“Samael?” a familiar voice said over his shoulder. “It is you, Samael. I never lost faith that we would meet again.”
“Gabriel?”
The archangel’s energy now dwarfed his own and it made Samael’s head hurt just being in his presence.
“Is this your work?” Samael said, pointing down at the city.
“No, I’m just lending a hand. This is mostly John’s doing.”
“John?”
“The Baptist,” Gabriel said.
“I see. He was always a visionary.”
They took in the view in silence for a moment. The Arno flowing through the heart of the city, the Duomo, the piazzas, the Ponte Vecchio, Santa Croce, San Miniato up on a hill, and the lush gardens.
It was all magnificent.
Suddenly the quiet was broken by a loud metallic sound.
Samael turned and raised an eyebrow when he saw Gabriel holding a brass trumpet.
“I am one of God’s most trusted messengers, after all,” Gabriel said. “This might prove useful.”
Samael shrugged.
“The darkness does not seem as strong in you as when last we spoke,” Gabriel said.
“She is something I will never regret, she lives in my heart still, but I know I have much to atone for. I do not even know if it is possible.”
“It is written,” Gabriel said. “‘The Lord our God is merciful and forgiving, even though we have rebelled against him.’ Those words were meant for man but they can apply to angels as well. It will take time, Samael, but if you serve your penance in good faith and humility, I know you will once again feel His grace upon your face.”
“I will pray for the strength,” Samael said. “And the patience.”
“I will add my prayers to yours, brother. Be well and do His work.”
In the days ahead the fallen angel, his powers just a pale shadow of what they once had been, began to look for deeds to perform. He knew he would have to start small. He listened to the prayers of a child, he held the hand of an old dying woman, and he rescued a kitten from a pack of wild dogs.
All that she had taught him was still here, living inside him. The trace of a bittersweet smile crossed his lips at the thought of it.
And then one night something caught his eye.
Samael had visited a cemetery, doing what little he could to console one of the mourners. He stayed there alone after the sun had gone down, lost in thought and the past. After a time he heard the sounds of someone digging.
“Strange,” he thought. “Gravediggers do not do their work at night.”
He went over to the source of the disturbance, where he saw a man removing dirt from one of the graves. Samael watched and waited. With great effort the man lifted a body from its resting place and dragged it away on a cart.
There was something vaguely familiar about the gravedigger. His features and build were different, but Samael soon recognized the energy and the cat eyes, burning in the dark with evil intent.
He followed the man. Not because of any remaining desire for vengeance, but because he sensed that here was another service that he might provide. Perhaps God had even guided him to this place for just such a reason.
“We meet again, Natavius,” Samael whispered. “I shall bear witness to your darkness.”
CHAPTER 35
Road construction and flaggers slowed me down but I still made it to Sugarloaf by late morning. After getting the lay of the land and water, I backtracked to a spot on a beach on the north side of the key under some palm trees, facing the Atlantic, and pulled out the binoculars to test them out. The magnification was solid and if I remained alert, there was no way I would miss the yacht from here.
I stared up at the clouds casting shadows on the water. Anything could happen, but for now they didn’t look menacing, just puffy cotton balls dancing in the sky. The heat was another story. It could bleed you dry of all liquid in a few minutes, the kind of heat that would brown your butter in a flash.
It wasn’t crowded on the beach, just a few people here and there walking along the shoreline, flying kites, or paddling kayaks in the shallow water.
I forced Nathaniel’s face into my mind.
“I’m coming for you,” I said, staring into those eyes.
Before he could answer I hit him with a quick jab that sent him sailing backward. He shot up a moment later and came at me. I ducked out of the way, but took some of the blow on my shoulder.
It was a forced visualization, unlike the others, and it reminded me a little bit of a silly cartoon. But I kept at it anyway, focused and calm as we fought without weapons. I even practiced some of the moves the old man had taught me.
And in the end, Nathaniel Mortimer was dead at my feet.
“I’m ready,” I whispered as I opened my eyes, squinting at the brightness all around. “This is my moment. Don’t cheat me of it, Phil. Bring him here. Bring him to me.”
I had done the work. I had survived the turmoil that had become my life following Ben’s murder. I had learned how to quiet my mind and follow my instincts, how to meditate and visualize. I trained, ran, read, and prayed. I had done everything I could to prepare for this time and place, and even though I still didn’t know the specifics of what I would do, how I could send Nathaniel into oblivion forever, I just knew that I would. I would find a way. I would stop this evil and catapult it back into the abyss where it came from.
When my eyes had adjusted to the glare, I saw a small group of people in the distance, running along the wet sand. As they got closer, they started angling up in my direction.
I swallowed hard and grabbed the pepper spray when I saw the glint coming off their white eyes.
CHAPTER 36
There were five of them, four men and one woman.
They all came at me at once.
Even with my self-defense techniques and new can of pepper spray and new spring-loaded knife, I couldn’t take on all five simultaneously. I had to whittle them down and bring the odds more in my favor.
“Abby,” they called out.
I took off down the beach, hoping that it would space them out.
After a minute I quickly glanced over my shoulder and saw that it had worked. They were spread out behind me, the last one at least a hundred feet back, with only one of them really hanging with me.
I stopped abruptly, turned, and fired the spray at his face.
He screamed and staggered, dropping to one knee. The second one was now within range and I hit him with a long shot of peppery mist. The two men were side by side. They were struggling, but I could tell that they were still possessed and not through with me.
Almost without thinking, I shoved the spray in my pocket and, reaching out with both hands, slammed their heads together. There was a sickening hollow sound as they went down in a heap.
I didn’t have time to check if they were dead or if the darkness had left their bodies. Not with the other three ghouls barreling down on me.
I ran away from them for a while and this time they stayed with me, mimicking my pace. But it was too hot out here. I wouldn’t be able to sustain the speed for long.
I veered toward the water and turned, waiting for the nearest one to reach me. A second later I thrust my knee up hard into the thing’s crotch. The white eyes rolled straight back in its head and it let out a groan before dropping to its knees.
I took off down the beach again.
It was now two on one. One more man and the woman. She was large in a scary way, like a linebacker with 4.3-speed and no regard for whistles or personal foul penalties. Something told me she would be the hardest to deal with. I went after her first.
I picked up a coconut from under a tree and aimed it between her eyes, but I stumbled as I released it and fell down in the sand. The coconut fluttered harmlessly to the woman’s right and in a moment she was on top of me. She pinned my arms to my sides with her knees and started using her powerful hands to choke me.
She squeezed and squeezed until I was sure
she would crush my windpipe. The sky began to grow dark above her head but my oxygen-starved brain still had enough sense to know that it wasn’t because night was falling.
I was seconds away from passing out.
I had to do something fast.
I managed to wrap my fingers around the pepper spray in my pocket. Then I pulled the trigger.
“Did you just pee on me, Abby?” the woman said.
Hoping to distract her further, I followed that up by spitting in her face.
She relaxed her grip, narrowed her eyes, and brought her head down close to me.
“Oh, now you’ve gone and made it personal,” she hissed.
And that’s when I drove my head up to meet hers, like I was trying to score the world’s longest header. I saw the blood shoot out her nose and felt her fingers go limp around my throat, her legs losing their ferocity. I pulled out the Mace and emptied the rest of the spray into her face. She screamed and I pushed her off of me.
When I saw her eyes they were bloodshot, no longer white.
On my knees and coughing, I tried to make sense of it all, grasping at the numbers bouncing around my head.
One down, nine more to go. No, wait. Four down, one to…
I saw the last one coming out of the corner of my eye, but it was too late to do anything about it. He buried his foot into my stomach, lifting me off the ground, and once again I wasn’t getting any air. I rolled over onto my back, not even able to gasp. He closed in for the kill and there was nothing I could do about it.
This is how it ends, I thought.
“Nathaniel sends his regards,” the ghoul said, his cue ball eyes just a foot away.
“Wait… tell him…” I managed to sputter. “Tell him…”
“Tell him what?” he said.
“Tell him I’m coming, asshole!”
In a blur and with the last of my strength I pulled out the knife and drove it into his knee. His cries carried over the beach as he crumbled like a sandcastle in the surf, clutching his leg.
I crawled away while flooding my lungs with air, rubbing at my throat and feeling for damages. I was in a lot of pain, but somehow nothing seemed to be broken.
I got to my feet and looked around.
Scattered over the beach, the five former ghouls were all conscious now, dealing with their own injuries.
I went back over to the last attacker, used his shirt to bandage the wound, and called for an ambulance.
“You’ll be all right,” I said to the man.
“What happened?” He moaned. “Did someone stab me? I can’t remember anything.”
“Lie still now. Help’s on the way.”
Hearing sirens in the distance, I scurried away from the beach and over to where I had left my bike.
CHAPTER 37
I rode to a nearby beach, away from all the commotion and mayhem, and sat looking at the water, waiting for the Fish & Chicks. I was bruised and sore, but I had survived. Truthfully, I had done a little more than just survive. I had taken on five dark spirits and beaten every single one of them.
Samael’s ancient ex-con, Derek, had really come through, teaching me some critical moves that had made the difference between life and death.
I scanned the shoreline. The dark clouds had chased away the tourists and the long strip of sand was empty. It had cleared out, looking like the deserted beach in that Don Henley song.
Except for one lone figure standing near the dock.
When I saw the sunglasses and leather jacket, I was almost glad.
I headed in his direction.
I immediately felt a powerful wave of energy rush over me as I approached. It was coming from Samael. He seemed stronger than he had lately and it threw me for a moment.
“You missed quite a fight,” I said. “There were five of them this time.”
He didn’t answer. He was facing the ocean and I turned to see what he was looking at. There was a boat in the distance. I pulled out the binoculars from my pack but it was still too far away to be sure.
“I think Nathaniel might be on that yacht,” I said.
Again Samael didn’t say anything and if I didn’t know him like I did I might have wondered if he was holding a grudge.
“I’m actually glad you’re here, Samael. A lot has happened since this morning. On my way out of town I saw Si—”
And that’s when he struck.
He came at me with all the force of a runaway train, flying through the air and tackling me, burying me in the sand. I could feel the life ebbing from my body.
He leaned over and slipped off his sunglasses, staring at me with dark eyes.
“Why, Samael?” I whispered. “Why?”
CHAPTER 38
I was struggling for air, my hands bound together, face pressed against the rubber floor.
I hadn’t seen it coming.
I had looked the other way at the signs that clearly pointed to Samael’s true nature and, in so doing, wasted my chance to stop Nathaniel.
The hollowness of my failure echoed inside me like the sound of the motor as the small boat rode the waves.
CHAPTER 39
I don’t know how long I was out or whether it was because of Samael’s blow or from some drug they gave me, but I woke with the light coming in through a porthole window.
I had to be on the yacht.
My arms and legs were tied to the small bed where I was lying. My weapons were gone and so were all my clothes.
I raised my head and looked around and saw my backpack hanging on a hook behind the door.
I also saw that I wasn’t alone.
A man was on another bed across the way. His eyes were closed and I could only make out part of his face, but something about him was familiar. The shattered camera on the floor next to him provided the only clue I needed to realize that it was the photographer I had seen on the dock.
“Wake up,” I whispered. “Hey, wake up.”
He groaned but remained unconscious.
I struggled to loosen the knots around my wrists and ankles, but it was no use. The more I fought the rope, the tighter its grip became.
Not again, I thought.
A moment later I heard the knob turn.
When I looked over I saw Phil standing there in the doorway, smiling.
CHAPTER 40
“Very nice,” he said slowly, his small eyes lingering over my naked body. “Very nice.”
I squirmed and tried the ropes again, every muscle straining, feeling the strands cut into my skin but nothing more.
“You were always a fighter, Abby.” He ran his tongue over his lips, the beads of sweat on his forehead swelling, and I suddenly wanted to vomit. “Don’t worry. You’ll get a chance to fight later. Not that it’ll do you any good.”
The only good thing about the situation was that my mind was clear. My senses were as sharp as the revulsion I felt. I hadn’t been drugged. I had to somehow use that to my advantage. I had to summon all I had learned at the monastery and remain calm and focused on the goal.
Phil gave me another long creepy look before turning toward the photographer. He shook the man awake.
“Andy, it’s time,” he said, helping him to his feet.
“Where are you taking him?” I shouted.
“You’ll see.”
CHAPTER 41
I heard screams coming from the deck.
A few minutes later Phil returned.
“You’re needed topside,” he said coming toward me. “Now, I’m going to untie you. Unless you want to become shark food, I suggest you play it cool.”
While he was gone I had been scanning the room, without any luck, for something, anything, I could use to defend myself. I still had my hands and feet and the skills that Derek had taught me, but I decided against that for the time being. I just hoped I would get another chance.
Phil cut me loose using my knife, gruffly pulled me off the bed, and spun me away from him.
“Here,” he said, tossing
me something. “You can put this on. Though personally I would prefer it if you didn’t.”
I quickly tied on the bikini top and bottom before he grabbed me from behind. I could feel his breath on my neck.
“Come on,” he said, guiding me toward the door. “The lab rat’s waiting.”
We went down a hall and then up a set of circular steps, Phil’s hand a vise around my arm.
A few seconds later we were standing on one of the decks, where a small group was gathered. I counted six people, including Simon and the middle-aged woman I had seen that morning, but there might have been more below.
And then I saw the photographer.
He was inside a shark cage.
When he saw me he started screaming again.
“Help! Help me, please! Help!”
When Simon looked over in my direction, I tried to reach him with my eyes and communicate something to the person I used to know. But he stared right through me without blinking.
“I think we’re all here,” Phil said, looking around.
“Yes, we are now,” a voice behind me said.
Nathaniel.
I turned and saw him standing there, as real as when he was alive, even more lifelike than he had been in the library vision.
“Hello, Abigail. Glad you could join us. You know Phil and Simon, of course. And this is Dr. Nina Gruber, our head of research.”
I fought the urge to break free and jump overboard. How far would I get? Where would I go? The shore appeared to be about ten miles away, maybe farther. But even if I could somehow swim the distance and battle the waves and currents, they wouldn’t just stand there. They would be on me like a shark.
I had to think of something else.
I looked around, searching for something I could use as a weapon.
There was a large wrench about ten feet away, not far from the shark cage, but two of the men were standing right next to it.
“I hope I… I mean, your angel Samael wasn’t too rough on you back there,” Nathaniel said, coming over to me. “But you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Forty-Four Book Thirteen (44 13) Page 9