by Ariana Kenny
Chapter 14: Sabian
I had tried to contact Rachael and Sam from my home phone all morning. Once I had torn the car apart Saturday afternoon after dropping Rachael off I had realised that it was a lost cause. I had rung myself, pulled up seats, searched every crevasse, and decided to call it. My phone along with any and all contacts were gone. After calling the phone company and ordering a replacement (even I wasn’t going to bother my PA on a Saturday for something I was quite capable of doing myself), I called information and asked for the Book and Candle. I jotted down Armada’s number and called him. There had been no answer, which was unusual for him, given he lived and worked in the same place and rarely strayed too far. After the third attempt, I had gone down to pay him a visit, try and sure up a time for us, Rachael and I, to have a session the next day.
I had peered through the cracks of the curtains shielding the inside view from the outside street, but hadn’t seen more than a couple of candles flitting inside. It was strange I thought to myself, that he would leave candles burning unattended, but then it wasn’t as if he didn’t know what he was doing. Besides, once he didn’t answer to my knocking, it occurred to me that maybe he was busy entertaining. The man had to have a separate social life, surely.
I had reluctantly removed myself from his front door, deciding that the morning might be a better time to pick up where my harassment was ending tonight, and I didn’t want to push to hard and come up against resistance.
That brought me to this morning. I willed the clock to tick over to 8:00, that was late enough to call, and found his number on the scrap of paper by the phone again. Before I managed to dial however, the phone rang in my hand. The Art dealer.
“Monsignor Pict.” The heavy accented voice announced. “I have news.”
“Good, any news is good right now.” I said relieved.
“I would say so - it is a rare artefact. I am happy to offer you $200,000 right now.”
“No, I’m not interested in selling. What is it?”
“A containment box, designed around the year 900AD to hold specific spirits and entities safe and sound. One jab to the back of the neck of a possessed person with the Stiletto, and the spirit would be sucked into the box, leaving a soulless, and lifeless corpse behind.” Just like that. I had a new churning in my gut, one that hadn’t been there before. I leaned against the wall wearing a confused look on my brow. “How about $300,000, not for sale, I would like to keep it.” Came the new offer.
“No. I need it back.” I said clearly. “Thank you for calling.”
“A pleasure, very much. I send the box back to you today by courier…If you change your mind you have my number.” He added before hanging up the phone.
I had a renewed urgency to contact Armada now. To speak with Rachael and Sam, but not a moment after I hung up from the call with the dealer, the phone rang in my hand again. The police this time. They had taken my number, along with several others, from the telephone service of the last people who contacted Armada – before he died. I sat rapidly as though weighed down at the news. They wanted to speak with me, have me come down to the station and give a statement. I agreed, in a haze, and followed the instruction without question. Selfishly I thought to myself, I was sorry for him, but more so for the fact I felt we had lost a legitimate link to Rachael being able to make headway in understanding what was going on for her.
At the police station, I admitted having visited him in an occult/physic fashion, paying for services (all true) and that I had been calling trying to set up an appointment. The officer interviewing me knew my name from the other recent case file Sam had been allocated from the break and enter, and explained another detective was in charge. I neither confirmed nor denied, just complied, gave my statement and left as soon as possible. There was another lady in a bright purple dress with a rat type thing they were calling dogs lately shivering in her carry bag as she wept onto an officer’s begrudgingly supplied shoulder. Another, small weedy white teen with multiple piercing and a black attitude to match the black leather, and yet another older skinny man with a balding head and glasses. All were explaining their relationship to ‘the deceased’ as he now came to be known – beloved physic, esoteric book supplier (and all round cool dude), and magic herb supplier for true love and hair restoration. Seemed Armada was a man of many talents. Before leaving I asked what exactly had happened, and the obliging officer explained that, while it appeared the place had caught alight from a fallen candle I shuddered. I had been knocking on the door, peering through at the flickering candles only a few hours earlier. Maybe I should have knocked harder.
The officer went on to explain there were circumstances they were exploring however that may indicate that something else had happened, however at this time, they were not supplying additional information. There was another wail from the woman with the dog and the dog shot me a look I could only imagine mirrored my own ‘this woman is ridiculous’ look.
The first place I went of course was the apartment Rachael was in, but when I knocked there was no answer. Damn it. She and Sam were probably off gallivanting in another park somewhere while I was trying to focus on serious issues. I left to have lunch, and called to leave another message, not that I was even sure she was checking messages. Finally I got a call back.
“Rachael.” I sighed relieved to hear her voice on the other end of the phone. “I was getting worried.”
“Don’t worry – all’s good.” She said in a sing song voice. “What’s new Sabian, when am I going to see you again?”
“I can come over now.” I responded immediately
“I’m kind of in the middle of something right this second.” Rachael hesitated. “Tomorrow?”
“Rachael.” I started serious. She sounded so happy, at a time when things were going horribly wrong. I had to let her know in case there had been foul play. Maybe she had been tracked to Armada’s and someone had killed him for the association. That meant they might be closer than we thought and able to track her in ways other than when she expended energy in fighting or …stopping cars, and anything else she might be able to do we weren’t yet aware of. “Rachael” I repeated. “Armada’s dead. I think someone killed him.”
There was silence for a moment. “What makes you think that?” Odd question to ask.
“The police interviewed me.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know much, just they are looking at it as suspicious, the place was burned.”
“That’s terrible.” Rachael mused. She must be processing it. “Come around in the morning, and we can talk about it.”
A stunned silence had reached me when she brushed me off and I heard the click of the phone. Maybe it was too much to register for her. I knew it bothered the hell out of me. Regardless, I settled into another night of rich scotch and second rate TV. The Last Exorcist was showing on ‘On Demand’ TV and I let my mind be distracted by the gore and dark lighting as I sat there trying not to complicate my thoughts further. Maybe that wasn’t the best choice of things to watch. I fell asleep, right there on the couch, a slumber I was grateful for even if my neck hurt like hell when I woke up.
Swiftly, I dressed in jeans and a long sleeved polo, ready to meet with Rachael and try and get to the bottom of some of this mess, and at the very least, make a new plan of how we were going to move forward.
Almost as soon as I knocked she opened the door for me, though remained partially obscured by the door, I barely noticed as I strode straight in, eager to get on with the conversation and see what she had decided to do next.
“Rachael. I was worried.” I said spinning around to face her. I was left open mouthed at what I saw. Standing in the place of my usually quiet demeanoured Rachael, stood a different looking Amazon-esque woman. Rachael was wearing tight black pants, lace up black boots with a heel that made her almost tower over me, and her hair was slicked back slightly against her skull causing the ends to flick out in a way the ebony
strands managed to frame her neck and pale face perfectly. Her blood red shirt neckline draped so low that it almost caused me to look away for a moment – as if I could.
“What are you wearing?” I managed to fumble trying not to sound too shocked or accusatory.
“I needed a change.” Rachael dismissed and walked towards me. “Let me help you out Sabian” She started talking again and pulled on the jacket I was wearing until it complied and fell off. She sauntered over to the rack and hung it casually as I was left frozen, watching her curves rock as she moved. “Sit down,” She asked of me. “and then we can talk properly.”
I continued to monitor her movements as she came over and lounged, feet up on the white material, looking more like a satisfied cat than the usual person I knew. Her movements were more fluid, her expressions more focused, and her attitude so much more confident.
“Are….are you alright Rachael…..You seem different.” I waited for her response, but all she did was lean towards me and wink.
“I had a great weekend.” Rachael replied, but my uneasiness grew.
“So glad someone did. I was worried, after Armada died….I didn’t know where to begin next.”
“Well, I think I had a revelation.” She offered. “I think the answers we need are in that box you took. Where is it Sabian? Where is the box?”
“I sent it to a specialist.” A nerve ticked under her eye. Her expression turned to something else just for a millisecond. I looked around suddenly aware Sam wasn’t with us. I had expected him to want to talk over the next thing to do, the next avenue to take. I had welcomed the opportunity to have someone else in on all of this, especially a detective. That could have been useful. “Hey, where’s Sam?”
Rachael remained unmoving. “At work, why? You miss him already? I thought you didn’t quite like him…hanging around me.?” She played with her collar now.
“Work.” I mused.
“I hear some people are in to it.” She said snidely.
I smirked, relaxing. I had been so on edge for so long, clearly I was letting it get the best of me, a change of outfit, a new hairstyle and a confident attitude was all it had taken to shake me. Ridiculous. “I thought he would want to know.” I said easing back into my seat.
She got up and walked the short step to sit next to me. “That’s nice of you.” She smiled pleasantly enough and repositioned herself to perch on her knees towering a little over the top of me. “I am really glad you two are getting along.”
“Now he knows, understands….that’s all I needed to …” I trailed off as she leaned forward and kissed my forehead slowly. I looked up as she knelt back down.
“You are a real gem Sabian.”
“A gem.” I repeated. I hadn’t heard anyone say that since my mother.
“Yep. So I need to be honest, because, Sam’s great and all, but you…..well, you I trust Sabian.”
“OK.”
“So I have to tell you that I’m sorry. I lied to you.” I explored her face looking for a clue as to what she might say next. She gave a look of dramatic unease, and I grew nervous again. “I have been having flashes since we saw Armada the other night.”
“Really – of what?”
“When I got this ring,” She twisted it on her finger. “My friend saying to me she bought it just for me, to remind me who I was now and would forever be.” She sat back further on her haunches. “I also remember Uther, tying me to a chair while he kept poor Jonah in a glass cage. I remember Uther holding that box I need.”
“Why do you think he had it?” I asked.
“I think he thought he could kill me. I think if I hold it again, I’ll know. Where is it and we can go get it, together.” She urged me.
“But what do you think the box does?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.” The way she said it chilled me. So sickly sweet. Bile rose in my throat and every ounce of me burned to tell her that I already new, but I had that feeling again. The feeling that something was horribly wrong here. “So Where is it.” She pressed again.
“An Art dealer on Smith Street. He specialises in things of occult value. I thought he might be able to give us a little more history.”
“Excellent idea.” She smiled and I fought the urge to feel pleasure at her response, to fold and tell her more. “We can go there now if you want.” I was testing her. “Maybe we should ask Sam to come as well.” She stiffened.
“I thought it would just be you and I Sab.” I tensed at her use of my name that way. It made my blood pound out of habit.
“OK.” Shit. I have to call Sam right now.
“But first, I have some girly stuff you attend to – you know. Then maybe we could meet up and have lunch before we go.” I didn’t believe her, not even for a second, but I played anyway and smiled just as sweetly back at her.
“The Loft Café. Say midday?” I stood as she nodded in agreement. “Great,” I breathed and turned to leave. And I couldn’t get out fast enough. As I reached for the handle though, she stepped in front of me, her hip knocking my hand out of the way.
“Sabian.” She said looking up at me with deep dark eyes. Her pupils were almost completely blended with her irises.
“Yes Rachael.” I said with great effort to keep my voice steady and firm.
“I love you like family you know.” My breathing was heavier, but I fought to control it.
“Rachael.” She put her hands up to my face.
“Just don’t hurt me OK?” She asked. I was confused. Here she was again. Sweet Rachael. I nodded dumbly. Lifting her chin, she kissed my cheek then moved out of the doorway. I opened the door and moved through the doorway and heard her call from behind me: “See you in a couple of hours.”
I turned on my heel but kept walking. “See you there.” I affirmed before resuming my step. I had to speak with Sam. Now.
When I reached the ground floor I had already dialed his number. No answer. I called the station he worked from. The man on reception Gary-something told me that he wasn’t able to tell me if Sam was there, and asked me to leave a message. I snapped my new handset shut swearing. Getting into my car, I was resolute. I had to find out where he was. That would make my mind up – if he was fine, I was overreacting; if he wasn’t….
I went to the station. After demanding to see him and being told to sit and wait and see, I was twitching my leg up and down in anticipation in no time. Finally, someone came out, ushered me in to a room and my heart slowed in a new kind of anticipation.
The door opened behind me and I didn’t look around. I didn’t want the bad news.
“What are you doing here!” Sam’s voice. He was horrified and angry at me, but he was alive. I breathed a huge sigh of relief.
“You would be surprised, but I am so glad you’re here. I thought I had been completely wrong.” I debriefed. “Sam – I think something might be wrong though.”
“What do you mean? I can’t talk now, I’m in the middle of something.”
“Working.”
“Sounds surprising Sabian, but yes…..working – or trying to at least. What did you think?”
“Where have you been?” I pressed. “I wouldn’t have come if you had answered your phone.”
Sam shook his head. “Are you kidding? What are you my mother all of a sudden? I’m busy – get out, call me later about whatever it is.”
“But…” I protested.
“Some of us have to keep up the rest of their life Sabian. Go home, chill out and I’ll call you when I get off shift.” With a flurry of frustration, Sam left the room, and the door open for me to leave by.