by R. D. Brady
But Laney knew Henry’s offer was about more than that. What he’d been through at the hands of Flourent and Hugo had fundamentally changed him. Or maybe it was finding out who he really was that changed him. Probably both.
She watched him pour himself a cup of coffee across the room. There was an ease to him that had been missing before. Not having to hide who he was, having people around him who cared for him, and making it through that torture – somehow, combined, they seemed to have given him a new strength.
She glanced up as Jake walked in. Damn, he looked good. Charcoal grey suit, tailored to accentuate his broad shoulders with a pale blue shirt and navy tie, he made the banker look sexy. A brown leather messenger bag was slung over his shoulder.
Catching sight of her, Jake made his way over to her. He stopped in front of her, looking her over, from her alligator pumps to her fitted navy blue dress. He leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "Doc, you’re going to make it impossible for anyone to focus on Henry's speech."
She smiled, looking up into his eyes. "You look good, too."
Patrick walked over to them. "Good to see you, Jake."
Laney took a step away, but Jake put his arm around her, pulling her into his side. He extended his hand to Patrick. "You, too, Patrick. Where are the Nuninks?"
"They should be here in a few minutes. Jen's with them. A few academics wanted their impressions of some of the exhibits. "
Jake nodded, giving Laney a squeeze before releasing her. "There's something I need everyone to see before they arrive."
He pulled a tablet out of his bag, setting it on the table. Henry walked over to join them. A video was already queued up. Jake hit play.
The screen showed the warehouse where the artifacts were stored. “When’s this from?” Henry asked.
“Twenty minutes ago.” Jake’s tone was somber.
A feeling of dread settled in Laney’s stomach. The door at the end of the warehouse flew open. A security guard sailed through it, crashing into a crate and lying still. There was a blur of motion and then a man was standing at the far side of the screen.
Laney couldn’t tell much about him except that he had dark hair, mocha-colored skin, and he was in good shape. The man rifled through the open crates, before beginning to tear through the unopened ones.
His movements were incredibly fast. Her heart clenched. He was a Fallen. She glanced at Henry. Or maybe a nephilim.
Another blur entered the screen.
Startled, she looked at Jake. “There were two of them?”
Jake nodded. “They took out half the security force without raising an alarm. The other half of the force didn’t realize anything was wrong until the intruders were gone.”
“Are the men all right?” Henry asked.
“Yeah,” Jake said. “They were all unconscious, a couple of broken ribs, bones. But all alive.”
Thank God, Laney thought, her eyes still glued to the screen.
A dozen crates in, one of the thieves found what he was looking for. He pulled out a single folio. Tucking it into his side, he called to the other man and they sprinted from view.
Laney sat back, stunned. “They only took one. Why?”
Patrick leaned forward. “Jake, can you zoom in on the book?”
Jake shook his head. “No. I tried already. Picture’s too blurred to make anything out. Nothing comes up. I sent it to Danny to see if he could clean up the image.”
“Do we have any idea which book it was?” Henry asked.
Patrick frowned. “We can check the inventory, but I don’t think it was complete. But if Danny cleans up the picture enough, maybe we can match it to one of the photographs taken at the site.”
“There’s something else.” Jake rewound the recording, freezing it on the second intruder.
Laney stared at the face of the Fallen. The picture was blurred, but clear enough that she could make out the strong cheekbones, the prominent chin. “He looks familiar.”
“He should,” Jake said. “That’s Gerard Thompson, Sebastian Flourent’s personal assistant.”
Laney felt her jaw drop. She knew Gerard had worked for Flourent for years. His picture had been in the file they’d developed on Flourent. He’d bided his time, waiting until the library was uncovered. Just like Azazyel had done with Senator Kensington. And also like Azazyel, he was working in tandem with another superhuman.
While everyone was digesting that, Jake laid another shock before them. “And there’s something else. The bodies of Sebastian Flourent and Hugo Barton were discovered in an airport parking lot in Copenhagen an hour ago.”
“Any leads?” Henry asked.
“No. But they both died from broken necks. And all signs point to them being snapped by human hands.”
Laney’s eyes flew to Jake. “A broken neck?” She pictured Hugo’s neck. It had been huge and incredibly muscular. “No human could snap Hugo’s neck.”
“No,” Henry said quietly. “But a Fallen could.”
Laney looked at the time stamp on the screen. “There’s no way these two guys did that. There’s a third Fallen.”
“Which means we need to prepare,” Jake said.
“Prepare?” Patrick asked. “For what?”
"We have a new enemy,” Jake said.
Laney stared back at the screen. A chill swept through her. “More like three.”
CHAPTER 104
Laney walked next to Henry down the long hall leading to the Baird Auditorium. They were at the back of the procession. Nana was first, with Jen and Patrick following behind. Jake and Elena were already seated in the auditorium.
The excited murmur of the reporters drifted down the hall towards them.
Laney placed her hand on Henry’s arm. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
He looked down at her with a smile. “I’ve been hiding long enough, Laney. It’s time to step out into the light.”
“I’m proud to stand next to you.”
He patted her hand. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Together, they stepped through the curtain and walked up the three short steps to the stage. A stirring went through the crowd as they caught sight of Henry.
Laney squeezed his hand. The two of them took their spots next to the podium, Laney next to Henry, Jen next to Nana.
A dark-haired woman in her late fifties, wearing a stylish grey pantsuit, stepped to the mic. Almost immediately, the noise in the room ceased. “Good afternoon. I am Dr. Cynthia Prodgett, Director of the Natural Museum of Natural History. I have the pleasure today of introducing a man who you all know, but still needs an introduction.”
The crowd gave a small laugh, although Laney knew they weren’t yet in on the joke. “Here today to speak on behalf of the Shuar tribe about their incredible heritage, Mr. Henry Chandler, CEO of the Chandler Group.”
An audible gasp went through the audience. Cameras whirled, flashes blinded. Henry walked confidently to the podium, adjusting the mic to its tallest position, ignoring the stir his name had caused. He smiled.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I am here to speak to you about an extraordinary discovery.” He glanced at Nana. “Which belongs to an incredibly brave group of people. . .”
CHAPTER 105
The press conference had gone well. Henry had spoken with confidence, emotion, and compassion. The media loved him. He answered questions for an hour before calling an end to it. Now he stood up by the stage, a group of reporters surrounding him.
Laney watched from the back of the room, leaning against a wall, next to Jake and Elena. “Am I crazy or does he seem to be enjoying this?”
Jake smiled. “I think he actually is. But I’m not so sure about Jen.”
She looked at the press circle that had formed around Nana, and Jen. Jen looked like she was going to pounce on any reporter that got too close. Laney laughed. “I think Jen’s more comfortable in the middle of a forest than a media frenzy.”
As the words left her mouth, she watch
ed Jen cut off all further comment, escorting Nana and Julia out the back door of the room.
Patrick walked up, nodding at Elena and Jake. “Mind if I steal my niece for a little walk?”
Jake picked up Elena. “There’s some excellent cake back in the conference room. Want to try some?”
Elena grinned. “Yes, yes, yes.”
Laney watched the two of them walk off. Jake will be a good dad someday. She stirred at the thought, but at the same time, felt contentment at it. Of course, there was no way she was going to mention that thought to him any time soon.
Laney turned to her uncle with a smile. “Where shall we go?”
“The National Gallery of Art is just down the street.”
She linked arms with him. “Sounds perfect.”
Escaping the zoo the National Museum of Natural History had turned into, they wandered along Constitution Avenue amidst the commuters and tourists. Traffic zipped by, but they managed to dodge across the busy thoroughfare to the National Gallery of Art. Together, they strolled along the perimeter of the building.
Laney was glad Patrick had suggested the walk. They hadn’t had much time together since everything had happened, or even in the months before that. It was nice to spend some time, just the two of them. A light wind blew, gently sending the scent of his aftershave towards her. She smiled, comforted by the familiar scent.
Patrick reached over, covering his hand with hers. "Seems you've survived another adventure."
"So it seems," she agreed.
They walked on silently. Laney enjoyed the quiet, the warmth of the sun. She looked over at her uncle and realized he wasn’t enjoying the peace quite as much as she was. The crinkle she knew so well had appeared between his eyes. "Uncle Patrick? What's the matter?"
He patted her hand and gestured towards a bench a few feet away. "Why don't we sit?"
Laney sat down and turned towards her uncle, waiting.
He stayed quiet for a few moments, watching the people go by, before turning towards her. Worry was stamped across his face. "Do you realize you have been in two life threatening scenarios in the last year?"
She grinned. "Well, they were rather memorable, so yes."
He gave a small laugh. "What I meant to say was, do you realize that both events seem to revolve around you? Two Atlantis-related sites were discovered on two different continents, after being hidden for thousands of years. And you’re the one constant between them."
She shook her head. "That's not right. Henry, Jake, you, me, even Yoni were part of both."
He nodded, his voice patient. "Yes. But we never would have been involved in Ecuador if not for you. And Montana, you were the central fixture pulling all of us together. For some reason, these ancient sites are seeing the light of day and you seem to be the only factor in common between them."
Laney sat back in surprise. She'd never thought of it that way. In Montana, she'd been pulled in by Drew. But then she’d been the catalyst that helped find the stone. In Ecuador, with Jen's help, she'd found the library. And in both situations, she’d barely escaped death. But that had to be a coincidence, right?
Reading her face, her uncle answered her unasked question. "It can't be a coincidence. The past, for some reason, is coming to light. And you’re smack-dab in the middle of it."
She took his hand. "Well, be that as it may, I’m fine. I'm here, unharmed."
He squeezed her hand, his eyes now somehow looking even more concerned. "Yes. So far you've been fine. I'm worried, though, about what comes next. Because whatever has started, I don't think it's over yet."
EPILOGUE
Victoria smiled watching the recording of the press conference from the study of her Vermont estate. Henry presented his argument rationally and without embellishment. The audience hung on his every word. Her son was an impressive man.
At the end of the conference, he stepped back. He glanced down at Laney. For a moment, they shared a smile. Victoria froze the screen. Her heart ached at the sight.
Pushing herself off the settee, she walked across the dark wood floors, before her feet sank into the deep Persian rug that covered most of the room. She pulled an old teak box from the third row of one of the bookcases built into the far wall.
Cradling the box to her chest, she walked back across the room. She paused at the large bay window, looking out at the rose garden beyond. A riot of yellow, peach, pink, red, and white petals looked back at her, all in full bloom. It always amazed her how they all seemed to bloom at the same time, coming together for a few weeks of glory.
She felt a heaviness in her chest, in spite of the magnificent sight. Other threads were coming together now as well. The libraries. The Council. The Belial treasures. And the three, Henry, Laney and Jake.
Turning from the window, she lowered herself to the settee, pulling the box into her lap. Gingerly, she opened the lid. Two baby pictures lay on top. She traced the outline of each little face before placing them aside. Gently placing two locks of hair tied with ribbon next to them, she rustled through the remaining papers. Towards the bottom, she found the old picture.
She placed the box on the side table and held the picture in her hand. Henry and Laney stared back at her, huge grins on their faces. Henry had been eight, Laney no more than three. But the affection between the two was undeniable, even through the old photo.
When she’d learned that Laney and Henry had been re-introduced, she was surprised Henry hadn't remembered. Victoria had arranged to run into Laney’s family at a park. Laney and Henry had clicked right away. They’d spent hours playing together. It was undeniably one of Victoria’s happiest memories.
She stared at Laney's face. Giant green eyes dominated her pale face, her red hair pulled back into two pigtails high on her head. The grin on her face was ear to ear, as she hugged Henry around the neck. She hadn’t changed.
With shaking hands, Victoria placed everything back in the box. Except the picture. She propped it against the box.
Curling her feet under her, she stared through the window once again, but this time she only saw the past. She’d sacrificed so much and still more was demanded. When would she have paid enough? When would she be freed?
She shook her head to clear the thoughts. Those thoughts wouldn't help now. She knew better than most that fate wouldn’t be denied. And fate had pulled everyone and everything back together.
She'd seen the signs. She knew the time was drawing close. And now the Fallen had the book.
Her gaze fell on Laney. She’d hoped she would be spared. She’d done everything in her power to keep this burden from her. Once again, Victoria had come up short. She closed her eyes, feeling the pain of what was to come.
Now it was her time to step out of the shadows. Her eyes were drawn back to the picture that lay on top of the box. Her children were going to need her.
AUTHOR'S NOTE
Thank you for reading The Belial Library. I hope you enjoyed it. The Belial Library was a joy to write, and the follow-up, The Belial Ring, is just as much, if not more, fun. I’m hoping to have it out for early summer 2014. Now let me tell you a little bit about where the idea for The Belial Library originated.
Years ago, I heard about the tunnel system underneath Ecuador. It fascinated me. I pictured these long dark tunnels, ancient people walking through them, hiding in them, storing their treasures in them, and viewing them as pathways to the underworld.
Then one day, I saw a documentary about an Ecuadorian man who, when he was a teenager, found a cave only accessed through a river. In the cave, he saw incredible artifacts, sheets of gold engraved with symbols, and an alcove filled with metal books. Decades later, he was supposed to be part of an expedition to find the cave but he passed away before the expedition could happen.
That man’s story stayed with me for close to ten years. When I started thinking about the follow up to The Belial Stone, I knew that the underwater cave had to be part of it. And reviewers expressed a strong interest in findin
g out more about Henry. Put them together, and The Belial Library was born.
You might also notice a few of the breadcrumbs dropped about future books in the series. Some of the future story lines have literally been in my mind for years, so I’ve been dropping little hints along the way. I hope they’re making you curious.
And even though I’ve been writing for years, I am still a new writer. As such, reviews are critical for providing me feedback about what readers like and don’t and for helping other readers discover The Belial Series. Reviews are one of the biggest factors in determining whether or not a potential reader even glances at a book description.
So if you have the time, I would really appreciate if you could write a review for The Belial Library, good, bad, or somewhere in between. I read all reviews and hopefully, your review will help others decide if The Belial Series is right for them.
If you have any questions or would like to hear about upcoming publications, please contact me at [email protected]. I’d love to hear from you.
Thanks again for reading.
Take care,
R.D.
FACT OR FICTION?
Whenever I read a book like The Belial Library, I always wonder what’s real and what’s the product of the author’s imagination. As was the case with The Belial Stone, the ideas for The Belial Library were drawn from a lot of different sources in the fields of history, religion, and archaeology. So here are some answers to what was real and what wasn’t.
Edgar Cayce. All books in The Belial Series involve the work of Edgar Cayce. Cayce was a twentieth century psychic. He did both medical readings, where he diagnosed people’s illnesses as well as past life readings. His medical readings had an 86 percent accuracy rating. Which always make me wonder, if he did such a good job with those readings, is it possible he did as good a job with his past life readings as well?