by Lincoln Cole
“A lot of people will die no matter what I do. However, I do not intend to become one of them.”
“In any case, I doubt the demon will ask politely for your blood. From everything we’ve seen so far, it intends to kill everyone in its path to accomplish this task. It won’t spare anyone.”
Jill softened up a tiny bit. “I know. A shame, but demons aren’t the most reasonable of creatures.”
“I’m here to make sure that if you are on the demon’s list that it will never get your blood.”
“My security team can handle my protection.”
“They have experience with demons?”
“They have faced things you can’t even imagine, boy.”
“Either way, I’m staying,” Dominick said.
He didn’t add that it went against his better judgment and objection, but he couldn’t afford to let her hand over her blood to Nida. He’d assumed he would come here to protect her from Nida, not the other way around.
“Are you, now?”
He nodded. “So, this can either be easy-peasy, where you give me access to your premises, or difficult, where no one ends up happy.”
Jill studied him for a few seconds from her cushioned seat. Finally, she nodded. “Very well. Talk to Trent, outside. He is my head of security and will set you up with clearance. I’ll tell him you work for a rival company, and I hired you for a security check. That should keep him on his toes.”
Dominick nodded. “I promise not to get in your way. It’ll be like I never came here at all.”
“It better be.”
***
Trent glowered—annoyed—when Dominick exited the sitting room. The big man looked burly and muscular, and not the kind of bloke who took too well to getting dismissed.
He wore the air of someone who had worked at this household guarding Ms. Reinfer for a long time, which meant he would feel completely averse to Dominick stepping in as a rival and competitor. An outsider stepping on his toes and watching his back would give an affront to his pride. Which meant Dominick would need to tread lightly.
Dominick didn’t want to piss off anyone; he just wanted to make sure that their security systems came up to par with Nida’s capabilities. After what had happened to the Council, the stakes had raised incredibly high.
Trent showed him to a security office on the first floor. Two men sat manning the cameras, of which he estimated dozens, if not hundreds, on the premises. Trent ignored the two men and went to a computer station nearby.
Dominick handed him his passport—the mostly legit one, as already, he’d given them his real name—and then waited while Trent typed into the computer.
“This will get you into many rooms in the estate,” Trent said, finally, handing Dominick a keycard. “But not all. It also has a GPS locator in it, so keep it with you at all times.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll let my men know that you’re on site and not to harass you. Ms. Reinfer said you were doing a security check for an outside firm? What firm?”
“Cupertino Consulting,” Dominick said. “She asked me to look over everything and make sure it’s all up to snuff.”
Trent scowled. “Our equipment is all top of the line. We have facial recognition, motion sensors, heat sensors, and ultraviolet sensors at all points of ingress, as well as regular randomized patrol teams.”
“How do you randomize the system?”
“We use a Bar-Link time scheduler with global randomization. In addition, a top of the line firewall locks down all of our internet connections, and we do regular auditing of the logs to check for unauthorized access even from admin accounts.”
Dominick nodded. “That sounds good. How many guards do you have?”
“Six in rotation, another six on call for events, and two techs.”
An expensive operation. Not that it surprised him, though; Jill could afford it and knew about the dangerous underworld and what it could offer.
“Equipment?”
“A fully stocked armory, two armored Jeeps, and easy access to any heavier equipment we might need.”
Dominick nodded again. “Excellent. Do you have a map for external sensors so that I can look it over? I’d hoped to do a perimeter sweep.”
“We have a map but won’t supply it to you. It’s locked down, and we don’t allow outsiders access.”
“Ms. Reinfer hired me—”
“Ms. Reinfer pays us to keep her safe, and that includes from herself. You’re welcome to tour the grounds, check the equipment, and do whatever you like while you’re here. But, please, don’t think for a second that we’ll give you access to any sensitive information.”
Again, no surprise there. Dominick just hoped that he hadn’t overstepped. He didn’t want to annoy Trent too much. At least, not yet. “Of course. I understand.”
“Besides, if you’re good enough to think you can win our contract, you won’t need a map anyway.”
Trent said it with a little smirk that made Dominick want to punch him in the face. “What about accommodations?”
“I’ll have the staff prepare you a guest room and set you up with meals. We’ve logged your phone number into the system, so you’ll get a text when it’s ready.”
Dominick nodded. He slid the keycard into his pocket and headed out of the security room. Exhausted, he didn’t have time to deal with Trent just now. The security chief perceived that Dominick threatened his cushy job and lifestyle and saw him as an enemy, and Dominick could do nothing to prove to him that they worked on the same side.
At least, not until Nida attacked.
He had access now, though, which meant a good thing. He could move about the premises freely and look over the security systems. Although, he doubted he would find weaknesses in their system. They seemed well prepared; at least, to handle human intrusions.
To be honest, right now he looked forward more to having a nice place to sleep and a good warm meal. It had proven too long since he’d last managed just to clean up and relax. He could do his perimeter search later, once he’d rested. Besides, he had no telling of when—or if—Nida would attack.
Now, he could only wait.
Chapter 7
Haatim arrived at St. Peter’s Basilica Cathedral early the next morning. A car waited for him when he awoke and drove him from the hotel and across the border into Vatican City. He had a headache and remained exhausted from the last couple of days, but the sheer fact that he’d come to the Vatican kept him awake and made him curious beyond his greatest expectations.
Previous research told him that while not difficult to get into the Vatican as a tourist, much of the city stayed locked away and nearly impossible to visit without prior authorization from the Church.
However, the people who picked him up had all the paperwork necessary for him to get inside and meet with Father Niccolo Paladina. Normally, such paperwork should have taken weeks, if not months, to procure and, honestly, he might never have received permission.
The driver barely spoke to him during the drive, which he didn’t mind: he felt overwhelmed at seeing the scenery and the holiest of cities—a place he had only imagined visiting in his wildest dreams. Beautiful, it held an aura of awe-inspiring authority and power.
The Cathedral looked amazing as well, and completely beyond anything he’d experienced. The pictures of it that he’d seen in books and online didn’t do it justice, and the feelings that overwhelmed him, in addition to feeling so tired that he could barely walk, made him feel closer to God. The placed seemed to have a spiritual connection. The building loomed overhead, enormous, and carried with it an air of grandiosity that made him stop and just stare at the intricate décor on the outside.
His excitement overtook him, and he allowed himself to bask for just a few moments in the realization that he stood truly within Vatican City and before the heart of the Catholic Church.
For many years, while studying religion at the University in Arizona, he had dreamed of coming here. Back when he had thought
religious study as just a fun thing he could do at school to keep his parents happy. Back when he knew nothing about this life. Back when he didn’t have a care in the world.
Haatim enjoyed studying Eastern religion, and Buddhism as well, but Western Religion had become the focus of his education since he’d taken courses in a Western School. Nothing quite embodied the idea of Western Religion the way the Vatican City did, and it had made it onto his bucket list of things to do before he died.
To remain perfectly honest, he’d never expected to complete any of the items from his bucket list while he remained so young.
And, the more he thought about it, the closer he realized he’d come to dying young.
A sobering thought.
“Quite magnificent, isn’t it?” a voice asked from nearby.
Haatim turned. An Italian man stood a few feet away, watching him. He had olive skin, jet black hair, piercing eyes, and had the collar of an ordained priest around his neck. The man looked to be in his late sixties, maybe older.
He wore a half-smile on his face as he studied Haatim, looking over his wide-rimmed oval glasses the way one might stare at a book. It took Haatim a moment to recognize him from the photos Frieda had given him, and he realized the photos must have been taken when the man was quite a bit younger.
“Father Paladina?”
“One and the same,” the man said, nodding.
“Ah, Frieda sent me here to find you.”
The Father didn’t reply. Instead, he turned and looked over at the Basilica Cathedral.
“I always wish I could see it the same way the tourists do. The way you do once again, as though seeing it for the first time.”
“It’s beautiful.”
Father Paladina nodded. “I can appreciate the beauty and sheer majestic quality of it still, but it simply doesn’t affect me any longer. I long with nostalgia for the emotions that coursed through my body when first I beheld it.”
“How old were you?”
“Merely a child. Seven years was all I had in this world when I first got brought to the city. After a while, it ceased to seem amazing and simply became home.”
A moment passed in silence. Finally, Haatim spoke, “I apologize for being rash, but Frieda sent me here to meet with you.” Haatim turned to face the priest once more. “She said you could help me locate a book? Something about the history of the Council of Chaldea that the Vatican holds.”
Father Paladina smiled. “Right to the point.”
“I don’t have much time, and it’s incredibly important. Life or death. I’m in a hurry.”
“I know of the burden placed upon you,” Father Paladina said. “But, sometimes, it’s important to stop and take note of our surroundings, lest we fall out of touch. Occasionally, in our rush to get somewhere, we need to slow down and take stock of where we are, or else we might never get where we need to go.”
“I can appreciate the beauty of this place some other time.”
Father Paladina frowned at him. “How can you ever feel sure that there will come some other time?”
“I can’t,” Haatim said. “But, right now, I really need to find that book.”
Father Paladina nodded. “You remind me of someone I once knew from a long time ago. He behaved in a brash and impatient way, too. Don’t fret; already, I have pulled the book that Frieda requested from the library and will give you all of the access to it that you require.”
“You have? That’s great.”
“Actually, for the last few weeks, I’ve looked into the issue the same as Frieda has.”
“Oh? Why?”
“Because,” Father Paladina said. “I’m afraid things are a lot worse than she thinks.”
***
“What do you mean?” Haatim asked.
Father Paladina gestured for Haatim to follow him and walked away from the Basilica and toward a waiting car. The sleek BMW had tinted windows and looked much like a government issued vehicle.
“Things like this are best not discussed in public.”
Haatim followed him across the parking lot, weaving through tourists and traffic. Father Paladina walked quickly, with purpose, and Haatim had to struggle to keep up.
He waited until they’d settled comfortably inside the car before speaking once more.
“There. Much better. I have spent too much time on my butt these past years and have grown unaccustomed to standing so much.”
“What were you saying?” Haatim asked. “What do you mean that it’s worse than Frieda thought?”
The driver glanced at them in the rearview mirror. Father Paladina waved his hand at him, and the driver rolled up the divider to separate them and provide privacy. Slowly, they rolled away from the Cathedral and onto the street, heading deeper into the city.
Father Paladina sat for a moment in silence, staring out of the window. “When Frieda called, she said you would come here to search for a list of names. She also mentioned that it could prove important.”
“Yes, she sent me here to research the original Council and look for any descendants.”
“For a few months now, I’ve investigated that same list.”
“What? Why?”
“Because those descendants have developed a bad habit of turning up dead.”
“What do you mean?”
“We have certain contingencies in place to track coincidences and happenstance because what seems like one rarely is. Four people turned up dead in the last three months, and all of them descendants of the original founders of the Council of Chaldea.”
“Four?” The news shocked Haatim.
Father Paladina nodded. “Four. And when I spoke to Frieda earlier, she said that her blood got taken as well. That means that only two bloodlines remain unaccounted for of the original seven.”
“We need to tell Frieda,” Haatim said.
“No.” Father Paladina shook his head.
“This could become critical information. What do you mean by ‘no’?”
“Frieda refuses to tell me what’s going on, and until she opens up to me, I shan’t open up to her. There remain only two bloodlines unaccounted for, but she won’t tell me what the blood is for?”
Haatim understood that the priest had tried to prompt him by turning the last into a question. “I need to inform Frieda,” he said, finally. “She needs to know about this.”
“I won’t stop you, and I understand fully. I just want to be clear that I dislike being kept in the dark. How can I help when you keep me at arm’s length?”
Haatim didn’t know whether or not Frieda had a good reason to withhold information from Father Paladina, and he hadn’t known the priest for more than a couple of minutes, but he could think of no good reason to withhold information from him. After all, Frieda had sent him here to find help.
“It’s related to an ancient evil. Something the Council locked away long ago. My sis—the demon that attacks us—is trying to release it.”
Father Paladina frowned. “Surgat?”
“You know about it?”
“Only stories. Not anything conclusive. I’ve seen mention of him in some older texts, but only in passing. I believe that the Church has withheld and protected most of the information, though I cannot be certain why.”
“Well, there you go. That’s why these people are getting killed. For their blood so that the demon can release Surgat.”
“What demon is this who attempts to release Surgat? Do you know its true name?”
Haatim shook his head. “No. It possesses my sister, though; and, unfortunately, we don’t know what demon it is or how powerful it might be.”
“Names are power. If we can find out which demon lives inside her, then we can—maybe—find a weakness and put an end to this.”
That thought hadn’t occurred to Haatim. “Makes sense.”
“More to research. However, it sounds like we have our work cut out for us.”
“If four of the bloodline have gone missing in the l
ast few months already, why didn’t you warn anybody?”
“I did. Or tried to, but only in passing.”
“In passing? This seems like more than an ‘in passing’ problem. We might have gotten better prepared if we’d known something like this had happened.”
Father Paladina shrugged. “A regrettable mistake. Hindsight makes for a cruel mistress. Things like this have happened before, and it usually comes to nothing. As I said, I’ve investigated it. Things always seem much clearer when looking backward, but you need to understand that my information came from all over the world and proved vague in nature. In no way could I have known that something like this would happen.”
“You should have reached out to the Council.”
“I did. Multiple times, but with the trial of Frieda Gotlieb commencing, they became wholly focused inward and unwilling to look out at the world around them. The Council isn’t what it once was and has suffered under hubris for years. When I worked with them, a long time ago, it operated like a completely different organization.”
“You worked for the Council?”
“With,” the Father said. “I worked alongside Arthur Vangeest a few times, though that happened many years ago, back when the Order of Hunters numbered in the hundreds. Back then, I thought them just vigilante murderers killing people who might have a touch of corruption in them.”
“What do you think now?”
Father Paladina hesitated. “The same. Only now, I think that a lot less of them exist.”
Chapter 8
Dominick spent most of his time in the lounge on the second floor of the estate and tried not to think about just how much money someone had to have that their estate would have multiple lounges inside the same building.
Four lounges, to be exact. Every single one of them big enough for him and his husband to live in comfortably, and each filled with grandiose and expensive items that lent an ostentatious feel. The second-floor one seemed the least pretentious he could find. It also made for one of the only ones stocked with a full bar.
Jill Reinfer liked to collect expensive items and antiques, apparently, and so Dominick found himself constantly surrounded by things that he couldn’t afford.