The Vapor

by Nathan Parks

  “She has no idea,” Azrael stated as the cold night embraced the duo.

  “There is no way she can know. Are you sure you are wanting to go through with all of this? It is going to be like putting a thread through the eye of a needle . . . not much room for error or it will all come crumbling down on us.”

  Azrael watched as his breath could be seen in the cold. He didn’t know how to answer that question. Mantus was right; it was risky. He also wasn’t sure if he truly trusted Mantus, either.

  He did believe that the general had no desire for ultimate power; but again, like the other Overlords, Azrael couldn’t see how this would all play out. He felt that Hecate had already amassed too much power, and the only hope was to set the reset button—but who knew if that would actually transpire? It relied heavily on a lot of individuals trusting each other who had not done exactly that in ages.

  “What makes you believe you can trust me?”

  Mantus laughed, “If you believe I do, then you are more foolish than I ever imagined. I don’t trust you . . . not one bit. Now, you can trust this: I have my stop safes in place. You will never know what hit you if you attempt to go against me. I have my ways, and I have my allies. As long as we continue in the same direction, we will be good; but you deviate from anything we discussed after our little meeting in the desert, everything you have ever known will come crashing down on top of you.”

  “That is fair, and I would expect nothing less from you. Just when I thought you may be getting soft, you show me that you are still the same.”

  “Azrael, the fire of my home toughened me harder than you could ever fathom. I lost everything so long ago, and you know . . . never play roulette with someone who has nothing to lose and everything to gain.”

  They both shook hands and went their separate ways into the night.

  ◆◆◆

  Azrael sat in the back of the car as the driver drove them away. He was angry inside but also pleased. They could not have pulled off tonight any better.

  He thought back over the offer Mantus had given him over the phone after they had met at Zarius’ house. He knew that Mantus could sense that he had something up his sleeve that he was not revealing, but Mantus had taken a gamble.

  “Nothing to lose, Mantus?” he spoke out loud. “You are right; and you forget that, in reality, I also have nothing to lose.”

  He still had to find his brother. If Zarius still had possession of the Delta, then it would give him an ace with which to play.

  Mantus had proposed that instead of working against each other, they could work together toward a common goal of ensuring that Hecate did not take over control.

  She had played right into their hands by setting up a gathering. There was no way she could have known that Kadar was working with Mantus; so, once the invitation had gone out, her hand had been shown.

  Of course, it also revealed to him that Kadar was in Mantus’ pocket, and that also showed a little of the general’s hand. As far as he could tell, he was still the only one with hidden cards to play.

  His phone rang, and he looked down to see who was calling. He smiled. “Ah, speaking of aces in the hole!”

  He swiped and answered the call, “Yes?”

  “Not sure what information will be more beneficial for you,” the female voice on the other side of the phone stated. “She is in Austria.”

  “I already figured that. Do we know why?”

  “Not really. I’m sure you know that she was called there by Gerault.”

  “Yes, and I already took care of that. She should be walking in blind without him.”

  “I thought so, also; but it seems that someone provided her with a collection of notes from the old man that got her geared up.”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know. My sources tell me that there was an older gentleman that showed up with a journal of sorts.”

  He sat back for a moment and just thought. “Who would have that information? Who could have access . . .”

  His mind went back to the Council meeting for Leah. Images of Metatron throwing out a Watcher’s Journal onto the Council table came over him. No one had actually looked at the journal. Everyone had just expected that what Metatron was stating was the truth.

  “Well, I’ll be damned! Well-played, My Friend . . . well-played. That wasn’t Leah’s history at all. Gerault had a backup plan; and of course, he would go to you. He always trusted you more than anyone else.”

  “Are you still there?” the voice asked.

  “Sorry,” he responded. “I think I know who our mysterious savior is—something I am going to have to investigate more. What else do you have?”

  “Your brother is in Eden.”

  So, the wheels turn . . . and they turn fast! Had Zarius finally grown a pair? He would have never thought his brother would return. If he was in Eden, that meant that he was exposing himself; and if he was exposing himself, there would be only one reason: he had the Delta, and he was initiating his own safety plan in an attempt to keep Michael from getting it.

  “How long has he been there?”

  “About a day, I believe.”

  “Interesting. You did well. Can you head to Austria without drawing a lot of attention to yourself?”

  “I may be able to do that. Give me a bit to think of a way to twist it so that she doesn’t suspect anything.”

  “Do that, and then get back with me. I need to see if I can figure out a way to find out what my brother is up to and maybe give him a visit. We need to keep Mantus off our backs, also.”

  “I think I can do that. Kadar offered me a proposal to work with him and Mantus. I did not give him an answer, but I believe now would be a good time.”

  “Great . . . but, Denora . . .”

  “Yes?”

  “Don’t forget who you are working for, because I could start questioning if you aren’t working for yourself with all the brands you have in the fire. Remember what happens with that many brands.”

  “Oh, and what is that?”

  “You pull the wrong one out at the wrong time, and you get burned.”

  “Understood, Azrael . . . or should I say Michael? I have learned from some of the best manipulators in the field.”

  He ignored her sarcasm with the name. “I know you have, and sometimes that is what worries me the most.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Denora could hear Hecate’s screaming from down the hall. She smirked at the thought of what those in charge of cleaning up the dead two-headed monster were going through. She paused for a moment from outside the door, just listening at all of the commotion, and then opened the door and walked in.

  “I don’t care how heavy he is! You have no idea all the dangers that he has protected me from! He didn’t deserve this!”

  “Hecate?”

  She turned around and saw Denora standing behind her.

  “Do you see this? Kadar will beg for mercy when I get the chance to filet him with his own blade!”

  “I am so sorry,” Denora said with empathy oozing from her tongue. “He will deserve everything that you can do to him!”

  “Oh, he has no idea!”

  “Let me make this right, Dear! Let me handle Kadar.”

  “And how do you propose to do that? How does that satisfy the taste for revenge upon my tongue? Please, I pray . . . tell me that!”

  “Oh, I will let you have him, Hecate. Let me bring him to you.”

  “So, I let a lackey go after one of the best assassins that we have ever seen, and I am to believe that you can bring him to me.”

  Denora bit her tongue. She didn’t even wince as the blood from the bite trickled down her throat. Oh, how she wished she could pull the rug out from under this lady of diabolical charm to show her that her time had come and long fizzled out! She couldn’t though . . . not yet.

  “I am just offering.”

  “Fine, I don’t care. Go sacrifice yourself to him. I can always find another lover, anoth
er protégé.” She waved in Denora’s direction as if she was swooshing a fly that was annoying her.

  “I will keep you posted.” Denora exited quickly before she lost her cool and brought the whole castle of sand down around them. She hated Hecate with such fervor. She had spent the last five years strategically planning each move that had brought her into the trust of the Enchantress. When Denora had stated she had learned from the best, she had not lied; but now the student had become the star, and she loved it. The power of manipulation was just as intoxicating as the power for revenge, and she was tasting from both cisterns.

  She blamed Hecate for much of what had happened at The Vortex, as well as over the last several years. After everything had fallen apart, Hecate had begun to masterfully dismantle—many times from the inside out—the different Clans. She had played upon the weakness of Arioch and had Arioch believing that he no longer could trust Denora.

  Arioch accused Denora of not being strong enough, even after she had disposed of Alfonso. He had mocked her, stating that the old man was the only thing that she was able to take out and insinuating that if she had actually been half the lieutenant that he needed, she would have taken out more of the Alliance that night . . . or died trying.

  She was left with no Clan . . . no family. None of the other Houses would consider her because of her role in attempting a coup against Clan Adramelech. She was marked. Of course, when the time was right, Hecate had started courting her. She wasn’t stupid.

  She knew this had all been Hecate’s plan. She didn’t know it then, but as things began to take shape, Denora could see that she had been a pawn in a bigger scheme. She had started receiving word that the House of Hecate was secretly amassing Familiars but not asking any of them to swear allegiance to the House or even become marked with the Clan insignia.

  She had confronted Hecate, and that is when she started realizing that Hecate had bigger plans than just being the Overlord to her own House. She was looking for the top power over all the Clans. That moment is when Denora started strategically inserting herself within Hecate’s plan. The queen of seduction was so self-absorbed and looked at Denora with such disdain that she never saw the fox in the chicken coop.

  She was no one’s lackey anymore. Kadar did have words of wisdom when he challenged her to remember from where she came. Sure, she didn’t like him; but she could feel a sense of camaraderie with him. He and his kind were outcasts, and quickly she had found herself on the outside. The difference was she would find her way back in; and once they realized she was there, it would be too late. They all would understand, one day, that she was once the daughter of the Fallen. They never showed her mercy; and on that day, she would remember that with vengeance.

  She now had a trip to take.

  ◆◆◆

  She hated crowds, and the crowds at the airport had left her wanting to hit someone . . . then again, she almost always felt that way.

  “So, what do we do? Just knock on the door?” Isaiah asked.

  “Well, Preach, you are the former reverend here. I would think you just try the door; and if it is unlocked, you go in. I mean, it is a church, right?”

  Eve and Isaiah had landed earlier. Even after touching down, she had to talk him out of just getting back on a plane and heading home. She told him to at least go to the church and see what happened from there. Now, they both stood in front of St. Vincent. He tried the door and found it unlocked.

  “Of course, it would be,” he thought.

  They both walked into the foyer and stood at the back of the long, narrow auditorium.

  “Do you just yell out, and a priest appears?” Eve asked.

  “They are not genies, Eve,” he laughed.

  “I don’t know this stuff. I have never been about all this religious, power-hungry stuff. You know, there is an overpowering God who is waiting to strike you down if you get too many tattoos or enjoy too much carnal fun!”

  Isaiah shook his head. “Yeah, I get that . . . although I don’t buy into all that, either . . . didn’t when I was a preacher and still do not. There is a lot more to it.”

  “Oh . . . like say a magic prayer, and some religious guru appears to grant you answers?”

  “Yeah—no!”

  They didn’t stand there long before Tanisha entered from the other end. She had gotten annoyed hearing people upstairs. All she wanted to do was research and silently questioned if it was ok to lock the doors to the church. What would it hurt? Wasn’t like there was a priest or preacher here anymore!

  “Can I help you?” she asked.

  “Wow,” Eve said looking at Isaiah. “I guess we are looking for a priestess and not a priest!”

  “Excuse me?” Tanisha questioned, clearly annoyed.

  Isaiah shot Eve a look and then introduced himself, “My name is Isaiah, and this is Eve. We were hoping to meet with the priest who is over this church.”

  “Are you friends of his?” she asked.

  Eve rolled her eyes. “Well, if we were, do you think we would have asked for ‘the priest’ . . . or maybe we would have used his actual name?”

  Tanisha was not having any of Eve’s sarcasm. She wasn’t in the mood nor did she have the time. “Well, since we clearly have left our ‘friendly pants’ at home, let me be blunt, also. Gerault, who was the priest here—oh, and a friend of mine—passed away a couple of days ago. So, sorry for your lack of timing, but I’m sure you aren’t looking for someone to show you the door that you just walked in.”

  Eve’s demeanor changed with Tanisha’s comeback. “Ohh, . . . I like her!” she thought.

  “I would say that I am sorry for my friend’s attitude; then again, if I did, she most likely would take it out on me. So, I won't; but I will say that I am very sorry for the loss of your friend. I guess you are right: if he is not here, then we don’t have any real reason to be here.”

  Secretly Isaiah was thrilled. He could at least say that he tried, found nothing, and then returned home. He turned to leave; but as he did, he could feel the firm grasp of Eve’s hand on his arm.

  “Actually, I’m not sure how good a friend he was and not even sure if any of what I am about to say makes sense; but you know, I personally don’t care.” She turned Isaiah back around. “My friend here used to be a priest.”

  “A preacher,” Isaiah retorted.

  “Ok, whatever it is. My point is that we have a mutual friend that also passed away, leaving my other, soon-not-to-be friend—if he keeps up the weak-kneed attitude—with a lot of papers, notes, and instructions.”

  Tanisha was not prepared for this bit of information. She stepped forward, clearly showing interest now. “Ok.”

  “Well, I will not let him go home until he figures out what they are all about and why he was instructed to come to see your former—now deceased—friend, Gerault, or whatever his name was . . . may he rest in peace.” She made an ill attempt of crossing herself.

  “What kind of papers?”

  Isaiah pulled off the backpack that he had been wearing and pulled out a pile of things that had been inside the box that Alfonso left him. “Honestly, I am not sure what any of it means. Like Eve said, no offense; but I’m not even sure I’m supposed to be showing you or anyone these things.”

  Tanisha walked over and looked at the leather journal, very similar to the one that Enoch had given her earlier. “Did you know your friend well—the one who gave these to you?”

  “He was like a father to me . . . so, yes,” Eve stated emotionless.

  “These belonged to a Watcher,” she whispered as her fingers traced the embossed Watcher symbol on the front of the journal.

  It was now Eve and Isaiah’s turn to be shocked.

  “You know about the Watchers?” Eve asked, her tone now friendlier and without the blatant sarcasm.

  “Yes, Gerault shared information with me about them. They are a secret organization meant to protect historical artifacts and accounts that deal with the world of the supernatural.”
>
  Neither of them knew what to say. They both felt as if they had walked into a weird reality show but right in the middle of it. They weren’t sure what had happened before, but now they were a part of it and were expected to understand it all.

  “So, do you know anything about these?”

  “I’m not really sure. This type of stuff is what I have worked on with him for years and is why I am even here right now. I just got here myself.”

  “Well, I guess we all are a little late to the show then!” Eve quipped. “I don’t believe in destiny, but I guess this could get someone questioning it.”

  “Don’t worry, I don’t either,” Tanisha stated, “but I do believe we all have a purpose; and if you call meeting that purpose in the right time and place ‘destiny,’ then I guess I can believe in that. Why don’t you both follow me? I do believe there is a reason we all are here right now, so maybe we should figure that out.”