Angel of Distrust

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Angel of Distrust Page 13

by Tabitha Barret


  The music was getting louder as the vehicle was finally within view. The narrow sidewalks were nearly impassible, but something told him to keep moving. He laughed when he thought that he might be sensing Lady Black nearby. He wasn’t a bloodhound and he had no real connection to Lady Black to speak of. He was probably sensing some kind of evil or perhaps he was being summoned by a lower creature, though it was unlikely. He possessed no superpowers aside from his desire to punish the wicked. Shoving his way through the throngs of spectators, he found himself walled in by the mortals waving like lunatics at the vehicle.

  He gave up trying to move and watched a small pickup truck slowly coming toward him. The people in front of him fell to their knees and bowed their heads to the ground. It was unusual behavior for a political figure or even a prince or princess, but he knew nothing about the local customs. Craning his neck to see what all the fuss was about, he saw a young man sitting in the back of the truck bed waving to the crowds. He was dressed simply in pale yellow and orange robes, similar to a Buddhist monk or other holy man in a warm climate. He couldn’t see anything interesting about the man aside from the rosary beads in his hand. He had a calm expression and a pleasant smile, but there was nothing remarkable about him.

  Hades raised his eyebrow at the people who were praying and muttering under their breath. It was strange that they would look to such a man. People usually worshipped celebrities and sports figures, based on what he had learned from the prisoners in the last few decades.

  Deciding that he’d had enough of the show, he turned to leave.

  A soft voice was heard above the chanting and praying of the kneeling mortals. The brakes of the truck squealed and the people in the immediate area gasped and chanted louder. Hades looked over his shoulder at a group of men who were helping the young man down off the truck. He watched the reactions of the crowd and gathered that the cleric didn’t usually step down off his chariot to address the masses.

  His curiosity got the better of him and he waited with his arms crossed to see what would happen. Watching the cleric walk toward the sidewalk, he saw how the people raised their hands to him, hoping to be touched or blessed or something. The cleric nodded to them and acknowledged them individually, but didn’t speak to them. Instead, he walked directly toward Hades.

  Hades was stunned. He looked down at his clothing to make sure that he had changed out of his soot-covered suit and into clothing appropriate for the climate and era. His tan pants and red short-sleeved shirt with a collar was a tad dressier than most of the mortal’s clothing around him, but he wasn’t completely out of place. Even his black sunglasses were modern since he had “borrowed” them from a man sleeping on a porch. Why had the cleric taken an interest in him?

  The man slowly approached him and smiled. The woman standing next to them was in hysterics as she frantically fanned her face. Hades was afraid she would pass out.

  “Will he speak?” two men nearby whispered at the same time as others tried to hush the crowd. It seemed that it was indeed an honor to be spoken to by this holy man.

  Hades pulled his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose and bowed slightly to the man, lest he be dragged through the streets for not acknowledging a man of importance. Then again, this wasn’t the 16th century.

  The young man looked him up and down before his eyes rested on Hades’ face.

  Hades waited patiently for something to happen. He thought about being rude, as was his nature, but something stopped him. Perhaps, it was the man’s kind eyes or his calm demeanor, but he couldn’t be cruel to him.

  The cleric finally held out his hand to Hades. The gesture alone caused the woman next to him to faint.

  Hades looked at the outstretched hand and contemplated it. It could be a trick. He wondered how many knives were stuffed into the young man’s long draping robes. Balthazar could hide a bazooka under all that cloth.

  “It has been a long time, my faithful,” the cleric said softly.

  Three more people passed out when the cleric spoke. Hades smirked and immediately realized that the cleric was crazy. He turned on his heel and prepared to toss people out of his way to get back to his mission.

  “You have endured much over the centuries. I often wonder how you have managed to survive in that place without someone strong by your side,” the cleric said to Hades’ back.

  Hades whipped around and tore off his sunglasses. Who the fuck did this man think he was speaking to? He would turn him into cinder for this act of mockery. He wondered if duels were still in vogue.

  “What did you say to me?” Hades snarled.

  Six men and three women put their hands on Hades’ arms and shoulders imploring him to lower his voice and show respect.

  “He speaks the word of God,” a man with a Pokémon shirt whispered loudly.

  Hades stared incredulously at the man with the strange shirt. The word of God, indeed. This certainly wasn’t Gabriel in disguise, though he had been known to fool a number of people when he moonlighted as a mortal.

  “I have met the one who speaks for God, and this isn’t him,” Hades snapped.

  The crowd turned ugly very quickly and booed and hissed at him. Perhaps being drawn and quartered was still a custom in this town. It seemed that he would quickly find out for himself.

  The cleric raised his hand and the crowd fell silent, sending a chill through Hades. The man held even more sway over these people than he realized. Perhaps, he had been sensing a creature of evil, such as a Veteres, or a false god.

  “Do not worry, he knows who I am, but it has been a long time since he has been in my presence,” the cleric replied.

  Hades was growing weary of this. He thought about disappearing and shocking the hell out of all of them, or better yet, releasing his black wings and becoming the scourge he knew himself to be.

  The cleric smiled at him. “You are searching for her, but she has her own path that she must follow. I regret the things that have come to pass, but we all have our lessons to learn,” he said quietly.

  A lump grew in Hades’ throat. Was this man legitimate? Was this Father in disguise?

  “Is she safe?” he blurted out, taking His out stretched hand.

  The cleric shrugged. “That is for her to decide. The more important question is why are you here? Your place is in the darkness.”

  Hades nearly cried when he accepted that he was standing in front of Father. He opened his mouth and tried to form an answer, but abruptly shut it. How could he explain that he had been hiding a Harpy for centuries?

  Father chuckled. “You have many secrets, as do we all, but that is not the question I am asking. Why have you left your post to find her when there are many who could search for her?”

  Hades gulped. He had forgotten how insightful Father could be. Unsure of how to tell Him the truth, Hades settled for a confused shrug.

  “My faithful servant, you already know the answer to my question inside your heart. You came here because you want to know if she could ever love you,” He winked. Father released Hades’ hand and tapped his chest over Hades’ heart. “The answer is here. All you have to do is search for it.” Father stepped away and nodded His head slightly.

  The crowd was enraptured by their conversation, but Hades hardly noticed. Father knew his darkest secret, the one that was worse than hiding a Harpy, and He was giving him the answer to a question that he dared not answer. Was he brave enough to search for the answer?

  He watched Father walk away as He touched the outstretched hands of the onlookers. Before Hades could stop himself, he blurted out his question. “Why are you here with these people?”

  Father turned his head and gazed at Hades. “I am here to give them hope. When all hope is lost, she will rise and I will weep. I must do everything within my power to inspire them to live good lives; otherwise, your job will be that much harder,” He said sadly.

  Tears sprang to Hades’ eyes. It had been almost a decade since he had last seen Father so it was eas
y to believe that He no longer cared for the mortals, especially with the number of souls in Hell growing by leaps and bounds. Father was fully aware that Lady Black had come into power and was actively working to keep her from unleashing her full power. It lightened his heart to know that Father still cared, but he worried even more about Lady Black and her destiny.

  He brushed the tears from his eyes and watched the parade continue down the street as Father waved to the crowds. His face was hopeful, but His eyes told the truth. Father was worried that He was losing the battle for the souls of the mortals. It seemed that an Apocalypse was imminent, as long as they found the Destroyer in one piece.

  Chapter 6

  Anjali felt guilty for choking Haydn until he was unconscious, but he had started this game. Her guilt quickly faded when she had to drag his heavy body through the long hallway and down the emergency stairs. He was a lot heavier than he looked. She smiled every time his head, arm, or leg hit against a wall or a step. He deserved everything that was happening to him.

  She grimaced when she admitted that they were both to blame for this. Yes, he certainly deserved her wrath for locking her in the bonds without a means of escape, but she should have been more understanding of his plight. With the punishing power of the bonds making her mind fuzzy, it had taken her a while to realize that Haydn had saved her from the ocean, which he was in no way obligated to do. He could have left her at the bottom of the ocean, but he had rescued her for some reason. If he truly wanted her dead, he could have killed her while she was unconscious. She couldn’t pass judgment on him without more evidence. She didn’t want to make the mistake of falsely condemning him to death as she had with Alazar, though forgiving Haydn was a lot harder after learning that he couldn’t free her from her bonds.

  After securing Haydn to a lounge chair on top of the diving board and tossing another dart frog under his shirt to keep him busy when he woke up, she had passed out for a while next to the pool. Upon waking, she made it her mission to find food and water.

  She pulled her newly acquired pink and black backpack over her shoulder and moved on to the next hotel room. Her furry companions dutifully followed her as she dropped sour cream and onion potato chip crumbs on the waterlogged blue and tan hallway carpet. She tossed a chip to Mopins, the Yorkie, according to her nametag, and promised Otto, the bulldog, that he could have the next treat.

  She ducked her head into the open rooms to rummage through whatever was left behind, but jumped back when she found that the roof had collapsed and crushed the bed and most of the furniture. Sadly, the occupant hadn’t made it out alive. She hated seeing the destruction that an earthquake and other natural events created, but it was important for her to witness it firsthand. When it was time to unleash her power, she would collapse the mortal cities and buildings with earthquakes and tidal waves. Everyone would lose their lives as the world crumbled.

  The old Destroyer, the person she was before her many lives as a mortal, relished the idea of destroying the world. Every time she saw a minor sin committed by a mortal, she wanted to obliterate the world. She didn’t have the experience needed to understand the difference between the varying degrees of sin. Granted, the old Destroyer was never taught properly, which Gabriel took responsibility for, but it was still disturbing to think that she and the old Destroyer were the same person. It was easier to believe that they were two separate people than to accept that she was ever that callous and out of control. She vaguely wondered what the old Destroyer would have thought of the destruction in New York City or Portland. The naïve girl probably would have been proud of what she had done rather than feel guilty about it.

  She wanted to bury the person laying under the debris, even though she wasn’t responsible for his death, but the sun was setting and she was close to depleting her energy again. She decided that if she were still on the island tomorrow, she would find a way to make a final resting place for the unfortunate mortal. Closing the door, she moved on to the next room.

  The room across the hall was still intact and full of personal belongings. It looked like the occupants were in the middle of packing when they had been forced to flee without their luggage. She dropped her backpack by the door and looked around for anything useful.

  She had already found enough food and water to last a couple of days and a pair of sneakers that fit, since she was forced to ditch her uncomfortable thigh-high boots. Thankfully, she had found a pair of sharp scissors and had been able to cut off the bottom half of her dress and her long sleeves. She was now sporting a cooler pair of khaki shorts and the upper half of her barely-there dress since she would never be able to put on a new shirt with her hands tied together. She had managed to find some safety pins to cinch together the long slit in the bodice to keep the sun off her chest. Her borrowed hair ties kept her messy bun in place and provided some relief for her sticky neck. She would be mortified if anyone saw her like this, but it was better than sweating to death.

  Searching through the luggage, she stopped when she heard a beeping noise. The power on this side of the hotel was out, but it must have been the last section to lose power because the water in the mini fridges was still cool. She followed the beeping noise and nearly shouted with joy when she found a cell phone. She jumped frantically up and down and showed Mopins and Otto the phone until she realized that the dogs had no idea what it was. Regardless, Otto wagged his stubby tail to show his approval.

  She sat on the empty corner of the bed and stared at the phone. She had seen cell phones over the years, but had never used one. They hadn’t been widely used during her life as a mortal. It was blinking red and showed a low battery photo. It took a few seconds to figure out how to turn it on and type in Uncle Bob’s number. She paused when she thought about what she would say to Gabriel. She still had no idea where she was. Frustrated, she almost threw the phone across the room, until she thought about how upset everyone must be. She should at least let them know she was okay and that she was battling Haydn.

  When the familiar dial tone filtered through her ears, she smiled a sad smile. It wasn’t exactly the lifeline she had hoped for but it was a start. Unsure of where she was, she decided to keep her message brief and avoid giving them a false sense of hope.

  A pleasant voice answered the phone and gave the usual cheerful greeting. “You’ve reached the answering service for R. B. Holdings. How can I help you?”

  She smiled when she heard the familiar voice. She had no idea who the person was, but it was the same phone number Gabriel had given to Derick, Liam, and Dylan when he acted as a friend to their families. She assumed the Calin had used the service before Gabriel had given up on him.

  “Yes. Please tell Uncle Bob that I’m ok. He’ll know who this is. Tell him that I’m stuck, but I’ll find a way out. I just want him to know that I’m safe. Tell him that I don’t have any directions, but I’ll make do. Oh, and tell him that I’m not alone and not to trust anyone,” Anjali said, hoping that he would understand her coded message.

  “Yes, miss. I will give him the message when he calls in. He’s checked in a few times to see if you’ve called. He has a message for you as well. They are searching for you and will not give up,” the operator replied.

  Tears came to her eyes when she heard the message. Gabriel was looking for her. She knew he would be, but it made her feel better to hear it. “Thank you,” Anjali said before ending the call.

  She wiped the tears from her eyes and tossed the phone on the bed since it wouldn’t help her without a way to keep it powered.

  She felt loved when she thought about her father searching every inch of the planet for her. She wasn’t sure why he felt it was important to say that he wouldn’t give up, but it brightened her outlook.

  Even with Gabriel searching for her, her best means of leaving the island was Haydn. She wasn’t sure if she should kill him with kindness or torture him until he surrendered. Either way, she needed a plan.

  Blinking a few times, Haydn shook his he
ad, trying to wake up from his dream of being on fire. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the bright sunlight from the insides of his eyelids. He reached up to shade his eyes, but couldn’t move his hands. Panic spread through him when he realized that he couldn’t move any part of his body except for his head.

  He opened his eyes and gasped. He saw that he was tied to a lounge chair that was precariously perched on the diving board of the exterior pool. He screamed when he realized that he wasn’t on fire, but was suffering the effects of being poisoned again. The pain was slightly less excruciating than the last time, which meant he had been unconscious for a long time since being poisoned. The woman certainly knew how to piss someone off. If he tried to escape from the chair, he and the chair would fall into the water and be dragged under. He respected her plan of drowning him while he suffered from the effects of the poison, but he had nothing to offer her, so they were both in trouble.

  Craning his neck around to search for the despicable woman, he found her eating from a can of tuna. She was sitting in the shade on a tall bar stool in front of a guest table used for drinks. Her furry helpers were sitting at her feet waiting for her to drop some food. He had to give her credit. He never expected her to distract him with her furry minions.

  “Your pets seem happy. Can’t you order them to end the world?” he said through his gritted teeth.

  She looked at him, surprised to see that he was awake. “While I have a soft spot for dogs, they didn’t volunteer to start an Apocalypse, you did,” she smiled sweetly.

  “I volunteered to do what I thought was right. Obviously, I made the wrong choice,” he declared. He clenched his jaw and fists, trying to breathe through the pain.

  He watched her slowly take another bite of the tuna, savoring every morsel. He remembered the devastating hunger that came with being bound. Given the choice, he would rather be bound in Celestial Bonds starving than suffering from the crippling poison.

 

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