Shades of Blood and Darkness (Templar Chronicles Missions eNovella #1)

by Nassise, Joseph

  *** ***

  The safe house was located in a quiet, residential neighbourhood on the south side of town. A thick stretch of woods occupied the right hand side of the street, while several older homes occupied the left. Cade had Olsen drive down the street slowly, occasionally using his high beams to illuminate the house numbers painted on the sides of the mailboxes before moving on again. To the casual observer, it would look as if the men in the car were looking for a particular address. In reality, Cade and Riley were using the time to study the target property, noting entry and egress routes and watching for motion behind the darkened windows that faced out onto the street.

  After passing the house once and not finding anything obviously amiss, Olsen drove around the block and pull over to the side of the road in the shadows beneath a large oak, where Cade and Riley slipped out of the vehicle.

  The night was dark, the sky above covered with a thick curtain of heavy storm clouds and the rise of the moon still a half hour away. That would help them in their effort to remain concealed. Keeping to the shadows, the two men made their way back down the block until they were hidden in the woods directly opposite the front door of the safe house. Cade clicked his mike twice, giving the signal that they were in position. A moment later Olsen came back down the street in the Explorer and parked along the curb in front of the house. He flipped on the interior light and pretended to study a map.

  His companions watched the house carefully, looking for any reaction to Olsen' presence, but none came.

  So far, so good.

  Cade clicked his mike again.

  Upon receiving the signal, Olsen turned off the interior light and exited the vehicle, the map held in his left hand, leaving his right hand, his weapon hand, free. He walked up the path leading to the front door and rang the doorbell. The plan called for him to ask for directions to the airport if someone answered the door, while Cade and Riley covered him from the street. If no one answered, Olsen would signal to the others and they would advance on the house themselves, at which point they would enter the home with the key Bishop had previously sent to them.

  Cade watched tensely as Olsen headed up the walk. This was the dangerous part of the plan; if Olsen was attacked and dragged inside the house before the others could get to him, he would be on his own with his companions locked outside, unable to help.

  Olsen waited a moment after ringing the bell and then, after receiving no answer, rang it again. When it went unanswered the second time, he stepped off the front steps, checked the street one time to be certain no one unexpected was watching, and then walked around the side of the house, headed for the rear.

  Cade and Riley crossed the street and found him waiting at the back door of the house, key in hand. The two men moved into position and Cade signaled for Olsen to go ahead and open it up.

  Inside, the house was dark. The three of them fanned out and cleared the structure room by room, but found no sign of Bishop. They returned to the kitchen and with the help of their flashlights checked it over for a note or other communication from their missing teammate. The refrigerator and shelves were stocked with food and several city maps lay on the coffee table in the living room next to the briefcase containing Bishop's communications equipment, evidence that he had been here, but that was all.

  There were no clues as to what had happened to him.

  Or where he was now.

  They were going to have to check out the church.

  *** ***

  The St. Margaret Catholic Church occupied a small, half-forgotten lot sandwiched between two abandoned tenements. It was made of brick that had long lost its newness, coated as it was by the dust and grime of the city. A small, squat rectory was attached to it by a short covered walkway. A broken-down chain link fence surrounded the property. Here and there small piles of wind-blown trash could be seen trapped up against the fence in the light of the now risen moon.

  Cade parked the Explorer along the curb in front of the grounds and the three of them got out. The streets were quiet, hushed even, as if the buildings around them were holding their breath, waiting to see what these intruders would do in their domain. Cade could feel the electrical tension that comes from being watched, but couldn't identify were the feeling was coming from.

  They pushed open the gate and made their way over to the church entrance. Once they drew close, they were able to see that the heavy, oak doors of the sanctuary were left partially open. Considering the neighborhood, it was a clear sign that all was not right here.

  They entered the church like it was hostile territory.

  Riley shoved open the door and let his companions slip inside before taking up a position behind them. Stretching out before them was a large central aisle that extended to the altar fifty feet ahead and divided two sets of pews into equal parts, with aisles stretching down the outside of each section against the walls. On either side of the altar, two small wings formed the horizontal axis of the cross and stretched out of sight. The building was shaped like a cross and the team had entered at its base. The interior was semi-dark, lit only by the soft breath of moonlight that was streaming in through the four windows that were evenly spaced along the left hand wall. The red beams of their laser sights danced about in the semi-darkness like the lights at a rock concert before swiftly coming to rest on the body that had been left lying across the altar at the front of the church.

  Making certain that the building was clear was the first priority, however, and so the body would have to wait. Without a word, Riley moved to the left-hand aisle and Olsen moved to the right. Cade waited until they were in position and then gave the hand signal for them to advance simultaneously toward the altar. This would allow them to provide fire support to each other while at the same time make use of the wooden pews as cover should it prove necessary.

  They made it to the foot of the altar without incident. Riley and Olsen circled the outer wings without finding anything out of the ordinary before rejoining Cade at the apex of the central aisle. Only at that point, once they were satisfied that they were alone, did the three of them advance on the body lying on the altar.

  The man was dressed in the black casual clothing and white clerical collar of a Catholic priest. One leg was draped over the front of the altar, the other hung over the side, bent at the knee. The priest's hands were arranged on his chest with an antique wooden crucifix clasped upright between them.

  If it hadn't been for the condition of his skin and face, you might have almost been able to believe he was sleeping, Cade thought idly. Of course there was no way you'd ever make that mistake once you'd gotten a close look at what had been done to him.

  Had the man spent the last two hundred years baking in the Arizona deserts, he couldn't have looked any more drained of substance than he did now. The skin of his face was stretched tightly over his skull, as if the flesh beneath had been sucked away, leaving just the thinnest barrier between the air and bone. A quick glance down at the man's hands let Cade know the condition extended there as well and from that Cade guessed that it extended across his entire body. The man's eyes were gone, the empty sockets staring at the ceiling far above. From the position of the man's jaw, it looked like his mouth was frozen open in a silent scream, but the several strips of grey duct tape that were wrapped around his lower face made it difficult to tell for certain.

  Olsen was the first to speak.

  "Vamps!" he cried, using the common name for something that was in truth far more vicious than the blood-sucking monsters immortalized by Bram Stoker's Dracula. “I knew it! I just knew it! Every time you think you've rooted out the last of them, another batch shows up in their place."

  "Ch'iang shih," Cade corrected softly, using the proper name for the Chinese creatures, but he agreed with the general sentiment. If the blood cult they had supposedly been called in to investigate actually turned out to be a pack of Ch'iang Shih, he and his team were in for a nasty fight in the not so distant future.

  Whi
le his team had never had to face this particular supernatural menace, he had been thoroughly briefed in the past. He did his best now to recall what he had been told.

  Also known as the Gui Ren, or Demon People, they were some of the fiercest supernatural creatures ever encountered by the Templars. They had their origins in China and were routinely seen throughout Central and Southeast Asia, but they had rarely been encountered here in the States. According to Asian tradition, they are formed when an individual has an outstanding karmic debt that must be paid, a debt so enormous that it prevents the soul from moving onward through the Great Cycle and forces the body to rise again from death. More often than not, the higher, rational aspect of the soul, the Hun, becomes dormant, leaving the P'o, or the lower, bestial aspect of the soul, in control of the resurrected creature. Neither truly living nor dead, the Ch'iang shih are creatures without Chi, the essence of life, and therefore must constantly steal it from the living in order to sustain their existence while they seek to redeem their debt and rejoin the Great Cycle.

  The drained, lifeless husk that is left behind after such a theft had become the Ch'iang shih's signature the world over. No other creature left such evidence of its passing in their wake, making them easily identifiable for hunters like Cade's team.

  Identifying them was the easy part.

  Finding and defeating them was another matter entirely.

  Leaving Olsen on guard, Riley and Cade did a more thorough search of the church, looking for anything that might indicate what had happened to the missing advance team, Bishop, or the church staff.

  After an hour of searching, they came up empty-handed.

  Which left the body itself and the need for more drastic measures.

  Cade bent over and examined the corpse on the altar before him. The priest had clearly been middle-aged; his thinning gray hair and liver spotted skin gave evidence to that. A close look at the shrunken flesh of the right side of his face revealed a large bruise. The black cloth of his shirt and pants was ripped and tattered in certain places, mainly about the arms and lower legs.

  Cade removed his gloves and placed them in his pocket. He checked to be certain his men had control of the situation, receiving a nod of confirmation from each of them, and then turned back to face the altar.

  It was time to go to work.

  There was no way Cade was going to use his Talent on the body itself. The priest had no doubt suffered greatly at the hands of the Ch'iang shih and Cade had no desire to relive any of that experience, not like that. Instead, he was going to take a reading from the surface of the altar itself, in the hopes that it would filter enough of the horror out of the encounter to allow him to understand just what had happened here.

  Cade took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for the task ahead. Using his Talent was never easy. It physically drained him of energy at an alarming rate, leaving him weak and disoriented for several long minutes afterward. The need to constantly guard against being overwhelmed by another's thoughts and emotions made it mentally demanding as well. Staying immersed too long in the flow made it difficult for him to regain his own identity, and though he had never tested the theory for obvious reasons, Cade believed that his physical form could be affected by what he was seeing through his Gift as well.

  When he was ready, he reached out and laid his palms flat on the altar's surface.

  Hands.

  Hands carrying him, perversely caressing him, while others seize hold of his arms and legs and haul him bodily into the air.

  Our Father, who art in heaven…

  Movement, the whisper of bodies parting to get out of the way, a low murmuring of anticipation filling the air.

  He’s dropped onto a hard surface (the altar?) and his limbs are pulled out and away from his body, his captors’ claws clicking against each other as they expose the skin of his wrists and legs.

  Hail Mary full of grace, the Lord is with me…

  The cloying scent of rancid meat hangs in the air.

  More hands seize his face, forcing his jaws open, the taste of something metallic as an object is shoved into his mouth while gnarled fingers snatch at his tongue.

  Pain, terrible pain, as his blood flows freely, filling his mouth…

  With a sudden cry Cade snatched his hands away from the altar top, the coppery taste of phantom blood sharp in his mouth. His turned his head and spat on the carpet to clear it.

  When he looked up, Riley and Olsen were staring at him expectantly.

  "Vamps, all right," he told them, as he pulled his gloves back on. “A lot of them. And they left us a calling card." Cade reached out, held the corpse across the forehead with one hand and, with the other, yanked the pieces of duct tape off the corpse's mouth. The man's mouth remained locked open, so Cade peered inside and then reached in with two fingers to draw something out.

  Cade held the object out for the other men to see.

  It was a gold signet ring set with a ruby stone in the shape of a cross. It was identical to the ring that each team member wore on their right hands, the same rings they were given on the night of their initiation into the Order. On the reverse side, directly beneath the stone, were the initials JKB.

  "Bishop's ring," Cade said.

  Riley swore.

  Cade handed the ring to him, removed the glove on his right hand and then extended that hand back toward his team-mate again.

  "You sure you want to do that, boss?" Riley asked.

  Cade nodded. “We don't have any other choice. They obviously want us to know they have Bishop. The ring might be able to tell us if he is still alive, and if he is, where they might be keeping him."

  Shaking his head in resignation, Riley gently dropped the ring into his team-mate's open palm.

  This time, Cade's Talent was a bit more generous.

  Pain.

  A deep, throbbing pain that pulsed in his left side, right where the vamps had slashed him with his own weapon. He knew he was still bleeding; the wet trickle that marched down his ribcage and under the waistband of his pants clearly told that story. His right wrist hurt as well, where two of the vamps had locked their vile mouths on his flesh before their leader had stopped them from draining him dry.

  He was bone-weary, evidence that the two junior vamps had taken a fair amount of life force from him before the stronger one had intervened. Still, he was alive, and while he was he had no doubt that his team would make an effort to rescue him.

  Which meant he had to stay that way until they could get to him.

  He knew he was in the warehouse district; he’d seen as much when they'd grabbed him at the church. While he’d been unable to determine the exact location of the building to which they had brought him, he had been able to catch a glimpse of the sign out front. "Markhams Slaught.." was all he’d been able to see before they’d dragged him inside.

  A quick search of a phone book was all Cade and the others needed after that.

  Markhams Slaughterhouse was located on South 52nd Avenue, near the intersection with Grand. Olsen went out to the car and returned with his computer equipment. Using coordinates from a GPS device and some mapping software, he quickly pinpointed the exact location of the warehouse in relation to their current position. It was less than fifteen minutes away.

  Neither Jones nor Riley were surprised when Cade suggested they head directly for the warehouse. The fact that Cade had “read“ anything at all off of Bishop's ring meant that he had been wearing it sometime in the last forty-eight hours, for this was how long any given object could retain the psychic impressions imprinted on it. While forty-eight hours was a long time to be trapped in the hands of the Ch’iang shih, the possibility remained that their team-mate was still alive.

  They couldn’t take the chance and leave him to the vamps mercy.

  They had to try to get him out, as he had known they would.

  Cade had no intention of going into a nest of vamps without someone knowing what had happened to them, however. Using B
ishop’s computer equipment, he sent a coded email directly to the Preceptor, informing him of everything that had occurred so far and letting him know what they planned to do next. If they did not return, at least the Order would have the information amassed to date and could plan an appropriate response to the situation.

  Cade had every intention of surviving, but it never hurt to be prepared.

  *** ***

  The warehouse seemed to be deserted.

  Cade and his fellow knights stood just inside the entrance, their weapons held ready for use. The cavernous interior of the warehouse stretched away before them, illuminated by a series of old arc lights strung across the ceiling. A few piles of discarded crates and equipment lay in the far corners of the room.

  One of the lights shone down directly on the bruised and bloody face of a man whose slumped body was tied to a support pole halfway across the room.

  Bishop.

  Cade looked carefully around the interior of the warehouse, searching for any sign of movement either in the shadows that lined the walls or among the rafters and catwalks that stretched high overhead.

  Nothing moved.

  With Jones and Bishop ready to provide covering fire, the three men cautiously made their way across to their fallen companion. While the others stood guard, Cade knelt down beside the pole and gently touched Bishop’s face. The man’s skin was icy cold.

  They had gotten here too late.

  Keeping one arm around his team-mate’s body, Cade leaned around the back of the pole and cut through the cords that bound the body to it with his knife. With its support suddenly released, Bishop’s corpse slumped against him. Cade gently eased Bishop onto his back on the floor.

  Just to be certain, Cade leaned in close and listened for a heartbeat.

  All he heard was silence.

  Cade raised his head and looked down at his team-mate’s dead face, burning it into his memory, another victim he would now have to avenge.

  Bishop’s eyes suddenly popped open.