Forty-Four Book Thirteen (44 13)

by Jools Sinclair

  The old man returned and handed me my change. He paused for a moment, looking up at me.

  “How about a boat? I’ll slash the price, give you a half-day rental for only ten bucks. Calm seas make for easy navigating.”

  “No, thanks,” I said. “But I’ll take you up on Key Largo. I love that movie.”

  “Hmm.” He rubbed at his beard. “I would have pegged you for the Scarface type.”

  “I could never get past the shower scene.”

  He smiled and nodded.

  “Well, goodnight, miss. Remember, I’m here at the desk all night. Just let me know if you need anything.”

  I took the beat-up video container and walked back outside into the still, humid air, heading down the corridor to my room. But before I pulled out my key card, old doubts rose up and floated around my mind.

  What the hell was I doing here watching old movies and swimming? I needed to be out there looking for Nathaniel twenty-four-seven. But along with that thought came that other one that had been building.

  He wasn’t here.

  I was almost certain of it now. He wasn’t here among the tourists in their beach hats and sunscreen and plaid shorts. He wasn’t in the taffy shops that lined the streets or the restaurants or the gift shops. Maybe he had been here at one point, but no longer. It was a dead end. His scent was gone. His ghouls were gone.

  I needed a new plan.

  I blew out some air, swiped the key a couple of times before the light went pale gray, and pushed open the door to my room.

  I needed a new vision.

  And I needed it tonight.

  I pulled back the curtain and glanced outside.

  Samael was there, standing in the shadows, his blue eyes cutting through the darkness.

  It reminded me of that time back home when I had followed him through the snowy streets and caught up to him at the bridge that crossed the Deschutes, where he was waiting for me. At the time I had been sure that he was the one who had killed Charlie Modine’s wife. The way he had looked at me by the river with those vicious eyes and told me to mind my own business had sent ripples of fear up and down my spine.

  We had come a long way since that night on the bridge.

  I had traveled across the country, first fleeing the police, then chasing Nathaniel. And Samael had been there with me every step of the way. But there was still so much I didn’t know about him.

  One thing I knew though was that his energy didn’t drain me like it used to in the beginning. Back then, whenever I stood next to him it felt like I was standing in the eye of a storm that was ready to explode and flatten everything in its wake. That energy was so intense that I couldn’t be around him for too long without feeling weak or sick. But it wasn’t like that anymore and I wasn’t sure why. Had I adjusted to his power? Was he weaker? Was I stronger?

  I cracked open the window to let in the sound of the surf and closed the curtain. I went over to the bed, sat with my back against the headboard, and closed my eyes.

  Show me.

  And then I let it come.

  CHAPTER 18

  I heard the music first.

  And then I was sitting in that library.

  Everything looked as I remembered it. The tall built-in bookcases on either end of the fireplace, the leather chairs, the cart with the wine bottles and glasses. A high-end record player was in the corner with a vinyl LP spinning, playing opera.

  A fire raged behind the wrought iron mesh, crackling and hissing.

  I couldn’t believe that I was here, back at the house where I was held captive all those years ago.

  Where I almost died.

  Where Nathaniel Mortimer did die.

  I started shaking, the past ice cold and vivid.

  CHAPTER 19

  The room held bad memories and echoes of old conversations, Nathaniel’s voice always so calm as he explained why it was necessary for me to die.

  He had told me about his search for immortality and about how he was close to finding a serum that would achieve it. He talked about how he had given it to me, had saved me from the drowning at the lake by injecting it into my corpse while I was at the hospital. And how I owed it to science and all of humanity to find out why and how it had worked.

  There wasn’t the slightest trace of madness in his inflection when he then told me that I was scheduled for an upcoming experiment in which he would drown me once more and bring me back to life.

  I walked to the windows and glanced out.

  I could see the sand down below, the dock, and a large boat trolling back and forth out on the black water. I tried to shake off the fear and turned around to study the room.

  Suddenly something moved in the shadows and he stepped out of the darkness, the glow from the fire illuminating his angular face.

  “Hello, Abigail.”

  CHAPTER 20

  Nathaniel Mortimer looked flesh and bone, not at all like a ghost.

  “It’s a pleasure to see you again,” he said. “It’s been far too long.”

  The room started spinning and I felt woozy. I reached for my knife but dropped it, watching it tumble to the ground and bounce off the wood floor before landing on a rug.

  “There is no need for that,” he said, picking up the blade and handing it back to me. “You’re my guest. You’re safe here, Abby.”

  He didn’t fool me, but when I tried to move toward the door my feet felt like they were encased in cement. A rush of nausea washed through me, making my knees jiggle like Jell-O, and everything wobbled as I staggered back toward the center of the room. I managed to collapse into one of the chairs, landing abruptly on the leather seat.

  “I do hope you like red,” he said, picking up a crystal decanter and studying it for a moment. He poured. “This was an exceptionally good year.”

  He handed me a glass, the flames from the fire licking at his back. I knew that I had to pay attention to everything and anything that might help me later.

  “What is this opera you always listen to?”

  “La Bohème by Puccini.”

  “What’s it about?”

  “What all good stories are always about… love.” He stared at me as he took a sip of wine. “And death. Those two always seem so interconnected, don’t they? Spoiler alert: Mimi dies at the end.”

  “Does it remind you of your wife?” I said.

  He was quiet for a moment before answering.

  “That’s a little crude, wouldn’t you say? You don’t hear me bringing up your dear mother or the dead snowboarder. But, of course, you’ve moved on from him. Now there’s old what’s his name.”

  “I should have figured you’d be here,” I said, cutting him off. “I mean, this is where you died. Where your brother killed you. Isn’t it ironic that Ben loved you the way he did but in the end was the one who had to put you down?”

  Rage washed over his face like a tide coming in, replaced quickly with a forced smile.

  “Next time I see Benjamin, I’ll be sure to express my gratitude, because he did me a favor. Perhaps after our talk here tonight I’ll go down to the cave where I have him chained and do just that. Would you like to send a message? I’d be happy to pass it along.”

  I took in a long breath.

  “And, just for the record, it’s not my death that draws me to this house,” he said. “It’s the house itself. The views, the privacy. The memories. These books. Right before my transition I was reading a first edition of Dante’s Inferno. It’s about Hell.”

  “I know what it’s about.”

  “Yes, of course, you are after all a high school graduate.” There was a twinkle in his eye. “But perhaps you’re not familiar with the inspiration for the book. Dante used all the foul people in his life to illustrate where they would fit into the scheme of Hell, where they would find themselves after such atrocious behavior in life. It’s a little too dramatic for my taste and doesn’t align with my own definition of Hell, but it is a classic.”

  “All ri
ght, tell me, Nathaniel. What’s your definition?”

  He leaned over, coming closer to my face. I was again shocked by how real he looked. Even in Jesse’s strongest days as a ghost, he never looked like this. I wondered if it was the dream or if he really looked like this now in real life.

  “Hell is a circle,” he said, his voice fiery. “And I’ve been stuck in that circle for much too long. Always living my life only to die and then repeating the dreadful cycle over and over and over again.”

  “How long have you been around?”

  “Let’s just say for a very long time.” He pointed at the glass on the table. “Abby, at least try the wine. I brought this up from the cellar hours ago just for you.”

  “You knew I was coming?”

  He smiled.

  “Where were we? Ah, yes, Hell. It was my inspiration, my goal through all the many incarnations. To find a way to break the circle. To put an end once and for all to all the wasted stops and starts. And now, after so many years of trial and error, so many errors, I have achieved it. I don’t ever need to play by someone else’s rules. I have wrestled away immortality from a jealous, greedy god.”

  The hot flames reflected in his black eyes.

  “I am free, forever free. I’ve left death behind. And in freeing myself, I am now in a position to help others. And there are so many others, so many who wish to do what I’ve done, to return to this world. We are legion, Abby. An army of lost souls searching for a home. And I hold the keys to the kingdom.”

  “But you’re not alive, Nathaniel. You’re a ghost in a dream, nothing more. None of this is real.”

  He shook his head.

  “You above all others should know that that isn’t true. All of this that you see around you, the fire, these books, my presence, is as real as anything in that dingy little motel room with the peeling paint and hurricane shutters.”

  He knew where I was staying. I needed to remember that when I woke up.

  “There is more to reality than what can be seen through human eyes. You can’t argue that point. You see ghosts as clear as day, while most people pass right by. And yet they believe. They want to believe. In ghosts. And in an old man in the sky who sits around listening to harp music. People are such fools, all of them. They don’t deserve to live.”

  “You sound like Harry Lime,” I said.

  “Who?” He squinted at me for a moment, trying to place the name. “Ah, yes, sometimes I forget that you see the world in blacks and whites and through old films. The Third Man, isn’t it? I’ll take that as a compliment. Harry Lime’s worldview is not so different from my own, I suppose. He referred to humans as dots, didn’t he?”

  “So it’s okay to kill them, those dots?”

  “No. We do not kill them, Abby, we possess them. We take what is wasted and repurpose it.”

  I blew out some air. I had heard him ramble on like this before and I knew how easy it was to get sucked in and begin to argue. I needed to stay focused, to look for something new, but it was hard.

  “What happens to the person inside the body when one of your dark spirits takes it over?” I said after a while. “Where does it go?”

  I was thinking back to that man in the barn.

  “They may stay in their bodies if they choose, sharing it with my spirits, or surrender it completely and stay with my brother. It’s classic Darwinism. Survival of the fittest.”

  “It’s classic evil,” I said. “Murder and death and destruction all for the sake of power.”

  He chuckled.

  “And you think that your God’s universe is any different? You seriously believe that the world, with all its wars and poverty and disease and strife, is morally superior to what I’m proposing? Read your history books, Abby, pick up a newspaper, take a look around, and then try to find all that justice and decency and honor you are so sure exists. I can guarantee you that my world will be a much better place. You’ll see.”

  The room was spinning again, fueled by madness. Needing out, I lifted myself up off the chair.

  “Abby, please, not yet,” he said. “There’s something that you must know.”

  CHAPTER 21

  “I’m through listening to your ravings,” I said, taking a step toward the door. “They bore me.”

  “Bore you?” He shot up and blocked my path. “That’s absurd.”

  “There’s nothing new here and I’m not listening to it anymore. Why would I? Nothing has changed since I first met you all those years ago. You’re still the same spineless killer.”

  He pounded his fist into his hand.

  “A killer, yes, but never spineless!”

  The room shook, his eyes dancing with rage, the bottles and glasses rattling on the cart. A moment later the poker spilled to the ground in front of the fireplace. I held my nerve, my back straight, eyes level, and stared right into his dark soul.

  Surprisingly, he moved back.

  “The real spineless murderer is your good friend Samael,” he said. “Do you have any idea how many thousands of deaths he’s responsible for? And who he pledged his allegiance to back in Rome?”

  I shuddered.

  “That was a long time ago,” I said weakly.

  Nathaniel laughed.

  “Come, come, Abby. Surely you know that there is no walking away from Satan once you’ve signed over your soul. And even if he could go back on his word, do you think your God would have him? That all would be forgiven? Samael will never be welcomed back into His Kingdom, no matter what he does. Not ever. You really need to be more careful about the company you keep.”

  I shook my head.

  “Don’t take my word for it, just ask him yourself. He still speaks with Lucifer. But I think you know that.”

  “Is this what you wanted to tell me?” I said. “Because I’m leaving.”

  “As you wish, Abigail.” He adjusted his jacket. “I merely wanted to—”

  He stopped and smiled.

  “What?”

  “Oh, sorry, I lost my train of thought. I was thinking again about how there are so many of them.” He walked over to the door. “So many sad souls, devastated by loss, crumbling to pieces, seeking solace at the bottom of a bottle, back on some ranch. Or…”

  For a moment I forgot how to breathe.

  “Why, it’s almost not fair,” he continued. “The sad ones are so easy.”

  He held my gaze as my heart froze like it was at the bottom of the Arctic Ocean.

  “I’ve enjoyed this chat, but I must be going,” he said. “Please stay as long as you like. It makes me happy thinking that you, too, have fond memories of the time we spent here.”

  Don’t panic, I told myself as I watched him slip out the door. Don’t panic.

  But it was too late, the dread rolled through me like a tidal wave the moment I cracked the real clue I was meant to find here.

  He was after Ty.

  CHAPTER 22

  I woke up slumped on the floor in the corner of the motel room, a hammer pounding in my head. I stumbled to the bathroom and threw up in the toilet bowl. As I propped myself up against the bathtub it came back to me.

  Nathaniel was going after Ty.

  More panic. More vomit.

  The specifics of the conversation seeped back into my brain as I washed my face at the sink and then blew my nose. He hadn’t mentioned him by name, but we both knew who he was talking about.

  The sad ones, seeking solace at the bottom of a bottle, back on some ranch.

  Ty.

  I had turned Ty into a “sad one” and then turned my back on him, leaving him alone and unguarded while I ran around the country with Samael. Ty would be an easy mark for Nathaniel or one of his dark ghouls.

  Nathaniel quite possibly had never even been in Florida. While I was spinning my wheels all this time he was probably haunting the very house where he died, that mansion on the private island off the Washington state coast.

  I felt more than stupid and guilty. But there was no time. I
needed to pull myself together.

  I needed to save Ty.

  I had to protect him somehow. I grabbed my phone and stared at it for a long moment.

  I hadn’t spoken to him since I had left home last September, a lifetime ago, right after Ben was killed and I was framed for his murder. I had thought about calling countless times, but I never did. What would be the point?

  As I punched in his number, I said a prayer asking that he would listen to what I was going to tell him, no matter how much he hated me.

  CHAPTER 23

  But the phone just rang and rang and rang.

  It didn’t even go to voicemail.

  I didn’t want to think what that meant. Had he changed his number? Had he chucked the phone and what I had once meant to him into the Blackfoot or some other Montana river?

  Was I too late?

  “Hold on, Ty,” I whispered. “I’m on my way. Hold on. I’m coming.”

  CHAPTER 24

  Rachel was waiting for him.

  “My love, I have spoken to Natavius and he has given me his word that he will set your father free.”

  “Oh, Samael. You don’t know what this means to…” Tears spilled down her cheeks as she knelt before him. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “There is no need to thank me,” he said, lifting her up. “It is God’s will. Please, do not cry. I thought you would be happy.”

  “Oh, but I am. I am so happy, Samael!”

  She smiled with the glow of a full moon rising above the horizon.

  “I must take my leave now but I will be back soon, Rachel. And I will bring good news, a surprise. Wait for me.”

  “I will wait forever, Samael. Hurry back to me.”

  They embraced one last time and he was gone.

  A smile tattooed on his soul, Samael sped toward that place beyond time and space, where he would ask permission to take Rachel for his wife. While he waited to see God, Samael told himself again that all would be well. This was a mere formality. Everything about their love was filled with His light. God would surely bless this union between a moral, pious woman and one of His most loyal angels.