by Janean Worth
Chapter Seven
Lucien watched Bella flee down the sidewalk in front of him. He let her get fairly far away from him. He wasn’t walking quickly and he wasn’t going to rush to catch up. He knew where she was going. There was only one place she could go. A woman like her would scurry back to her apartment, where she felt safe. And he lived in the same building, so there was no need for him to hurry at all.
He smirked as he watched her retreating back, unable to believe that it had been true, what the others told him. There were people in the world with strange gifts like his. People who could see things that they weren’t supposed to be able to see, and hear things that they weren’t supposed to be able to hear.
That first day, nearly a week before, when he’d seen Bella, he’d merely found her beautiful and irresistible. Her unusual, entrancing beauty had been what had attracted his attention. As soon as he’d seen her, he’d known. The first glance had been enough for him to set plans in motion so that he could add her to his collection of beautiful things. He hadn’t known that she had been gifted with abilities, too. He hadn’t known that she was like him. It was all almost too perfect.
He’d thought they’d been lying when they’d come to him and told him their story. The Quislings, they called themselves. What a stupid moniker. Lucien snorted in derision, ignoring the weird look that the woman sharing his piece of sidewalk tossed his way.
She was slender, blonde, and mildly attractive, but she was no Bella. He dismissed her without another thought. She was meaningless. But Bella. Bella was . . . everything. She was so stunning, so extremely beautiful, that he just had to have her for his own. She’d make a fine wife for him.
He allowed himself to gloat just a little. Bella didn’t know that she would soon become his wife. But he did. And, for the moment, that was enough.
After realizing that Bella had seen the red‑eyed shadow also, he knew that anything was possible. Evil, true evil, really did exist, though it seemed beyond the comprehension of most people and only viewable to a few gifted individuals. This knowledge gave him a great sense of power. It opened up a whole new dimension of possibilities. Until Bella had acknowledged seeing the shadow as it tormented Mr. Bouthar, he hadn’t been sure that he’d actually been seeing them himself. But now he knew that they were real. And, what was even better, he now knew that he could influence Bella’s thoughts if he tried, too.
She’d seen his wolfish mask during their ride together in the elevator. She’s seen the hunger he’d projected. He knew that she had.
And he almost couldn’t believe that she’d seen the shadow feeding off of Mr. Bouthar’s emotions, too. It was a piece of good luck that he hadn’t expected.
No one else, except the Quislings, had ever claimed to be able to see the red‑eyed shadows.
Quislings. He scoffed again. What a stupid name for an organization that they claimed was so great and powerful. It sounded like some sort of weird, cultish nickname—one picked by a teenage boy addicted to MMO games.
He knew what it meant, because they’d told him. And, it did seem appropriate. A quisling was a traitor who collaborated with an enemy force occupying their country. And that was exactly what their organization did. It collaborated with evil to overthrow good. And, if the Quislings’ plans came to fruition, they’d collaborate well enough that they’d eventually drive out spiritual goodness completely. All those do-gooder Christians. All those people seeking His face. Gone. And Lucien wouldn’t miss them.
Lucien rolled his eyes. God had never done him any favors. But evil had. Since he’d begun developing his odd talents and he’d learned how to use them for his own purposes, he’d achieved considerable financial gains. And other gains, too.
It had been almost too easy to get the open position at the cell phone store when he’d decided that he wanted it. He’d been hired on the spot, without even having an interview.
He’d been strolling down the sidewalk when he’d looked into the cell phone store and had seen Bella. Bella the Beautiful—once they were married, she wouldn’t be able to stop him from calling her by the nickname he’d given her when he’d first seen her. He’d known immediately, of course, that he had to have her. He wanted to own her, possess her, dominate her.
And so he’d gone inside and had suggested, mentally, that Mr. Bouthar should hire him. And he’d been hired immediately, and had started the same day. By lunch, he’d been talking to his sweet Bella.
He’d gotten his new apartment, in that most coveted of buildings, the same way. He’d only had to strongly suggest that the fine, upstanding landlords needed to rent the apartment to him, and that no, they didn’t need to check his references or background, and they had agreed instantly. No questions asked. No deposit. And, he grinned, remembering, no rent payments, either.
And, using his talents, he’d gotten rid of Bella’s fiancé, too. He hadn’t been sure he’d be able to influence the man’s thoughts, or stoke his anger through the barrier of the apartment door, but he had given it a try. He’d had no idea that it would work so well. Bella’s fiancé must have been very, very angry deep inside. And now he was gone, leaving Bella free to marry Lucien.
Yes, life was looking up since he’d started to show these strange abilities.
On a whim, he decided to test them further, wondering just how far he could push his will upon others.
He stopped on the sidewalk and looked around.
Seeing a young mother walking close by, pushing a stroller, he approached her.
“Hi,” he said, smiling.
“Hello,” she answered, looking wary.
“I want all of your money and credit cards. And your baby. And I want you to give them all to me, with no questions asked.”
She looked startled at his suggestions, then horrified. She started to shake her head and back away, but he caught her gaze and stared into her eyes.
You will do as I have asked. You will do it now. Give me your money and your baby.
Lucien knew that a mother’s instincts were nearly primal in their strength. No mother would willingly give up her baby to a stranger. This would be the ultimate test of his control.
The woman looked pained, but she opened her purse, took out her wallet, and handed it to him.
“Now the baby.”
Give me the baby.
With a sob, she reluctantly reached down and removed her child from the stroller.
“I don’t know why I’m doing this. Why am I doing this?” the woman whispered fearfully. “I don’t want to do this. Why am I doing this?”
A huge shadow rose up out of the sidewalk, grinning. It reached for the woman and she shuddered.
Crying, tears tracking silently down her cheeks, she handed Lucien the baby.
He took the child, feeling a thrill of victory run through him. If he could convince a mother to give up her own child, what couldn’t he do?
He grinned as the baby began to cry. The mother did not ask for her child back; she simply stood there, looking lost, the shadow clutching her entire head in its massive hands.
Lucien stared at the shadow, unafraid. “Are you helping me, or am I doing this on my own?”
It didn’t answer.
The baby screamed louder.
Lucien smiled wider.
“Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name . . .” a strong voice said from behind him.
At the sound of the words, three things happened simultaneously.
Lucien immediately felt the power being stripped from his compulsion upon the woman; she gasped and reached out to snatch her baby from his arms, and the shadow disappeared, without even a puff of smoke to signal its passing.
Incensed, Lucien turned to face the owner of the voice.
A middle-aged woman, graying around the temples but still beautiful, stood a few feet from him. Her hands were on her hips, an expression of challenge on her face.
“Begone with you,” the woman said. “I will tolerate none of your
kind stealing babies from their mothers.”
“One of my kind?” he asked, arrogantly. “And just what kind is that?”
“A Quisling,” the woman hissed, distaste written clearly upon her face.
“I haven’t joined them yet.” Lucien asserted.
“Oh, but you are thinking about it, I can tell,” she said.
“And who are you?” Lucien asked, unperturbed by her assumption. She could think what she liked.
“You know who I am,” she said. “I am a soldier in God’s army. I seek only to do His will and help others.”
Lucien smirked, shocked that the Quislings had actually told him another truth. Perhaps it was time that he started trusting them after all.
“Ah, so the Invisibles that they spoke of are real, too. Interesting,” Lucien said, staring her down.
He caught her gaze and thought, you will now bow down before me and kiss my feet.
The woman laughed.
“As if that paltry trick will work on me, Quisling.”
Lucien frowned. Was she somehow immune to his new abilities?
“Leave. Now. And trouble that woman and her child no more,” the woman demanded.
“And if I don’t? What will you do?”
The woman gave him a smile. “Me? I will do nothing. It is the Lord’s power that you have to worry about.”
Lucien snorted. “Sure.”
“You don’t believe in His power?” she asked.
He just glared at her.
“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, for the Lord is my shepherd . . .” the woman began to recite.
For a moment, Lucien felt nothing. And then a strange tingling began in his mind, at the exact spot that he thought of as the center of his strange abilities.
He tried to impose his will upon her again, glaring into her eyes, nearly shouting commands inside his head, but the power of his abilities would not come.
He stared, feeling a fission of fear. Had her words taken his powers?
He backed away, the fear turning to a strange kind of panic. What if he didn’t get them back? He was just getting used to them. She couldn’t take them from him now. He needed them.
“Stop what you are doing,” he said, annoyed that his own voice sounded so afraid.
To his consternation, she stopped, immediately. And then she smiled sadly at him.
“His words have power, and so does prayer. If you truly have not yet joined the Quislings, then you still have a chance. Do not join with them. Cease using your gifts for evil, and come with me. We will help you adapt.” The woman held out her hand.
Lucien stared at it for a moment, and then he spat upon her upturned palm and turned to stalk away. He didn’t need her help to adapt. He didn’t need anyone’s help. He knew what he was doing, and he had his plans well under way. He scowled as he stalked toward Bella’s apartment. Who did the woman think she was, anyway?