Nina couldn't believe that he had the nerve to say that. After the amount of effort it took to try to even plan a getaway, he could look her in the eyes and say that. “What do you mean it didn't matter?!”
“There was only ever going to be one result. Failure. You were never going to escape. No matter what you did you were going to end up right back here.”
“I don't believe that.”
“Believe what you want to believe but facts are what matter in the long run. Blame me and hate me if it makes you feel better, but you never had a chance. It made no difference if I got involved or not. If anything, I saved you.”
“Saved me?!” Nina was trying her hardest not to just scream as loud as she could. Everything he was saying was just so wrong and warped. Those broken glasses must have done a number on how he viewed the world. “Is that what you did?! That's why Charles is at the bottom of a hole? Because you saved us, right?!”
“I am sure he's fine,” Elijah said. “If being revived by the Spear of Destiny can make Julian survive a bullet to the face, I doubt a fall like that would do any real damage, especially not kill him. Charles has got the same power flowing through him that Julian has. That ... it's unlike anything I've ever seen ... it's just raw, concentrated life.” Elijah saw how upset she still was and then, in his awkward way, seemed to try to give her some small comfort. “If you'd like, I could check on Charles the next time I'm in the vault. You can check on him with me if you work with me again.”
Nina chuckled but it was only to hold back the screams that she really wanted to let out. “You didn't save any of us.”
“I disagree,” Elijah said. “Had you gotten outside, you would not have gotten far. You may have even been killed in the attempt. If you survived, you still would have been inevitably caught and brought back here. Are you starting to understand? Yes. I did save your life, whether you accept it or not.”
It was like he was expecting a thank you but Nina wouldn't be giving him one.
“Listen to me, Dr. Gould,” Elijah said, growing grave. “You need to listen carefully and remember every word I am about to say. There is no point trying to escape. None at all. The Black Sun shines on the whole world now. Once they see you ... once they want you ... there's no getting away from it. Believe me. You might as well get used to his place.”
Elijah gave her another look of pity, and maybe even some recognition, and walked away out of sight.
Nina sat alone in the cell, thinking about all of the events that led to her imprisonment. There was a time when defeating the Order of the Black Sun wasn't difficult for her, Purdue, and Sam to do. Now though, now they seemed utterly unstoppable. Julian Corvus might actually even be literally unstoppable. And if Julian went through his crazy plan, the order was about to become an even bigger problem for the rest of the world.
They had just proven that Nina couldn't stand up to them. She had no idea where Sam was but she couldn't imagine it was anywhere good or helpful. He might not even still be alive. The only one who could have given the Order of the Black Sun a real fight was David Purdue. She missed him now more than ever. And in the darkness of her cell, Nina cried herself to sleep, hoping that she could still talk to Purdue in her dreams.
16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN – THE ENEMY RETURNS
Julian Corvus sat in front of an enormous world map hanging on the wall of his chamber. Pins were placed in the location where his Black Sun operatives were positioned, dispersed all across the globe. The order's influence would permeate through every nation, every community, and even every person. The seeds were being planted, ready to grow into the world that Julian wished for, that the Black Sun was working toward—a better world, with the Black Sun shining down on everyone.
Despite the resistance of his prisoners, he wasn't deterred. He didn't need Nina Gould's support. She had made her choice to continue following the lead of David Purdue, even though he wasn't even on this earth anymore. Even now, when Julian had showed her just how futile her efforts were.
He was grateful to her, in a way. Without her hatred of him ... without her trying to kill him yet again ... he would never have learned that he had become impossible to kill. He was just as surprised as the rest of them, and he was the one with the bullet in his head. The Spear of Destiny's influence over his life was a bit more permanent than he thought it was. He rather enjoyed that even a rain of bullets wouldn't be able to stop him. It was like God himself was keeping him alive, to ensure he went through with all of the plans he had.
Unfortunately, he had unwittingly given these same powers of recovery to others as well. His subordinate, Lennox, and that butler of Purdue's. They were supposed to be lab rats in his study of the spear. Now they were invulnerable, just like him. He couldn't have that. So he tossed Charles into the deep vault and he had since had Lennox buried in the earth, buried alive. He couldn't risk anyone being on the same playing field as him. If he was going to carry out his will, he needed to be the most powerful of anyone.
Julian wanted to test his abilities. He wanted to see exactly how far his body could go with this power of life coursing through his veins. Could his body mend itself if he lost a limb or would the wound just close, leaving him with a stub? If he was beheaded, would he still be alive as a severed skull? What were the limits to his newfound abilities? These were the questions that ran through his mind. Everyone should know their own capabilities but he wasn't sure if he wanted to find out the answers to those questions. He would have to wait until someone hurt him that much ... if that day ever came.
The only other thing that he thought so deeply about was whether the spear's power just protected him from bodily injury or if it truly granted him everlasting life. Was he immortal or would he continue to age and eventually die a natural death? Could illnesses still affect him or would his body purge the things that were harming him from inside? Those answers would inevitably come in time, he was sure. He truly hoped that he was as unstoppable as he felt.
Immortality would be the greatest gift he ever received. It would enhance the plans he had exponentially. With all the time in the world, he could do whatever he wanted to that world. He could lay groundwork for centuries to come and still see them through. It was what so many people dreamed of, since life was so often cut too short. If he had become truly immortal, then there was no one in the world who could stop him, ever. He would make sure that spear never touched another person's body again to avoid giving this gift to anyone who he didn't want it to be given to.
He had already cleared the board of so many players who could have threatened him. The original ruling elders of the Order of the Black Sun had been executed on his commands. He had put a stop to David Purdue's interferences and then snuffed out his life. And he had even gone so far as to imprison Purdue's allies and try to bring them over to the Black Sun's side. They hadn't been as cooperative as he hoped but there was still time to change their minds. He could still completely purge any and all threats to his reign.
He pictured it in his mind—the world as he dreamed it could be. Ruling for hundreds of years with the revived conquerors of the past at his side. He could bring the Order of the Black Sun out of the shadows and unite the entire world under his leadership. It all seemed so much closer to being within his grasp.
It was. He vowed to make that imaginary world a reality. All of this was just the beginning. There would be no stopping him anymore. Anyone who tried would fail. Their bullets would fall to the floor. Their blades were going right through him. This power ... all of this ... ever since being stabbed by the Spear of Destiny ... it was a new beginning for him; a proper beginning. It all started then, the moment he was brought back from death.
This was his second life—and his second life may last eons now. Already, in the short time since his revival, he had already accomplished so much. There was so much more to come.
Julian wanted to burst out into triumphant laughter. Every fiber of his being was filled with so much glee and excitement. The wor
ld map was staring him in the face and he could picture how he was going to topple each and every ruling government until the Order of the Black Sun was the only thing left to lead the people. The black sun would rise and shine over everyone on the planet, as it should.
“Sir,” came a voice from behind.
Julian withdrew his attention from the map. It was a vaguely familiar looking man; nothing more than one of the grunts who were practically servants within the order and just did as they were told if they ever hoped to improve their status. Julian had never bothered to remember any of their names. Their chances of ascension to any sort of important position were minimal at best. The man kept averting his gaze, staring at the floor, and obviously intimidated to have to speak to the order's leader.
He managed to stutter out his message. “We found someone. Someone who was asking about us online.”
“Asking about us?”
“Yes. We set alerts to monitor any mention of the Black Sun on the internet. He has been asking around recently. Posting in some confidential black market sites trying to get in contact with us. We captured him to find out how he knows about us ... or what he knows about us.”
“Without my instruction?”
The young man looked like he was about to pee himself. “I-I-It was Galen's orders, sir. He thought it best to interrogate him to find out who he is and why he's asking about us. He didn't want to risk him drawing any unneeded attention. Now ... now Galen's asking for you to come see.”
Julian wasn't overly interested in what some random stranger on the internet had to say. Still, their order had been very successful at staying hidden. They had kept out of the public eye for a very long time. If someone was asking around about them, then he at least knew something. And if Galen was asking for Julian's presence, then maybe it was serious.
“Very well,” Julian said with a bored sigh. “Tell Galen that I will be along very shortly.”
Julian walked down to one of the interrogation cells of the compound and was immediately met by Galen. He stood there, leaning on his cane, waiting to welcome Julian. Julian walked right past him without any sort of greeting, knowing that Galen would hurry along to catch up with him anyway. Sure enough, Galen started limping beside him, trying his best to keep up with his pace.
“What did he say?” Julian asked.
“Top o' the morning to you too,” Galen said. “Well he hasn't actually said anything. At least verbally.”
“What do you mean...?”
“You'll see,” Galen said with a snicker.
Galen led Julian into one of their windowless chambers that was used for interrogation. There was a man there. He was dark-skinned, slender, and obviously tall even though he was sitting down. He looked at Julian with a hollow gaze and a passive expression, like nothing around him mattered.
Whoever he was, Julian could tell that he had seen horrors and probably committed many of them himself.
“And just who might you be?” Julian asked pleasantly. “So you've been asking around about us. Here we are. You found us.”
Julian had half a mind to execute the man right then and there. They didn't have need of strangers trying to expose their order. It would be the safest decision to just get rid of him altogether.
The man kept his mouth shut and kept looking ahead, filled with some simmering contempt behind his eyes. It was a hateful stare but it wasn't directed at Julian. It was passing through him like he wasn't even there at all. That man's wrath didn't seem fixed on any one person. It stretched out at everything around him.
“You don't seem to want to speak.”
“He can't,” Galen interjected with a bit too much amusement. “The lad's missing an essential tool.”
Galen stuck out his tongue and laughed. Julian understood the blunt implication and wasn't fond of Galen's blunter way of making it.
“His name is Oniel. He ran with the Wharf Man out of Jamaica.”
“The Wharf Man?” Julian had heard that moniker before. He was some big crime kingpin who had a stranglehold on all of Jamaica's shipping. Nothing was imported or exported into that country without him knowing about it. Mostly, Julian had heard how violent the Wharf Man could be. If this dead-eyed mute worked with him, there was a good chance he was even more dangerous than he seemed.
There were a few papers laid out on the table in front of him, filled with scribbles and messy handwriting.
Galen pointed down at the paperwork. “Communication was a bit difficult, as you can imagine, so I had him write down whatever it was he wanted to tell us so bad.”
Julian picked up the sheets and looked them over. The handwriting was hard to decipher at first glance. The spelling and grammar didn't help much either. The man obviously wasn't too adept with the English language.
Before Julian had a chance to start really reading, Galen started summarizing what had been written out loud. “Oniel here talks about how the Wharf Man recently went looking for a whole mountain of gold that was hidden away by some pirate. There were some setbacks because of the people they were working with, setbacks they tried to correct, but the Wharf Man ended up dead.”
Julian was surprised to hear the news. It was always interesting to see powerful men collapse. His slaughter of the old Black Sun elders had been his firsthand experience making something like that happen. It would have taken a very daring human being to bring down someone as notorious as the Wharf Man.
“So you're out of a job,” Julian surmised. And you're here because you're looking for new work?”
Oniel bowed his head as an affirmative response.
“Interesting, but I do have to wonder ... how did you even know about us? The Black Sun doesn't exactly post that we're looking for help. We are generally very selective in our recruitment, and we find the candidates, not the other way around.”
Oniel didn't say anything, as expected, but he glanced at the papers. Galen started chuckling beside Julian, like he was in the punch line of some joke that they hadn't gotten to yet. “That's exactly why I asked for you to come down here. Oniel has a mutual acquaintance with us.”
Julian's curiosity was piqued. Whoever was leaking information about their order would need to be silenced. “And who might that be?”
Galen grinned. “Turn the page.”
Julian flipped to the next sheet and in the midst of all the chicken scratch writing, he saw an all too familiar name—David Purdue.
“Purdue...” Julian let out a long exhale and then smiled himself, tossing the papers to the table in front of Oniel. “My apologies to tell you this, but David Purdue is gone. He died quite some time ago.”
Galen tapped the papers with his cane, looking disappointed by Julian's reaction. “No, no, no. Look closer. All of this, that whole story he put down about the search for the pirate's gold ... that all happened after we dealt with that business at the Purdue estate.”
Oniel's eyes narrowed. Whatever grievances he had with Purdue seemed very raw in that gaze. His hatred was much more recent than Julian was thinking. He could understand Purdue upsetting someone that much. He had been quite an annoying gnat but he was dead. That should have made Oniel happy to hear. If this really was after the raid on his mansion ... a terrible feeling crept across Julian's skin.
He leaned over the table, looking hard at Oniel. “What is it you're trying to tell me? Spit it out.”
Galen spoke up for Oniel again. “He's saying that Davy is still alive. That arrogant bastard didn't die in that fire. He got out somehow.”
There it was ... exactly what Julian dreaded. That had never even seemed like a possibility, and yet here it was, being thrown in his face.
“That's not possible.”
“Not possible?” Galen snapped. “Anything is possible these days. Hell, you came back from actual death.” He pushed more of the papers on the table around with his cane. “Davy was the man the Wharf Man was working with to try to get that pirate's gold. Davy was the problem that he tried to fix that got hi
m killed. Davy killed the Wharf Man.”
Oniel nodded in agreement, looking pleased that he was finally being understood.
Julian's mind was racing with theories and countermeasures that he never even remotely considered he would ever have to contemplate. “He was looking for gold ... he was trying to rebuild. After we took his fortune...”
Oniel nodded again.
Julian picked up the papers and crumpled them up in his hands. That fool, David Purdue, was still haunting him. He didn't let it show, but he felt a tinge of nervousness. So much of the respect and power he had cultivated within the Order of the Black Sun was thank to how he handled their secret society's greatest enemy. The defeat of David Purdue had blessed him with clout and status, and the unwavering loyalty of those within the order. It was proof that he would fulfill all of the promises he made about changing the Order of the Black Sun for the better. It was a key factor in his acceptance as the new leader.
The death of David Purdue was his greatest trophy.
If he really was alive—if this was all true—then all of that evaporated. He would look like a negligent fool and an incompetent leader. He worked too hard to let this take that all away.
This had to be rectified. It needed to be put right if that world he wanted so much was ever going to come to be. He couldn't let his enemies make a fool of him. He couldn't let them dare stand up to him or form any sort of resistance. He swore that he would purge the world of his enemies and now one of his greatest enemies had miraculously come back from the grave.
Worse yet, he was apparently planning on coming after them, biding his time as a dead man to secretly make preparations for war. David Purdue thought he had the upper hand, did he? He was wrong and his mistake would cost him dearly, even worse than it had before.
“So he thinks he's going to come after us? To take back what he lost? He'll be wishing that he burned in that fire.”
Julian had a habit of letting his anger erupt from his body. Lately, though, he had kept far calmer. Now, though, now that wrath was returning. Julian didn't care if Galen and this criminal saw him lose his temper.
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