Raven's Rise (World on Fire Book 3)

by Lincoln Cole

  He had stayed here for two days so far and felt seriously like a useless third wheel. When he’d first arrived, he had felt like his presence might prove necessary and that he could help the security team in closing up any defensive holes they might have.

  After all, they didn’t expect a supernatural threat or anything dangerous to happen, and so he would be able to keep their employer safe from threats that her security team couldn’t even imagine.

  However, he had done a full sweep of the entire estate, inside and out, and come to the conclusion that he could do little to augment what they had already. The estate worked like a well-oiled machine with good security—drum tight—and he couldn’t find any weaknesses in it.

  Worse, they knew their security setup as good. The head of security, Trent Dopper, took extreme offense to Dominick coming here, and even with the good graces of the lady of the estate, he showed Dominick no courtesy. It ended up like a constant pissing contest, and the more time that went by, the less willing Trent became to help him with anything.

  Which didn’t surprise Dominick at all, but it did make him feel more than a little useless. He couldn’t come out and explain that he wanted to keep Jill Reinfer safe from a demonic threat, which meant that, basically, he just sat around twiddling his thumbs and waiting for something to go wrong.

  So, while waiting, he poured himself a tall glass of scotch and rested in an armchair. He needed to call Marvin and let him know things remained okay and that he might be gone a few extra days, but he couldn’t bring himself to pick up the phone. He felt torn between hoping the demon would attack to get it over with and dread that it might actually happen.

  And getting a chance to slow down and take a breath proved welcome if not necessarily a good thing. Also, having time to recover meant that he had time to think, and that meant worrying about the attack on the Council and how easily they had gotten destroyed.

  Never had he believed that something like that could happen, let alone with such efficiency. They hadn’t even known an attack loomed imminent until the army showed up at their doorstep. This had been planned for a long time, and even with Aram’s help, the attack bespoke years of planning.

  It made Dominick feel paranoid in a way he’d never before felt. Always, he had assumed relative safety, or at least, not living in the dark about what might happen. He’d believed in the strength of the Council, and now, he saw that he’d misplaced his belief.

  They hadn’t even imagined that The Ninth Circle could have resources enough to hire a mercenary army, let alone plan something like this. Well-trained mercenaries at that, which wouldn’t have come cheap. They had launched an all-out war on the Council, a surprise attack, and it had proven completely effective. Now, nothing endured. Except for Frieda, a few scattered Hunters, and a kid who remained something of an infant where this world was concerned.

  They’d become the last hope of stopping Nida and saving the world.

  ***

  His vigil at the Reinfer estate continued while his boredom intensified. The next morning started much like the previous day had ended, and already, everything blended together. He had breakfast and did his morning exercises, and then just kicked back in his lounge and relaxed.

  Too early for a drink, he decided, after a lengthy internal debate. After a few hours, he went out for a walk around the grounds, hoping to meet some new and—with any luck—less hostile people.

  He managed to speak with one of the guards on the southern side of the estate, but the man’s coldness and hostility kept him from striking up a meaningful conversation. Evidently, someone had warned him about Dominick.

  Instead, he kept walking and did another full outer sweep of the fences surrounding the estate. He did it to distract himself, but the excuse he offered himself was to do another perimeter check. After all, he might have missed something the first several times around. He knew he hadn’t, but at least he could keep busy.

  Most of the security team gave him dirty looks whenever they saw him. He had been here for several long days now, but he still hadn’t managed to break through their animosity and win over any of them. They proved a tight-knit team, incredibly loyal to Trent and their employer, and he a simple outsider.

  All fine with him. He understood tight-knit communities and families. The Hunters worked like that … or, at least, they used to. For years, they’d all looked up to Arthur as a father figure of the organization. They held him up as what they all aspired to become.

  He supposed that Arthur’s fall from grace had given the catalyst for all of this. It had brought an ominous foreboding of dark times to come. The Order of Hunters had fractured, some denouncing Arthur and everything he had stood for, and others remaining loyal to what he had lived as and represented. Their split opinion on what had happened did considerable damage to their morale. Loyalties separated.

  No one had stepped up and taken on the mantle of leadership after Arthur got locked away in prison. They had become disorganized and unfocused, and that had, no doubt, contributed to the fall of the Council.

  Just as he made it outside into the courtyard, his phone rang. Frieda. He answered, “Hello?”

  “Dominick? Where are you?”

  “At the Reinfer estate. Why?”

  “I’ll be flying in sometime in the next couple of days.”

  “How’s Jun?”

  “Better,” she said. “I think he’ll make it.”

  “What about Aram?”

  Frieda didn’t answer. A moment passed. “Stay prepared. I have reason to suspect an attack imminent.”

  “Why?”

  “I just received word from Haatim. I got it wrong. Nida has already acquired the blood of five descendants. There only remain two families unaccounted for.”

  “Only two?”

  “Yes. And Jill Reinfer makes for one of them.”

  He mulled over her words. “And the other one?”

  “Haatim and Father Paladina are looking into it, but so far, we don’t have any concrete names. Nida will, no doubt, come for this bloodline soon, though.”

  “Jill has living relatives. Shouldn’t we protect them as well?”

  “Jill takes priority, as the only one who knows about the Council’s existence.”

  “She also has a full security team and state-of-the-art tech keeping her safe. Nida would be a fool to attack this holdout when she has easier targets.”

  “She should have been a fool to attack us. Look at us now.”

  “Still, I should go track down the other relatives and keep them safe, too.”

  “No. Father Paladina has dispatched Church officials to check in on the others, but for now, our priority must stay on Jill.”

  Dominick thought to argue further—he doubted Nida would be foolish enough to attack this estate—but decided against it. After all, it wasn’t his place to object.

  Moreover, the biggest reason he wanted to go out and check on the other members of the bloodline came down to simple boredom. He hated sitting around here and feeling useless.

  “All right,” he said, finally. “I’ll stay here.”

  “Keep her safe,” Frieda said. “She’s one of the last pieces the demon needs to make this ritual a reality. I’ll get there soon to help.”

  “Sure.”

  He hung up and slid the phone into his pocket, frowning. With the estate so secure, it would prove almost impossible to break into, but Frieda seemed certain that this had become a target. Why would the demon break into such a heavily fortified position?

  That said, he would have thought the same thing about the Council building. Frieda had called it right: it would prove unwise to underestimate her. They had hired and withdrawn an army of soldiers to keep the Council safe, and Nida had still destroyed it in under an hour. It might seem foolish to attack such a fortified position, maybe even arrogant, but he wouldn’t put anything past the demon.

  If Frieda felt concerned, then he should too.

  It had gone way past th
e time that he went to have a talk with Trent.

  ***

  He found Trent in the security office with the two members of his technical team. One sat watching the bank of camera feeds, and the other looked at one of the computers alongside Trent.

  The security head’s expression soured when Dominick entered. “Can I help you?”

  “I’d hoped to get a couple of minutes of your time. We need to talk.”

  “We’ve talked. What else do you need?”

  “In private,” Dominick said.

  Trent frowned but, finally, nodded. “Sure. Ten minutes. I’ll meet you in the lounge where you’ve been hiding out.”

  Dominick took the insult in stride, nodded, and then headed back upstairs to the second floor. He checked his watch. Enough time had passed now. It had reached afternoon, albeit by only a couple of minutes. He poured himself a drink, poured one out for Trent, and then took a seat to wait.

  Trent took about twenty minutes to show but came in at length. He stopped in the doorway, glancing over at Dominick, and made no move to sit.

  “Can you shut the door?” Dominick stood and offered Trent the extra drink. The chief waved away the glass but did close the door. Dominick gestured toward the seat opposite him, and after a moment, Trent dropped onto the chair.

  “What?” Trent folded his arms across his chest. “What do you need to talk about?”

  “Ms. Reinfer never hired me to look into the security system.”

  Trent frowned further. “No?”

  Dominick shook his head. “We used to work together, Ms. Reinfer and myself. Years ago. I did security for her, though not like this. More of a … targeted operation. I have reason to believe that there is a credible threat planned on her life.”

  Trent continued frowning at him for a second. Finally, he rocked his head back and laughed. Not a real laugh, but just an exaggerated facsimile. “You’re kidding?”

  “Nope.”

  “You’ve seen our security. You can’t, honestly, think someone would try to break in here.”

  “I have reason to believe that they will, and soon.”

  “Who is this fictional group that you believe will try and murder Ms. Reinfer?”

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Try me.”

  “A cult.”

  Taken aback, Trent’s jaw slackened. “Like Satanists?”

  “Nothing like Satanists as you would picture them. This group is the real deal. What these people have planned is violent and dangerous.”

  Trent stayed silent for a moment, studying Dominick. “You never served.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “In the military,” he said. “You never served in any branch of the military, did you? I looked you up and found no records.”

  “No. I didn’t serve.”

  “The men I hire, all of them served. Mostly Rangers.”

  “Your point?”

  “These men stand ready for anything. They’ve fought in war zones and hostile locations all their lives. They’ve gone to hell and back, and they live and breathe ready to handle any situation in which they find themselves. So, when some little jackoff comes in here and tries to tell me that my men aren’t ready, I don’t take too kindly to it.”

  “I’m not saying they aren’t ready for most things. They just aren’t ready for this.”

  “They are ready for anything.” Trent stood and crossed his arms. “I don’t know what game you and Ms. Reinfer have going on, but I’ve gotten just about sick of it. From this point forward, you can deal directly with her. Stay away from my men.”

  Trent headed for the door.

  Dominick watched him go. “What do you have against me?”

  Trent paused, midstride, and looked back at him. “What?”

  “I didn’t come here to threaten your job. I didn’t come here to challenge your masculinity or your livelihood. What the hell do you have against me?”

  “I don’t know you.”

  “No, you don’t, so stop acting like you do. You think me weak because I didn’t serve?”

  “I know you are.”

  “You think because I wasn’t in the military that I’m a coward and haven’t dealt with any tough situations in my life. You think that since you did serve in the military that you have a monopoly on dangerous situations.”

  Trent turned and faced him, narrowing his eyes. “You look in good shape, and I’m sure you can handle yourself in a fight, but the men I hire are trained killers. They would eat you alive.”

  “You honestly believe that?”

  “I don’t believe it. I know it.”

  Dominick eyed him for a second, and then stood. He took off his coat and dropped it on the seat behind him.

  “Then, I’ll enjoy proving you wrong.”

  “What? You think you can take on one of my guys? If you do this, know that I’ll pick one of my best.”

  “Go ahead and pick two.” Dominick grinned. “Let’s make this interesting.”

  Chapter 9

  Father Paladina and Haatim arrived at an old building in an older district of the city early the next morning. The previous day, Father Paladina had given him a tour of the city, explaining that nothing ever happened fast in Vatican City and that Haatim would need to stay patient.

  Haatim believed that the priest had employed delaying tactics but didn’t know the man well enough to feel certain. In either case, the tour proved a lot of fun, and they had a relaxing dinner at an outdoor restaurant.

  Now, they made their way to a not-oft-used library. Not one of the Vatican libraries (secured and impossible for either of them to get into without months of waiting—and even then it remained doubtful that Haatim would ever get approved to enter), but a library where they could work in privacy without fear of intrusion.

  Dim inside, it had a high-vaulted ceiling and rows and rows of tables running down the center. At least fifty. Each table held a small lamp for reading, and the room itself didn’t look at all well-lit. Most of the lamps sat turned off, and the building lay almost empty.

  Around the outer walls of the central chamber stood bookshelves filled to the brim with old tomes, most of which looked ancient but well-tended. It all left Haatim impressed, which must have shown on his face because, when he glanced over at Father Paladina, the man smirked at him.

  “You should see the Vatican Libraries. They put this and the others like it to shame.”

  “You’ve been?”

  “A few times. At least three Church officials always accompany visitors to make sure they don’t harm any of the books, and they still won’t let me anywhere near the important texts despite my many years of service to the Church. The one that you require, I’ve pulled out for extended use. The actual text gets stored in the archives, so when I need it, a senior librarian has to retrieve it for me and make copies.”

  “The archives?”

  “Where we keep the important books. Very few people have access to those.”

  Haatim nodded. “You said others. You have more libraries like this?”

  “Several. The Church has some of the largest and most complete collections of ancient texts anywhere in the world, and many of them duplicated for safety.”

  “Not digitized?”

  Father Paladina laughed. “Where, exactly, do you think we are?”

  He led Haatim over to one of the librarians’ desks, where a middle-aged woman sat. She looked unpleasant, peering at them through glasses that sat at the end of her nose. She wore a vaguely hawkish expression while she sized up and summarily dismissed Haatim.

  She spoke to Father Paladina in Italian, completely ignoring the fact that Haatim stood beside him.

  Father Paladina answered her easily, and after a few minutes of pleasant conversation and a few laughs, she retrieved a binder from under the desk and handed it to him. She did give one last, untrusting look at Haatim before releasing the book, but Father Paladina won her over.

  He thanked her and
tucked the tome under his arm. Then, nodding to Haatim, they walked over to one of the tables and flipped on the light.

  “Not that secure if you ask me,” Haatim said. “She kept that under her desk?”

  “The relevant pages that I managed to copy aren’t deemed important enough by the Church to protect. And, this building is rather secure with cameras, guards, and modern security in case anyone tries any foolishness.”

  “Ah,” Haatim said. “I thought you said they weren’t up-to-date in the digital world?”

  “They have state-of-the-art security. I’m not allowed to take the documents outside the building, but they do allow me to keep them here, on occasion, for easy access when I might need them. As I said, I’ve spent time looking into this rather frequently of late, so our friend over there looked after the copies for me.”

  “From what did you take the documents?”

  “A History of the Council of Chaldea. A rather simple name if you ask me. It is the original text that recounts the founding of the Council.”

  “And the Order of Hunters?”

  “That came later. A few hundred years, I believe. No, this is simply in reference to the Council itself.”

  “The Catholic Church has the only copy?”

  “One of the last ones. A few others remain unaccounted for.”

  “You think that several exist?”

  Father Paladina shrugged. “No idea, but Arthur told me once that Frieda had an original copy as well.”

  “You knew Arthur?”

  “Yes. At one time, long ago.”

  “What was he like? Frieda has told me a little, and Abigail told me some, but they stayed short with the details.”

  “He was arrogant and overzealous,” the priest said. “Nonetheless, he was also a good man. He believed in what he did, and he saved my life on more than one occasion.”

  They sat down at the table, and Father Paladina slid the folder across the top to Haatim.

  “But, those tales can wait for another day. Right now, we have work to do.”

  Haatim opened up the folder, which held only a handful of pages. They showed photocopies of what looked to be an ancient text, and one that proved difficult to read.