerable city. And everyone knew that misery loved company. If his cell could instigate enough misery in the city, it would soon become a self‑perpetuating circle.
One corporation in particular was responsible for a huge part of the charitable donations for those types of do‑gooder organizations, and he’d already implanted men within the company ranks and had them start to decrease financial revenues. Mostly, they had come up with clever ways to siphon off the profits of Green International and funnel that money into the bank accounts of various Quisling enterprises. But, they’d had a little help from their various supernatural abilities, too. With those powers working in their favor, his cell had the upper hand and easily manipulated others within the company to do their bidding.
So far, it was working splendidly. Without their huge profits, Green International’s donations had already begun to decrease dramatically. It was working so well, in fact, that the company had hired a financial consultant. The meeting would be today, and Draven intended to be there. One of his abilities allowed him to remain unseen to the undiscerning eye—very similar to the abilities of those filthy Invisibles who tried so hard to undermine his organization’s works—so he had no reason to believe that he wouldn’t be allowed to attend the meeting. They wouldn’t even know he was there.
He was quite looking forward to it. The consultant that they’d hired had recently come up on the Quisling’s radar, anyway. It seemed that the man, Leo Vance, had begun to display a certain ability, one that would prove very, very useful to Draven’s cell.
Draven was feeling very eager to meet the man. If fate was on his side, by the end of the day, Mr. Vance would be a member of their organization, whether he was willing to be or not.
Chapter Three
With a shaking hand, Leo slapped the “down” arrow button on the wall and waited impatiently for the elevator to arrive, breathing deeply to calm himself. The airy, glass‑walled hallway on the top floor of Green International headquarters should have given him a feeling of ease and calm—great care had been taken by the interior designer to create just such an effect—but instead he felt caged and pent up.
Green International’s financials were worse than he’d thought they’d be—far, far worse. He wasn’t sure even his newfound talents would be enough to help them back into a profit margin large enough to recover their recent losses.
And, to add to this bad report, the meeting itself had been tense and awkward. There had been an air of unseen heaviness present with them in the immense board room where the meeting had taken place. It had manifested as an oppressive feeling of indistinct evil. It had been odd, to say the least, and the atmosphere had not helped Leo mitigate the board members’ concerns at all. In fact, it had almost seemed to work against his efforts.
But worst of all, Leo himself was not feeling at the top of his game . Though he’d arisen early, had his traditional healthy breakfast, done his hour of treadmill and weights, and should have been feeling terrific, he had seen things inside the board room that had made him question his own mental well‑being. While sitting at the huge marble‑and‑glass table, he had—multiple times—caught a glimpse of a man lounging against the wall in the corner of the room.
When he’d tried to look directly at the man, his image had always wavered and then disappeared. After the fourth time this had occurred, Leo had decided that he must be hallucinating. And when the huge, evil‑looking, red‑eyed shadows had begun to filter into the room and hover near the board members, he’d been sure of it.
When the meeting had finally concluded, Leo had been feeling hot under the collar, sick to his stomach with nerves, and very eager to leave. Even now, as he waited for the elevator, he couldn’t quite shake the feeling of pervasive, unseen evil. In fact, it felt as if the evil had stalked him all the way from the board room to the elevator.
He snorted aloud, scoffing at his own thoughts. That just wasn’t possible. Evil didn’t stalk people. Perhaps the kale in his green smoothie that morning had been spoiled, and it was messing with his brain chemistry in some way and causing these hallucinations and paranoid delusions.
When the elevator arrived, Leo hurried inside, turning to press the button for the lobby before leaning against the glossy, wood‑paneled interior and closing his eyes against the headache that was beginning to pound in his head.
As the elevator descended, he blinked several times, hoping to clear his brain fog, and once again noticed the man standing in a corner.
“Are you real?” Leo asked, glad that he was alone in the elevator so that he could at least confront this figment of his imagination.
The man said nothing, but his image did not fade as Leo stared directly at him this time. He stared back at Leo, his dark eyes filled with such an expression of menace that Leo was forced to look away.
Even knowing that he was a hallucination did not prevent
a chill from chasing down Leo’s spine after seeing that look in the man’s eyes. It was a murderous gaze, filled with malice and contempt. Leo couldn’t fathom why his subconscious mind, hopped up on bad bioflavonoids from spoiled kale, would conjure up such a thing.
When the elevator doors whooshed open, Leo exited eagerly and hurried out of the building. On the bright sidewalk in front of the building, he saw his hallucination exit and join up with three other men. They all turned toward him, and Leo’s head lanced with pain as their gazes focused upon him.
Hallucination or not, he sensed that he had better not linger. These images of men that only he appeared to be able to see carried with them the same shadow of evil that had permeated the atmosphere of the board room.
Skin prickling in warning at his nape, Leo set off at a fast walk toward the massive parking garage where he’d parked his Hummer. It was only a block away.
Though it was nearing eighty degrees outside, a cold sweat broke out on his skin under his favorite power suit. He’d worn the heavy suit that morning just for the meeting, but as he walked to the garage, it felt oppressive and he couldn’t wait to get out of it.
Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that the three men following him had been flanked by three more men. These three were dressed a bit differently than the others, in dark hoodies and black cargo pants. All three of the newcomers had telltale bulges under their clothing, indicating to Leo that they were all armed.
Leo turned back to the sidewalk and picked up the pace, hoping he’d be able to make it back to the parking garage before they could catch up to him.
But, like everything lately except for financials, Leo’s luck did not hold out. As he rounded the corner, entering the lowest level of the garage, he ran right into an immovable mountain of muscle.
