Man (Seven Forbidden Arts Book 9)

Home > Other > Man (Seven Forbidden Arts Book 9) > Page 22
Man (Seven Forbidden Arts Book 9) Page 22

by Charmaine Pauls


  Cupping a hand over the microphone in his ear to block out the noise, he dialed Josselin from his wrist pad. “It’s time. Are you in place?”

  Josselin’s voice came tightly over the line. “We’re waiting outside the monastery.”

  “Olivia is with you?”

  “As promised.”

  “Good. Be ready.”

  At twelve on the dot, his wrist pad pinged with an incoming message from Godfrey. Life ground to a standstill. Noises and faces faded.

  He activated the visual. “I’m here. Let them go. The children first and then the women.”

  “Not so fast. They’ll go when you’ve met your end of the bargain. Do you see the stage? The organizer is waiting for you. I’m watching. Start walking.”

  Cain moved toward the raised platform, pushing people out of his way as he went.

  “Good,” Godfrey cooed. “Now, get on it.”

  The crowd fell silent as he mounted the stairs to the top. The whistles stopped blowing. Only the strangely out-of-place birdsong of a Hadeda continued as he looked down at the sea of vengeful faces.

  Godfrey continued to speak through the microphone. “Confess your sins to the crowd. Say after me. I, Cain Jones, have committed sins against humanity by using paranormal forces and hiding their existence from mankind.”

  Around him, the mob started picking up their stones.

  Chapter 15

  Pain lanced in Cain’s calf, followed by a thud as the stone hit the wooden platform and rolled off the stage. Bloodthirsty faces swam below him. Arms were raised, hands clutching rocks as heavy as the bearer could throw. Public stoning was a barbaric tradition, but one the incited masses fell back onto when unexplainable events provoked fear. Pandemonium was always a result of the end of things as we knew it.

  “Say the words,” Godfrey insisted, supreme satisfaction shining in his eyes.

  Betraying himself was a bitter pill to swallow, but not as bitter as the massacre that would result at his refusal. The truth might go with him to his grave, but there were always the handful of people who knew. History might not be rewritten to clear his name, but he’d take this fall for the team, as agreed with his sponsors. The violent unrest he was about to suffer would be the ammunition the government needed to clamp down on the Medusa Movement and snuff it out for good. Godfrey would die quietly by assassination if not at the hands of his team. Cain’s alliances had assured him they wouldn’t stop until they’d succeeded. They’d finish what he’d started, no matter how long it took. Peace would prevail. As politics went, no one except for his team would know what had really happened. In history books, he’d be depicted as the villain, but he was only the pawn, the first of maybe many that had to be sacrificed.

  A stone zinged through the air, hitting him on the side of his head. A bolt of pain vibrated through his skull. Ignoring the trickle of blood that ran down his temple and dripped onto the white of his jacket, he opened his mouth.

  The organizer held up a hand. “Let him speak. Let us hear him confess.” He jabbed Cain between the shoulder blades with the megaphone. “Speak! Speak the truth!”

  Cain waited.

  “Give them what they want,” Godfrey said. “I’m letting your paranormal bastards go.”

  Still, he waited.

  “We’ve got them,” Josselin said, his voice filled with relief and the adrenalin-infused stress of fighting Cain knew only too well.

  “Everyone?” Cain asked.

  “Everyone,” Josselin confirmed.

  “Unharmed?”

  “Yes.”

  The fight wasn’t over, but it was out of his hands, now. The rest was up to his team. As for the words Godfrey had demanded, it didn’t matter what he said. The crowd expected retribution. They wanted payback for the mangled bodies that littered their streets. They wanted violence. An eye for an eye.

  “Do it, Jones, before my guards engage in a bloody battle with your team.”

  So be it. He took a strengthening breath. “I, Cain Jones––”

  The flicker of a hologram in the space in front of the stage caused an outcry in the crowd. The picture seemed to put itself together, pixel by pixel. People parted like water around the visual, cries of confusion and terror filling the thin winter sky. A giant image came to life with cunning clarity. Godfrey materialized in front of a floor to ceiling aquarium filled with jellyfish. Next to him stood Sky.

  “Is this your plan?” Sky asked. “Worldwide silent invasion?”

  When Sky’s words droned out the frightened gasps, a hushed tenseness fell over the crowd. They stared at the hologram with transfixed faces, fear edged in their expressions.

  “Only the strongest have the right to survive,” Godfrey replied. “We need to get rid of the lesser species who serve no purpose other than to diminish our resources. The human race multiplies like rabbits with no regard for the future of their planet or the survival of their own species.”

  Outrage spread through the sea of bodies, jumping like a flame from person to person until every fist was raised at the man in the image.

  “When Jones and his team are dead, nothing will stand in the way of my victory,” Godfrey continued.

  “He cheated us,” someone cried.

  “Liar!”

  “Betrayer!”

  Rocks directed at the hollow image flew through the air, falling uselessly to the ground.

  “Find him! Kill him!”

  It was like staring at a horrific painting in which the subjects clawed and crawled over each other to get to Godfrey’s guards who patrolled the perimeter of the square. Conveniently, there was no police presence. Cain’s sponsors wanted the violence to unfold undisturbed so they had reason to squash the Medusa mob. The absence of law enforcement left Godfrey’s men to the mercy of the storming crowd as they demanded vengeance. Some of the guards managed to fire a few shots. Protesters stumbled and fell, their advance brutally stopped by the bullets. It didn’t take long before the stones that were meant for Cain brought down the armed men.

  Climbing down the stage, Cain fought his way through the stampeding mass. The visual of Godfrey on his wrist pad was dead.

  “Status?” he said into the microphone.

  No answer came. He was deaf and blind to what was happening in Santiago.

  Chaos erupted in the monastery. Gunshots rang out from the inside. Olivia huddled with the other women in the small parking lot in front of the building. Like Clelia and Katherine, she was bent over the children, sheltering their smaller bodies from the attack that threatened. The heavy wooden doors to the entrance were barred and the gate that gave access to the street locked. They were trapped inside while Godfrey’s men had turned on him and Cain’s team had gone to their aid.

  A terrible battle of elements ensued. A gale-force wind lifted the roof tiles and lightning tore through the air. Smoke from a fire rose above the building, flames climbing through the holes in the roof to the sky. As the storm raged around them, Olivia held onto the low wall, her nails breaking from the effort of not being swept away. Under the measly protection of the arched roof over the barred entrance, Sara and Wayne’s bodies provided human shields to protect Sky, who was sitting in a trance-like state on the ground.

  Lann stood to the left, his arm raised to the clouds and thunder exploding around him. He made a strange kind of devil with a fitted coat and fashionable glasses. His blond braid was dripping with water from the earlier cloudburst he’d commanded, but he didn’t seem to notice. His attention was where everyone’s was, preventing Godfrey from shooting them and getting away. When he dropped his arm, hailstones the size of golf balls descended from the twirling black clouds. Taking aim, he pointed his fingers at a point on the roof.

  “Lann!” Sean shouted.

  The Russian had scarcely sidestepped when a series of bullets ripped into the ground at his feet. Olivia looked up to see Godfrey running over the roof, jumping from tile to tile, an automatic rifle flung over his shoulder. Every now and then h
e stopped to fire it aimlessly into the parking lot, but the bullets bounced uselessly from the white flames Clelia had drawn up around them. Underneath Olivia’s body, the frightened boy shook.

  Godfrey’s men exited on the roof behind him. He glanced at them from over his shoulder and hesitated on the edge before taking a few steps back and charging. He was going to make a jump for the church roof. A flock of sparrows descended from nowhere, aiming straight for Godfrey. There was a commotion of claws, feathers, and beaks, but Godfrey wasn’t to be deterred. He made it safely to the chapel before climbing down the bell tower.

  To her left, Sean’s body trembled with power. The earth opened in a circle around Godfrey, trapping him on a tiny island in the middle of the garden. The guards were scrambling down the tower, already. Her husband fired wildly at them, managing to take down two before one of their bullets hit him in the leg. His knees buckled. He roared like a lion as he went down to the ground. The urge to shut out the brutality was strong, but she forced her eyes open to witness Godfrey’s fate.

  The Medusa guards stormed like a pack of hungry dogs, but it was Josselin who was the closest. Godfrey fired twice more before the chamber was empty. He kept on pulling the trigger, even though nothing happened. Josselin’s large frame advanced on the man trapped on the piece of dirt. Seeing that their prey was trapped, the guards stopped, watching Josselin curiously. His hair whipped around his face in the wind, the white streaks only serving to give the inky black of the long strands a harsher look. With his coat billowing behind him, he stood face to face with the man who’d tormented them all, never breaking eye contact.

  “Don’t look,” Katherine whispered to the children, pulling them tighter into her embrace.

  Josselin raised his arm, his weapon aimed at the man on the island.

  Godfrey pushed to his feet and sneered. “Come get me. Come on, show me if you’re a man.”

  The howling wind and thunder stopped. The flames died down. The flock of birds dispersed. Silence descended. Time seemed to stand still as the two men challenged one another silently.

  A single shot rang out. Godfrey’s body jerked. Eyes wide open, he sunk to his knees before falling backward, but those eyes were already seeing nothing before he hit the ground. Olivia only realized the enormous extent of Josselin’s inner strength then. A lessor man would’ve given in to the need to torture the enemy who’d threatened and tormented his family, but the death shot the new commander had inflicted was mercifully instantaneous.

  “It’s over,” Clelia said. She sunk to the ground, rocking Laudren in her arms. “It’s over.”

  Olivia dared to pinch her eyes shut for the first time since entering the monastery. She only took a few seconds to compose herself before taking stock of the situation. The canyon around Godfrey’s body was gone, the earth shrunk back to its original state. Josselin, Lann, and Sean gathered around his lifeless form, the three men staring quietly down at their dead enemy. Clelia and Katherine were herding the children to the gates.

  Sara shook Sky’s shoulder gently. “It’s over.”

  Sky opened her eyes and looked around with a glazed expression. “Did it work?”

  “It did.” Sara pressed a finger on her earpiece. “It’s over, Maya. You can cut the feed.” She offered Sky a hand. “Come on.”

  The sound of metal grating on metal sounded from the inside, and then Bono pushed open the doors.

  “I’ve opened the gates from the interior control panel.” He moved straight toward Sky, pulling her into his arms.

  “You did it.” Pride marked his words. “The helijet’s waiting. Let’s get out of here.”

  “Let me give you a hand,” Wayne said, pulling Olivia to her feet.

  Olivia ushered the boy with the others to the vehicles that Lann and Sean were driving through the gates. They wasted no time in bundling everyone inside. Together, they left the sight of destruction.

  Cain paced the floor at the base house in Rio, his phone stuck to his ear.

  “Affirmative,” he replied to his sponsor. “Godfrey has been eliminated.” He touched the band-aid he’d applied over the cut on his temple where the pain still throbbed.

  “With his whole scam blown open,” his sponsor said, “the attacks on paranormals have stopped. So have the murders. I guess your assumption was right. Godfrey was responsible. The Medusa Movement is dispersing. In a few months from now, no one will even remember the name.”

  He would. Something like this, a man never forgot. “I’ll get a report to you shortly.”

  “No hard feelings, I hope? If there was another, more peaceful way we wouldn’t have let you take the knock.”

  “I never took it personally.”

  “We’re pleased. Your team did a good job. You trained them well. Expect a big bonus.”

  The line went dead.

  He went outside and stared out over the pool at the view of the city beyond. Far below, dancers dressed in white practiced capoeira, the old freedom dance of the slaves, to the beat of a drum. A man and woman with matching tattoos jogged down a street. They stopped at the corner to rest, their hands on their hips. A car honked its horn at a teenager on a skateboard who obstructed the traffic. Life pulsed around him in all its glory. The world continued to exist. Maybe man will learn from his mistakes and not repeat them. Maybe the world would exist without crime and pollution in Clara’s time. Or maybe, as long as human nature existed with a duality inherited from the time of Paradise, the bad would always live alongside the good. Man was cursed to be both.

  The volume of the drums picked up as the capoeira dance gained speed. He felt it in his veins. Blood pumped powerfully through him. His whole being vibrated with vitality. The miracle of being alive hadn’t worn off. A few hours ago, he was supposed to be stoned to death. He’d been granted another chance, another day, and he intended on making the most of it. The second Olivia stepped from that aircraft he’d tell her what she meant to him. She wasn’t his enemy’s wife, any longer. She was a widow. Free.

  The noise of the helijet interrupted his thoughts. He turned to watch the craft descend, his heartbeat increasing the closer it came. The spin of the blades stopped when the craft touched down. The hatch lifted. Josselin exited first, helping Clelia, who was carrying Laudren in her arms, from the heli. The rest of the team followed one by one until there was only Olivia and Godfrey’s child left.

  Their eyes locked when she took the step down. He wanted nothing more than to lift her into his arms and carry her to his room, but she had her arm around the pale-faced child. What he wanted to say would have to wait. The best he could do for now was touch her hand as she walked past and hold her in sight until she entered the house.

  Josselin appeared at his side. Fine lines of tension marred his eyes. “We’re glad to have you back, boss.”

  Cain nodded toward the children who followed the women into the house. “How are they coping?”

  “They’ll be fine. The women are going to settle them in. I suggest we get the debriefing out of the way. I’m eager to be with Laudren.”

  Cain led the way to the meeting room. For the commander of the team, duty came first, and duty demanded a debriefing for the report he had to prepare. Lann, Sean, and Josselin filed in after him.

  “How did you do it?” Cain asked.

  “It was Sky’s idea,” Josselin said. “She went back in time to the conversation she and Godfrey had. Maya transmitted it via our satellite. It took a bit of hacking to break through Godfrey’s satellite firewalls, but Maya’s good with that.”

  “I’m sorry about your residence, Lann,” Cain said. “Rest assured, we’ll have it restored.”

  Lann inclined his head. “It’s only bricks.”

  Cain looked around the table. How did a man say thank you for his life? “You saved me from dishonor and a public execution.”

  “There was no way we would’ve abandoned you,” Lann said.

  “Godfrey released the women and children,” Josselin continu
ed, “but he wasn’t going to honor his agreement. The minute we walked through the door, it locked behind us and so did the gates leading to the street. We were trapped in the parking lot. We always knew it was going to take a fight, but we couldn’t attack from the tiny parking with the children there.”

  “When the Medusa guards who accompanied Godfrey saw the feed,” Sean said, “they turned against him. We knew it was only a question of time. We didn’t have to go in. They chased him out for us. That’s where we nailed him.”

  “The body?” Cain asked tightly.

  “Shipped to government as per your request. Tim took care of the logistics.”

  His sponsors wanted proof. This had been a too big fiasco to take anyone at face value. “Casualties?”

  “Two Medusa guards, shot by Godfrey,” Josselin said. “Lann, Sean, and Clelia used their arts. There were shitloads of thunder, lightning, and fire. Oh, and an earthquake. Damage control?”

  “Not this time. The hiding is over. The world knows who you are and what you’re capable of. You have rights like everyone and laws to protect you.”

  “If there’s nothing else,” Lann said, “I’d like to be with my wife and child.”

  “There is one more thing.” Cain activated the hologram with their new logo. “I got this from my sponsors a short while ago.”

  The men stared at the logo that depicted a number seven with the word arts next to it.

  “No more forbidden,” Cain said. Just like he’d promised Clara.

  “I already like it,” Sean said, drawing a finger over the image.

  Cain dismissed them with, “Go take care of your families.”

  Not sure where he’d find Olivia, he hurried to his room. As he’d hoped, she was there, staring out of the window. At the sound of his entry, she turned. Pain reflected in her eyes, but also something that looked like care.

 

‹ Prev