by J. R. Rain
“Next, he was quickly pulled into a cabin, and over to another kind of altar. He had passed their test, apparently. They were well-pleased with him. They had him shower and dress in fine robes.
“He didn’t feel like showering. He didn’t care that they were pleased with him. He wanted to turn himself in to the police. He wanted to run away forever. He wanted to drop to his knees and weep.
“But everything was happening so fast. So very fast. The shower, the robe, and now kneeling before the new altar.
“Others were there, too. Others who seemed pleased with him. Others who were hooded and robed just like him.”
Allison looked at me with chagrin. Patricia kept going.
“He was told it was time to become one of them. He shook his head and said no, that he no longer wanted to become one of them. He was told it was too late. The process had begun.
“They spoke of untold wealth and power. They reminded him what a privilege it was to be one of them, The Society. Still, he continued to shake his head, weeping into his hood. Listening again to the woman who had begged for her life.”
Why had he killed her? I wondered.
“But the longer he was with them, and the longer he knelt before the strange altar, the further away the woman’s cries became. He was told that she was nothing. A whore. A test. To forget about her. To think of himself and his family. His legacy. His empire that was to come.
“Yes, he wanted an empire. They would create it for him. They would help build it for him. They would pave the way for him. No one would stop his empire. No one. Not even God.”
Patricia had pulled the God card.
She went on, “He was nodding now. Yes, he desperately wanted it. After all, he had proven himself, right? He had done all they asked, right? Surely he deserved the keys to the kingdom.
“Yes, it was time. It was time for him to claim his destiny. For himself, his family and future generations.
“Not yet, they told him. There was still a final step. A final act of loyalty. A final price.”
I was pretty sure I knew what it was.
* * *
Patricia paused in her retelling, looking haggard and drained, and far from the beauty queen she’d once been.
Years of a family curse will do that to you, came Allison’s thoughts.
Patricia looked like she wouldn’t go on—couldn’t go on. I respected that. I knew this was hard on her, even with my gentle prodding.
So, I finished the tale for her, as I suspected I knew the ending. “He sold his soul,” I said.
Patricia Thurman snapped her head around. Her mouth dropped open a little. The look of shock segued into grim defeat. She nodded. “Yes. And not just his soul. Everyone in the family’s soul. Everyone. Every future generation.” She paused, and seemed tempted to ask Allison for another cup of coffee, but set the mug on the table in front of her instead. She uncrossed her legs, and looked directly at me. “But your real concern, Ms. Moon, should be more obvious.”
“And what would that be?”
“Why did they really invite you up here?”
I opened my mouth to answer. The answer, after all, should have been obvious. I had been hired to do a job. To find a killer. Instead, I thought about her question and closed my mouth.
She gave me a weak smile, got up, braced herself for rain to come, and then dashed out.
Chapter Twenty-nine
I was on the phone with Kingsley.
“I assume you need something?” he asked pleasantly, rich humor in his deep voice.
“You assume correctly.”
I was in my small bedroom. The door was closed. Allison was cleaning up in the kitchen. Occasionally, my small bedroom window rattled with the passing wind, which shrieked like a living thing. Or a dead thing.
I brought Kingsley up to speed, knowing I sounded insane as I did so, and knowing I sounded, perhaps, even a little hysterical. I was, after all, trapped on an island in the middle of a nasty storm—blustery, my ass—with what appeared to be one equally nasty dark entity. An entity that just might have lured me up here. Successfully, I might add.
Kingsley listened quietly, as he always did. A helluva trait in a man. He occasionally made small, noncommittal noises to let me know he was still there and hearing me—another great trait—and when I was done, he let out some air.
“Wow, Sam.”
“Wow what?”
“That’s quite a story.”
“Thank you for that completely worthless assessment.”
“Ouch.”
“I’m freaking out over here. Tell me what the hell is going on, please.”
“Calm down, Sam—”
“I’ve got Allison here with me...and I need to keep her safe, too, and I seriously have no clue what’s going on.”
“Sam, calm down. You didn’t let me finish. Yes, that’s a wild story, true, but I also think I know what you’re up against.”
“Oh, thank God.”
“Don’t thank God me yet, young lady. This thing is about as far away from God as you can imagine. And you and Allison are very much in danger. So much so that I’m heading up there now—”
“Wait, what?”
“I’m literally out the door, Sam.”
“Wait, hold on, Kingsley! You can’t be serious. Wait, are you in your car?”
“Yes.” I heard the zip of a seatbelt being pulled out and a thrumming drone.
“Is that your engine starting?”
“Yes. Sam, this thing is old and evil and absolutely delights in destroying lives.”
“Then what does it want with me?”
“I don’t know, but it can’t be good. Where are your kids?”
“With my sister.”
“Good.”
“You’re scaring me, Kingsley.”
“I don’t mean to, but this thing is capable of anything...and it wants you for a reason.”
“But why did you ask about my kids?”
“I don’t know, Sam. But they came to mind.”
“I ask because I’ve been getting a very bad feeling about them, too.”
“Then do something about it, Sam. Have your kids and sister—and her whole damn family—stay at my house.”
“I don’t understand.”
“They’ll be safe there with Franklin.”
“Your butler?”
“Oh, he’s much more than a butler, Sam. And trust me, they will be very, very safe.”
“So, how will you get here? The ferries are closed, due to the storm.”
“I’ll figure something out. See you soon, hopefully. Just be safe, Sam, and don’t ever underestimate this thing.”
“But, what is it?”
There was a small pause before he answered. “I think it just might be the Devil, Sam.”
“The Devil?”
“Or something close to it.”
Chapter Thirty
I clicked off with Kingsley, and just sat there on the corner of my bed.
The bedroom was small, with a single window to my right that looked out towards the woods beyond. The curtains were open and I watched the rain slanting sideways. They looked like blow-darts from an army of elves.
Or, much more likely, I was losing my friggin’ mind.
Did he say the Devil?
As in Satan?
I got up and paced and thought about what I had to do, thought even longer about what I should say to my sister, and then made the call. She picked up on the third ring.
“How’s the trip, Sam—”
“Something’s wrong.”
“What? Is everything okay?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Sam, what’s going on?”
“That’s the problem, Mary Lou, I don’t know, but I think the kids might be in danger. And you, for that matter.”
“You’re joking.”
“No joke, Mary Lou.”
“You’re being serious?”
“Sweetie, I am. More than
I ever have before. There is something very weird going on, and I’ve been having a bad feeling about the kids for the past few hours now. I just spoke to Kingsley and he echoed the same feeling.”
“Someone might hurt Tammy and Anthony?”
The gut-wrenching feeling gripped me again, tearing at me from the inside. I didn’t know if this was a psychic hit or a mother’s intuition. “I think so, yes.”
“Jesus, Sam. Should I call the police?”
I thought about that, too, then told her to give Detective Sherbet a call at the Fullerton Police Department. To let him know my concerns and where she would be with the kids. She digested that last part.
“You want us to stay at Kingsley’s house?”
“Yes.”
“With his butler?”
“He’s more than a butler.”
“Sam, I’m scared.”
“So am I.”
“What will you do?”
I took in a lot of air and said, “I have no clue.”
Chapter Thirty-one
I next spoke to each of my kids.
I let them know the game plan, let them know that they would be staying over at Uncle Kingsley’s house. Tammy snorted. “Don’t lie to us, Mom. I read Auntie Louie’s mind. She’s totally freaked out right now.”
I rubbed my forehead and shook my head. It was, after all, impossible to keep anything away from my kids these days. The truth was, I didn’t know what, exactly, I was keeping away from them. Only that I needed them somewhere safe. And fast.
I told Tammy to give the phone to her brother and she did. I told Anthony, who was now almost as tall as his sister—his recent growth spurt was alarming, to say the least—that it was his job to protect her.
“I’m on it, Mommy,” he said. “If I have to.”
“You have to.”
“She’s kind of a butthead, though.”
“Butthead or not, she’s still your sister.”
“My ugly sister, you mean.”
“I love you guys,” I said, suddenly choked up. God, I even missed their bickering.
“We know, Mommy. You say it all the time. Sheesh.”
“Because it’s true,” I said, drying my eyes.
“But it’s embarrrrrassing.”
“Maybe so, but you need to hear it.”
He sighed loudly. “Fine.”
“Well?” I asked.
“Well what?”
“You know what I need,” I said.
He sighed again, and, ever so softly, whispered, “I guess I love you, too, Mommy.”
I would have laughed if the tears didn’t come to my eyes again.
He added, “Don’t let the bad guys get you, Mommy.”
“I won’t, baby.”
“Bye, Mommy.”
And he hung up...and I wiped the tears from my cheeks, and took a deep breath and set my jaw. I had been clenching my hands so tight that my sharp nails had punctured my palms. I opened my hands and watched the small wounds heal before my eyes.
Whoever this motherfucker was, Devil or no Devil, he was not going to hurt my kids, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to keep me from seeing them, again.
Whoever the hell he was.
Chapter Thirty-two
“I need some air,” I said to Allison when I stepped out of my bedroom.
“But it’s pouring out there.”
I glared at her as she leaped from the couch. “Let me get my jacket.”
Soon we were heading away from the bungalows, along a dirt path that led deeper into the surrounding woods. The island itself was sort of long and narrow. The ocean would be only a half mile or so on either side. Although not huge, the island was choked with evergreens and ferns and something called stinging nettles, which Tara had warned us about.
I could give a damn about stinging nettles.
Even though it was only midday, the woods were dark. But here, under the canopy of evergreens, the storm was nearly non-existent, reduced to only a persistent, howling wind—and a few heavy drops.
The path before us was mostly dirt. I could see deer tracks in the mud, and what was surely a dog’s tracks, although they could have been coyotes. I frowned at that. I didn’t think coyotes were on the island.
Allison looked miserable and cold. She buried her face in her oversized jacket. Myself, I was wearing only a light windbreaker. I was fairly certain my body temperature was even lower than the surrounding wind and rain.
I veered off on a smaller side-trail, and there we found a massive tree with the widest trunk I’d ever seen. I stopped and turned to Allison, who’d been following with her head mostly ducked, doing her best not to trip over the many exposed tree roots.
“We need to talk,” I said.
“I figured that.”
“We might be in some deep shit.”
“I figured that, too.”
“I just talked to Kingsley.”
“The werewolf.”
“Yes.”
“Your ex-boyfriend.”
“Yes.”
“You do realize that a vampire dating a werewolf is a little too...clichéd?”
“Allison...”
“Sorry, sorry...you were saying?”
“There’s some scary shit going on here. Kingsley’s coming out.”
“What? Why?”
“He thinks I’m in way over my head.”
“Sam, from what you’ve told me, you’ve faced some crazy shit.”
“Maybe none crazier than this.”
“Even crazier than me?” asked Allison.
I laughed. I needed that. The tree branches high above us swished and swayed violently. Never had I seen trees like this. So tall, so beautiful. Now as I stood there in the forest, I noticed little balls of light moving about. These bright balls stopped often at plants and at the bases of trees. I watched one stop near a toadstool.
Allison caught my thoughts, and said, “I see those lights, too, sometimes. At parks, and sometimes on my balcony garden at home.”
“What are they?”
“If I had to guess, I would say fairies.”
I snorted.
“Scoffs the vampire,” said Allison, shaking her head. “You, better than most, should know that there are some strange things under the sun...or under the moon.”
“But fairies?” I asked. “With little wings? Like Tinker Bell?”
“Think of them as nature spirits, Sammie. And no little wings, as far as I can tell. Just peaceful, loving entities that tend to Mother Earth.”
I watched the lights flit around the forest some more, dozens of them. Many dozens. They were often the same size, each no bigger than a tennis ball, and their colors ranged from light blue to burning white. One sidled up next to us, slipped between my legs and moved over to a dying fern. It moved carefully over the plant, touching down on each outstretched branch, and then moved on. I sensed, on some level, that it was comforting the dying plant. Weird, yes, but I found the gesture oddly touching.
“So, what do we do, Sam?” asked Allison after a moment or two.
“We don’t do anything. I need to find out what the hell is going on here. You’re going to stay in the bungalow—and stay out of trouble.”
She was about to protest when she saw the look in my eye. “Fine, I’ll stay out of trouble, but I want you to know that I’m lodging a formal complaint.”
“Duly noted,” I said.
“So, then, what are you going to do?” she asked, ducking as a particularly large glob of water splattered on her nose.
“I’m going to have a little talk with our client.”
“Tara? But isn’t she one of them?”
“Exactly,” I said, and turned and headed back through the forest, with Allison stumbling and cursing behind me.
Chapter Thirty-three
As I left Allison in the bungalow, confident that she would be safe for the time being, trusting my inner alarm system—and my own gut feeling—I paused just outside the door.
As rain battered me, I decided to change plans, at least for the time being.
Instead of talking to Tara, I hung a right and headed back into the forest, and found a side trail that I had seen from high above the night before. The trail, wide at first, soon narrowed considerably. I didn’t know much about forests or hiking or even trails, but I figured this to be a game trail.
I continued on, pushing through massive ferns that seemed almost prehistoric. Thorny raspberry bushes were in abundance as well, all filled with juicy berries that probably tasted heavenly. The trail angled up, as I knew it would.
Stinging nettles snagged my jeans as I carefully stepped over fat banana slugs—and even the occasional toadstool. I marveled at the mushrooms that clung to moist tree trunks. Nature at its weirdest. Water dripped seemingly everywhere. Lightning suddenly flashed above, zigzagging through the treetops, followed by an angry grumbling of thunder.
I continued on, slipping once or twice in the sloshing mud, winding my way up the trail that would lead to the highest point of the island.
Soon, as the trees opened and the wind and rain lashed me violently, I found myself on a steep switchback trail that afforded a majestic view of the manor far below. The trail soon led to a rounded rock dome high above the island. I didn’t know if it had a name, but I called it Dome Rock.
Rain drove straight into my face, down inside my jacket collar. I didn’t mind the rain all. It made me feel alive. Human. Normal. Rain didn’t judge or discriminate. Rain fell on everyone...mortal or immortal. Living or dead.
Or some of us in-between.
I slipped and slid my way over the moss-covered rock and soon looked out over the Puget Sound, to distant islands and churning seas. It was so beautiful and epic and alive that it was nearly impossible to believe that a family was being terrorized by a body-jumping demon.
Nearly.
I knew one thing, though: I wanted answers.
And I knew just where to find them.
God.
Chapter Thirty-four