The Belial Origins

by R. D. Brady

  “Did you notice his eyes?” Laney asked.

  Jake shook his head. “Wasn’t really a priority at the moment.”

  “I know. It’s just—” Laney hesitated. “I saw them. And they were pitch black.”

  Henry frowned. “So he had dark eyes. I don’t get the significance.”

  Laney pictured Fuld’s eyes again. She was confident in what she had seen. “No. Not dark. There was absolutely no white in them. None at all.”

  “It must have been a trick of the light,” Jake said.

  “That’s what I thought at first.”

  Laney picked up the journal she had brought in with her and turned to the page she had marked. She turned it around so Henry and Jake could see. The man in the picture was undeniably Fuld. Everything was the same, right down to the haircut. The only difference was the style of clothes.

  And in the drawing, his eyes were pure black.

  Henry looked at Laney. “Are all the pictures like this?”

  Patrick nodded slowly. “Usually his eyes are covered. But when they’re not, this is how they’re depicted. Without fail.”

  “Is there any medical condition that can account for that? Some genetic mutation?” Henry asked.

  Laney shook her head. “Not that I could find. The only way to get completely black eyes, including the sclera, is through black contacts.”

  “And I’m guessing we don’t think Jorgen was wearing contacts,” Jake said.

  “I can’t see him going through the pageantry of black lenses, especially seeing as he wears those sunglasses all the time,” Laney said. “I think his eyes are real.”

  “In the books, he’s sometimes referred to as the Shepherd,” Patrick said. “The Shepherd” was the name he went by when he instructed Nathaniel Grayston to kidnap potential nephilim and Fallen a few months ago.

  “How far back do the references go?” Jake asked.

  “Same as Victoria. Back to the first journal we have—twelfth century.”

  “So is he immortal?” Jake asked, disbelief lacing his words.

  Laney shrugged. “Either he’s immortal, or he has a really, really strong genetic line.”

  “Well, seeing as everyone at the airport was trying to avoid shooting him, I’m not surprised he’s lived this long,” Jake said.

  Patrick went still. “What did you say?”

  Jake looked at Patrick. “At the airport, no one shot at him. Bullets were flying all over the place, but it seemed like everyone was intentionally trying to avoid hitting him.”

  “Are you sure?” Patrick asked.

  Henry and Jake exchanged a look before Henry spoke. “Actually, when Jake and I went back over the footage, we realized one shooter—one of Jorgen’s own men—did get him, although apparently it was accidental. And then that shooter was shot.”

  “How many times was the shooter hit?” Patrick asked, his eyes intent.

  “Seven times,” Jake said slowly. “But actually he wasn’t shot by bullets.”

  “What?” Three sets of eyes turned to Jake.

  Jake put up his hands. “It was strange. I asked the M.E. to check again, which is why I didn’t tell you guys. When the M.E. opened him up, there were no bullets—just wounds. And there was no path for the bullets to have followed. The M.E. said it was like the wounds just appeared. But the M.E. must have made a mistake.”

  During Jake’s speech, Laney had kept her eyes on her uncle. With each word Jake spoke, Patrick had gotten paler and paler. “Uncle Patrick?”

  “I’m sure I’m wrong,” he began.

  Everyone went still. Those words were always followed by some insight that the rest of them had missed. And Patrick was always right on target.

  “Who is he, Uncle Patrick?” Laney asked quietly.

  Patrick swallowed. “I can’t be sure.”

  “Uncle Patrick,” she said, a warning in her tone. She knew he would want to check and re-check before saying anything, but with Victoria in danger, they didn’t have the time for that.

  Patrick pulled out a chair and all but fell into it. He looked exhausted, but his eyes were bright. “The man that shot Jorgen was shot himself seven times—sevenfold the injury he created. And his eyes are black as night, something that would stop anyone in their tracks.”

  Recognition tickled the back of Laney’s mind. Sevenfold. She’d heard that before. She gasped as the reference hit her. Her gaze flew to her uncle.

  He nodded at her. “I think Jorgen Fuld is Cain.”

  CHAPTER 21

  Little Rock, Arkansas

  Victoria paced the room. What was going on? Jorgen hadn’t been to visit her since that first time. Men had dropped off food, but none of them would speak to her. She had no TV, and it was made clear that she was not allowed out of her room.

  Victoria stopped, her hands on her hips. The lack of information was driving her crazy. She looked at the door. I wonder how far they’re allowed to go to keep me here.

  She was pretty sure Jorgen had put a do not kill order out. And she still had a few tricks up her sleeve that might make this interesting.

  Images of Laney and Henry flashed through her mind. There was no doubt they were trying to find her now. She shuddered, imagining them going up against Jorgen without knowing who he was. They’d be killed.

  She couldn’t let that happen.

  I think it’s time to find out exactly what orders Jorgen has given his men.

  But just as Victoria strode across the room, the door opened. She came to an abrupt stop.

  Jorgen stepped inside. “Let me guess. You’ve decided you’d rather chance physical injury to yourself rather than have anyone, particularly your two children, suffer harm in trying to rescue you.”

  Victoria glared but stayed silent.

  Jorgen chuckled. “I keep telling you, Mother, I know you better than anyone.”

  “And I keep telling you, I am not your Mother.”

  Jorgen closed the door behind him. “We will still have to agree to disagree on that one. So, how are you enjoying your stay?”

  “I’m not.”

  Jorgen glanced around. “Hmm. I’ll have the men drop in some books. Give you something to do to pass the time. I know how you hate to be bored.”

  “Why are you here?”

  Jorgen raised an eyebrow. “Maybe I just wanted to spend some time with you.”

  Victoria crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him.

  Jorgen sighed. “Very well. I have to take a little trip.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Don’t concern yourself. I’ll be back soon.” He laughed. “Of course, you’re not really worried about my welfare, are you?”

  “Not particularly.”

  Jorgen’s face clouded. “You could show me a little respect.”

  “I could,” she agreed with a shrug. “But I’m not going to.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You truly think the punishment fits the crime? You really think it’s fair that I’ve spent my long life paying for an action I committed eons ago?”

  She looked him straight in the eye. “Why not? After all, I’m still paying for an action I committed eons ago as well.”

  “But your punishment was your own choice, wasn’t it? And besides, it’s not exactly the same as mine, now is it? In fact, I think a case could be made that you are responsible for many more deaths than I am. Why, some could say you’re responsible for all deaths.”

  Victoria stared at the man she had known longer than any other. She shook her head. “We’ve had this debate more times than I can count. And we’ve never reached a resolution.”

  “And I suppose we never will,” Jorgen said a little wistfully. “I know you think I’m joking or playing with words, but I’m not. You and I have known each other longer than anyone; you are my family.”

  Victoria looked at the man she had known as a boy; the man she had seen lifetime after lifetime. She thought of countering his statement, but in her heart, she knew what
he meant. “I know.”

  Surprise flashed across Jorgen’s face, and for just a moment, Victoria saw him vulnerable. But then his defenses slammed back into place. Jorgen took a step back. “Well, anyway, it’s time for me to go.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To remedy a problem. You and I are similar, but we are not the same. I am unique, and I intend to stay that way.”

  CHAPTER 22

  He’s Cain. The words reverberated around Laney’s mind. No. No way.

  “Cain, from Cain and Abel? That’s not possible, right?” Jake looked around. No one answered him.

  Henry sat down across from Patrick. “Maybe you could explain that?”

  Patrick folded his hands in front of him. “In the Bible, Cain and Abel were the sons of Adam and Eve, as I’m sure you all know. Cain was the firstborn, but Abel was the favored son. And Cain was jealous. One day, they both brought sacrifices to God. For Abel, it was his prized cattle. For Cain, it was part of what he had grown from the ground. Apparently God was pleased with Abel’s offering and not pleased with Cain’s. A short time later, Cain killed Abel.”

  “Over jealousy?” Henry asked.

  “Well, that’s the Genesis and Quran accounts,” Patrick said. “There are folklore stories that suggest the fight was actually over who each brother was to marry. Apparently, Cain wanted to marry his twin. But she was promised to Abel. Cain, however, thought his twin was the more beautiful of the two sisters. Their father, Adam, sent them to provide an offering to God to let God determine how to resolve the issue. Abel brought his best offering and Cain brought his worst. God of course sided with Abel, and then Cain killed Abel.”

  “And then Cain was punished?” Jake asked.

  “He was banished. Doomed to walk the world for eternity, but never to be within God’s sight,” Laney said.

  “All for killing his brother?” Jake asked.

  “Well, you have to understand, Cain was the first murderer. I suppose he was the one to make an example of,” Patrick said.

  “Jorgen calls himself the Shepherd,” Henry said softly.

  Laney nodded. “I suppose he’s taking his brother’s identity.”

  “You think he felt what? Remorse?” Jake asked.

  Patrick shrugged. “It’s possible. In one story, Cain was so distraught over what he had done, he walked around carrying his brother’s body until he no longer could.”

  Laney shivered at the image Patrick’s words conjured up.

  “But that still doesn’t explain why you think Jorgen is Cain,” Henry said.

  Laney pictured Jorgen’s eyes. It hadn’t been a trick of the light. She looked at her uncle. “His eyes.”

  Patrick nodded. “When God doled out Cain’s punishment, Cain beseeched Him to reconsider. Cain said everyone who saw him would try to kill him. As a result, God placed a mark on him that would warn everyone to keep their distance. God also ensured that anyone who touched Cain would receive the same damage in return, sevenfold.”

  “You think his eyes are the mark,” Henry said.

  “The Bible never described what the mark looked like,” Patrick said. “Scholars have struggled to figure out what it could be. But the problem with all the suggestions is that they tend to be culturally specific. A tattoo, for instance, could have one meaning in one culture and a completely different meaning in another. A scar or a disfigurement could warn people away in most cultures, but in some cultures it would actually encourage people to attack him.”

  Laney once again pictured those black eyes. There was no man who saw those eyes who would not at least hesitate. “The mark had to be something that would stop even the most hardened man in his tracks.”

  They all fell silent. Finally Jake broke the silence. “Okay. But why make him immortal? How is that a punishment?”

  Patrick frowned. “I’m not sure. According to the Bible, Cain was ‘banished from God’s sight.’ Perhaps that meant he could never leave this earth—he had to be trapped here forever.”

  Laney stared at her uncle and tried not to shudder. Perhaps she had become desensitized to violence because of how much she had seen, both personally and on the news, but having to pay for one’s crime for eternity… it seemed awfully severe.

  “So we can’t hurt him?” Jake asked.

  Patrick shook his head. “Not without receiving the same injury back sevenfold.”

  Laney shook her head. How were they going to combat an enemy they couldn’t fight? That they couldn’t even touch?

  She looked over at Henry. His brow was furrowed, and he’d been awfully quiet for the last few minutes. “Henry?”

  “You don’t think…” Henry broke off, his face troubled.

  “What?” Laney asked, her concern beginning to rise.

  Henry met her gaze. “If Jorgen is Cain, do you think there’s any chance that Mom is… Eve?”

  CHAPTER 23

  Laney’s head felt like it was going to spin off her shoulders. Eve? Jorgen as Cain she could almost buy—even if the idea was insane. But this…

  Jake turned to Patrick. “Was Eve immortal?”

  Patrick shook his head. “No, not according to the Bible. But I’ll check some other sources.” He frowned.

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing. I—” Patrick shook his head. “Nothing. I’ll see if maybe I’ve—”

  Dom ran in, his words coming out in pants. “You have to see this.” He turned on the TV in the corner. A breaking news story was splashed across the screen.

  “…dible situation in the suburbs of Little Rock. A neighbor caught most of the shootout on their cell phone. We’re about to play the uninterrupted video. But be warned, the tape is very graphic.”

  Everyone at the table went silent, their attention focused on the screen. A feeling of dread settled over Laney. Her uncle stepped next to her and took her hand.

  On screen, a teenager walked around a shiny red car. Off screen a voice said, “Yeah, that’s my baby.”

  “Nice,” the kid by the car said. Then his head jerked up. “What’s that?”

  “What? I don’t hear anything.”

  “Shush, listen.” A faint popping noise could be heard. “Is that gunfire?”

  A window blew out of a house two houses down and across the street. The image wobbled. “Holy shit!”

  The camera operator ran closer and took cover behind the car as two men with guns ran out the door of the house. More gunshots could be heard; it appeared that someone inside the house was firing at them. Then three more men appeared at the door. No—Laney squinted. Not just three men. Someone was caught in between the three.

  Laney felt her jaw fall open when she saw the splash of white hair. Victoria. Two of the men turned and threw something inside the house, then they forced Victoria quickly away from the building. Seconds later, two explosions blew out every window in the house.

  “Mom,” Henry whispered.

  The men hustled Victoria into a waiting van and tore off down the street, away from the camera. A few seconds passed with no movement. Then the video stopped.

  The screen shifted back to the newscasters. “The men in the van have yet to be identified. If anyone has any—”

  Jake stood up. “I’ll see what I can find out.” He walked away, already dialing someone on his phone.

  Laney just sat staring at the now-muted screen. What had just happened?

  “I’ve got it,” Dom called.

  Laney shook off her shock and walked over to Dom, who was leaning over a laptop. “Got what?”

  “The cell phone recording. I’ve got it as clean as I can make it. It’s actually not a bad picture for a cell phone. The quality has really been increasing ever since—”

  “Dom,” Henry said, his frustration evident.

  Dom put up a hand. “Right, sorry, sorry.”

  Laney watched the gun battle play out again. “Close in on the woman with the white hair.”

  Dom did, and a second later, they had a c
lose-up of Victoria.

  Laney’s breath hitched. Patrick grabbed her hand. “It’ll be okay, honey.”

  Henry pointed to one of the men who had left the house before Victoria. “Dom, zoom in on this guy.”

  Dom shifted the focus of the shot, and Laney felt her world tilt.

  “What the hell?”

  They had a perfect close-up of Gerard Thompson.

  CHAPTER 24

  Little Rock, Arkansas

  Jorgen watched the last police van leave. The neighborhood was quiet. He nodded to the driver. “Time to go.”

  The driver pulled smoothly into the street. Jorgen looked at the destruction that had been caused to the little house. A giant gaping hole, burnt at the edges, dominated the first floor. Bullet holes dotted the rest of the home. The front door had been blow off.

  Jorgen smiled.

  His driver continued maneuvering through the streets until he pulled onto the 440. A few minutes later, they were at the private airfield not far from the Bill and Hillary Clinton National Airport.

  Jorgen exited the car before his chauffeur had a chance to open the door. His head of security—a former military man with a barrel chest, white hair, and handlebar mustache—jogged over and came to an abrupt stop in front of him. Jorgen had hired legions of men for jobs over the years. But Sean Tidwell had managed to survive every purge—like the one at the house.

  “Report?” Jorgen asked.

  “All went as planned, sir. The Fallen captured Victoria and took her with them.”

  Jorgen smiled. “Excellent. The cleanup?”

  “Complete, sir. Most of the men at the house were taken care of by the Fallen. There were three left alive, but they’ve been handled.”

  “Good. Let’s move on to stage two.”

  Tidwell gave Jorgen a sharp nod and headed for the hangar. Jorgen dismissed the man from his thoughts. Tidwell was one of thousands of men he’d known throughout his life. Each was no different than the next.

  Jorgen climbed the stairs to the plane. He nodded at the stewardess waiting for him. “A gin and tonic.”