by Rach Elle
Regina exhaled a long breath as she sat in shock. After a moment of trying to make sense of the situation she asked, “Are you afraid they’ll hurt her?”
“No, they’ll revere her.” James explained. “They’ll let the whole thing happen; that’s why I need to find her first.”
“And when you reach her, what are you going to do?”
“What I should have done over a decade ago,” he said with bleakness in his eyes, “I’m going to end her life before she kills us all.”
James watched out of his periphery as Regina leaned back in her seat, clearly stunned by his last words. Her soft, flowing blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders and her v-neck sweater strained to stretch over her lace bra. She stared out the passenger side window and sighed, her breasts rising and falling with each deep breath. She pulled back her sleeves to reveal her slender, pale forearms and… James narrowed his eyes. Embedded in her delicate skin sat a small tattoo; a circle with angel wings reaching upward. He had never noticed the tattoo before, despite their sex only a night ago. He opened his mouth to ask her what it meant…
Regina’s phone alerted them to an incoming text message. She accepted it and held it out for the two of them to see. They both read the address and looked to each other.
“Do you have your passport?” James asked.
“Yes,” she nodded.
James shifted the car into ‘drive’, “London, here we come.”
41
London, England…
“I don’t really have anything to pack.” Awilda said as she gathered her one pair of jeans and a white knit sweater.
“We’ll get you more clothes; I promise.” Junior assured her as he gathered his one change of clothing. They needed to get out of the hotel as soon as possible. The DAA had somehow tracked them to the building. Mason was on high alert; watching the Finders’ computers in case they managed to follow them to the Vanderburen castle.
“I can’t believe I’m going to live in a castle.” Awilda continued, “I mean, if you’re going to be held against your will, might as well do it in style, right?” She forced a chuckle.
Junior retrieved a plastic bag to put his belongings in. He hated that the girl was only with him because he forced her to be. “Look,” he began, “I’m going to try to make the new home as comfortable as I can for you.” He thought for a moment. “I mean, there’s a lot more freedom there; you can go outside and once things calm down we might be able to go into the city; I noticed sitting on a shelf in the living room was a chess board. Maybe when we get there we can play a round.” He cringed slightly, hoping her reaction wouldn’t be a total rejection.
Awilda pursed her lips as she looked at the bedside clock. “It’s really late.” She said. She could see Junior’s shoulders slump. She felt bad; he really was trying to make an effort. After a moment, she clarified, “How about tomorrow?”
A small knock sounded on the door. Junior’s long strides got him there in no time. He opened the door to Elizabeth standing on the other side.
“Are you all ready to go?” he asked.
She nodded, “King wants to see you first.”
Junior was uneasy as he looked over his shoulder to see Awilda stuffing her clothes in a plastic grocery bag. He looked back to Elizabeth. “Stay with her.” He ordered as he headed down the hall toward Kingsley’s room.
Junior swiped his hotel key and opened Kingsley’s door. The room inside was completely dark; too dark for any human to see enough to avoid walking into furniture. Kingsley sat on the edge of the bed twirling a large knife in his hand.
“What’s that?” Junior asked.
Without looking away from the blade Kingsley answered, “It’s from the Vanderburen’s; from the look of it I don’t think it’s ever been used. It’s sharp enough to slice through just about anything.”
“You stole it?” Junior walked further into the room.
“Stole it, borrowed it; what difference does it make?” Kingsley’s tone was flat and empty. His shoulders were slumped forward and his head lowered; he looked defeated. The last time Junior had seen him like this was over a decade ago on a park bench in a cemetery.
“Is everything okay?” Junior asked.
“Peachy; why do you ask?”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look a little psychotic with that blade in your hand.”
Kingsley chuckled lightly, his shoulders bouncing up and down. “I’ve had many emotions over the past few days; psychotic isn’t one of them. My head is perfectly clear, I assure you.”
“Good, but we really should be going. The DAA might be making their move as we speak.”
“I’ve waited centuries to find my Responsibility.” Kingsley cut him off.
“And now you’ve found her; so let’s get her to safety and then we can have our mental breakdown, okay?”
“Do you have any idea what it’s like? To go so many years wandering aimlessly, waiting for someone to tell you what your purpose in life is; only to find out that that purpose is to protect evil incarnate.”
Junior squeezed his eyes shut. “Jesus”, he breathed, “not this again.”
“Yes, this again,” Kingsley stood and turned toward his friend. “I don’t know what upsets me more; that I can’t prevent the prophecy’s fruition or that the one man who can is too stubborn and selfish to care.”
“What do you want me to do; kill her?”
Kingsley suppressed a growl in his throat.
“I thought you dragged me all the way here to protect her.”
“Things are not always as they seem.”
Junior couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You’re crazy; if killing her was your plan all along then why the charade; why waste your time shopping with Lizzie and meeting with the Vanderburens?”
“Appearances, my friend; I needed her to trust us. She would never let you get close enough otherwise.”
“Close enough to slice her throat, you mean?” Junior watched as Kingsley’s eyes flashed to red for a half second. He lowered his voice, “You’ve been lying this entire time; why not just come out and tell me your intentions from the start?”
“Do you really think you would have cooperated if I did that?”
“No,” he didn’t hesitate to answer, “that’s the difference between you and me; I would never stoop so low as to kill an innocent.”
Kingsley growled, “I would do anything to protect the ones I love; that’s the real difference. I step up to the plate; I handle things like a man. You live in a world where everything is handed to you; the moment something is inconvenient you turn your back. You wash your hands of it and expect the rest of us to pick up the slack.”
“You’re acting insane.”
Kingsley glared at the large man standing mere feet from him. “I’m glad your mother isn’t here to see this.”
“Excuse me?” Junior gritted his teeth and suppressed the burning in his eyes.
“She would be disappointed to learn that her son, the savior, was no less of a coward than a roach in the light.”
“Leave her out of this; she has nothing to do with any of your lunacies and apocalyptic delusions.”
“Who do you think gave me these delusions?”
Junior stopped and recoiled. His heart beat violently as Kingsley continued, “Neighbors were supposed to lend you cups of sugar and drive you to the airport; not fill your head with prophecies and notions that the very child they spawned was destined to save the world; but your mother was a true believer. She knew the greatness that flowed through your veins. She also knew the horror that you would one day have to face; and she looked to me to help you realize your fate. I, if you can believe it, wasn’t a believer. I didn’t want to hear any of it. Finally I couldn’t take it anymore and I left. When I looked up the prophecy and learned it for myself I realized just how wrong I was and I’ve regretted leaving you and Kate ever since. I swore I would never run from anything ever again; no matter how insane the circu
mstance seemed at the time, and that’s where we differ.
“I’m a man,” Kingsley continued, gripping the knife tighter in his palm, “Elizabeth’s deadbeat husband beat her and you ran away; he did it again seven years later and I snapped his neck.”
Junior stared through the darkness in disbelief. He thought back to the night he’d received the news that Randy had died. “He was killed in a car accident.”
“Anything can be made to look like an accident. He died in my bare hands, begging for his life. I didn’t want to kill him, but I had to protect Elizabeth.”
“Does she know?” Junior whispered.
“That’s beside the point; Jesus Christ you just don’t get it. The right thing is rarely ever the easiest.” Kingsley began pacing at the foot of the bed. “I figured once that bastard was out of the picture you’d reclaim your Responsibility; but you refused. You were too afraid to confront Elizabeth after abandoning her for so many years; so instead you just kept pissing your life away.”
“I can’t believe you took someone’s life.” Junior whispered.
“It needed to be done.”
“You committed murder!”
“And so will you!” Kingsley pointed the knife at Junior. “If you don’t stop the prophecy while you still can then you’ll kill us all. You have to make a choice here; one life or millions.”
“I’m taking her to the Vanderburen’s,” Junior turned to leave, “maybe you should find somewhere else to be.”
Kingsley could feel his blood boiling, his eyes flashed red and his fangs protruded in his mouth as he threw the knife as hard as he could toward the door. The blade embedded itself in the plaster only inches away from Junior’s head.
Junior stopped and looked at the weapon. His friend had lost his mind. With a heavy sigh he pulled the knife out of the wall and tucked it into the waistband of his jeans. He allowed his shirt to conceal it and turned back to Kingsley. In a calm voice, he spoke, “She’s not evil incarnate and she’s done nothing to make us think otherwise.”
Kingsley’s temper leveled, his eyes returned to their natural brown as he looked to his friend for understanding. “A queen who does not fear death and whose blood does not flow in Heaven,” Kingsley began reciting from memory Satan’s description of the destroyer in The Ultimate War, “Fertile is she and willing to carry my vicarious seed through massacre. She is my lover who will bestow upon me the greatest gift; hells earthly rule.” He paused as his young friend stared in silence.
He sighed, “The prophecy tells merely of a portal through which hell can pass. Awilda is a pawn; plain and simple.” He grabbed the old tabloid off of the dresser and tossed it at Junior. “Read the article; you’ll see what I mean,” he said. “Everything she is now; innocent, sweet, understanding and forgiving; none of that is going to matter. It’s a horrible, inevitable reality; and I wish I could be the one to stop it. I wish I could take the burden off of you because I know you don’t want it and you’ve done nothing to deserve it.”
They stood in the dark silence for a moment. Kingsley rested his shoulders and reclaimed his seat on the foot of the bed. “David the First dropped to his knees and prayed for forgiveness for not only him, but for all his kind. He prayed for the power to revolt even though he feared the wrath of Satan; but because of him the human race prevailed. They created statues of gargoyles and placed them on ledges of buildings and inside churches to ward off bad spirits. Because of his courage we became a symbol of faith; not death. It wasn’t easy for David, but in the end he was revered.” He looked to his friend with pleading eyes. “You have his blood in you. Whatever happens, I pray you won’t run away from this inconvenience.”
Junior sighed, “I can’t believe Awilda as the destroyer; I haven’t seen anything that proves she is.”
Kingsley looked away from his friend and stared out the window. “I understand,” he started, “hey, maybe we should just adopt her Limrid; you know, like a dog. He’s sitting outside the window as we speak. What would Awilda do? Oh yeah, she’d let him in because he’s cold.”
Junior lifted his chin and narrowed his eyes. He began to take a step toward the window. He was ready to throw it open, pull the Limrid inside and tear it limb from limb. “Don’t bother,” Kingsley read his mind. “They’ll just keep coming. True minions will flock. They won’t stop flocking, I assure you.”
The thought of the Limrid left Junior speechless. Every other sign Kingsley had spoken of could be explained away; but the Limrid; now that was difficult to explain. Not even the Londoners had ever seen one, and somehow Awilda had attracted one on at least two separate occasions in the past few days. He wanted nothing more than to shake off the notion that Kingsley had spoken the truth, but it was clear they were seeking her out. True minions will flock. Junior opened the door to leave. He looked to his friend one more time. “When she turns against us; I will turn against her.” He tried to reassure him.
Kingsley dead panned to Junior with hopelessness in his eyes. “I fear that by then it will be too late.”
Junior had left his old friend in the dark hotel room and headed for the one he’d shared with Awilda. He stopped in the middle of the hall and looked down to the wrinkled tabloid in his hand; for the first time he opened the paper and read.
Outside of the dark hotel room, with his fingers and toes gripping the brick exterior, Limmy listened through the single pane window; his large, citrine eyes wide with curiosity. He saw the light from the hallway disappear and peered through the window to see the savior had left. As quickly and quietly as he could he scaled the building to four windows over where the girl and the old woman sat in silence.
Junior entered his hotel room. He could barely see straight. The tabloid article he’d just spent the past few minutes reading had sent him into a tailspin. He looked at the young, innocent woman sitting in her red sundress and suppressed the urge to throw up. All this time she’d been envisioning Limrids; she’d spent too many years fearing possession and feeling a constant demonic presence lurking beyond every corner. It can’t be. But it was; too much of the article boasted quotations; words directly from her thin, fragile mouth. No matter how much he wanted to; he couldn’t ignore this any longer. He needed to will himself to look past her beautiful exterior and see her for who – or what – she was ultimately destined to be; evil.
Both Awilda and Elizabeth looked at him in silence. He didn’t want to say anything to either of them. Instead he leaned his head against the wall and tried to collect his thoughts.
“Junior; is everything alright?” Elizabeth asked as she got up from the edge of the bed.
Junior exhaled and looked toward her. His eyes caught the sight of something in the window behind her. The small, bald figure quickly disappeared behind the exterior wall. A growl emanated in his throat and his eyes threatened to burn red. He wanted to grab the Limrid by his scrawny throat; but he knew Kingsley was right; it would solve nothing. Awilda, whether it was intentional or not was somehow a beacon for these creatures; they would follow her wherever she went and they weren’t going to stop. Hell, according to what he’d just read, they’d been plaguing her for over a decade now.
He looked to Elizabeth. “You should go get Kingsley. He’s not in the best way right now. I think you two should take the rental to the Vanderburen’s. Awilda and I will take a cab.”
Elizabeth nodded and left the hotel room. Awilda stood and grabbed her small bag of minimal belongings. “I guess we should go,” she shrugged.
“No,” Junior cut her off. “You need to change.”
“Why?”
Because you’re too beautiful in that dress. “Because we’re not going to the castle just yet.”
“Where are we going?” Her brows popped with curiosity.
“It’s a surprise,” Junior couldn’t look her in the eye, “just change, okay?”
Limmy peered through the window again. He didn’t like the tone of the man’s voice. He watched as Awilda disappeared into the bat
hroom as the savior lifted his shirt to reveal a long blade tucked into the waist of his denim. He grabbed the handle and stared down at the weapon with sad, conflicted eyes. Limmy’s eyes widened. He feared for what he knew would come next.
Limmy watched the front door to the hotel with a heightened sense of urgency. Moments later Awilda and Junior emerged and climbed into a taxi.
42
It was Corey’s turn to pull the night shift on the fourth floor of United Financial. On the other side of the dirty, beige wall he knew Sunders was waiting rather impatiently. Every hour on the hour he had stuck his head into the office and asked if there was any movement on the tracer. There hadn’t been any and now the one hour mark had officially passed a half hour ago. He didn’t know if Sonny gave up, fell asleep, or found something else to occupy him with.
As Corey sat in front of his computer he could feel his eyelids growing heavier and heavier by the second. He figured Madge was going to have an even harder time pulling an all-nighter tomorrow. She was older than him and didn’t have nearly as much energy on a good day. Corey didn’t want to give in to the temptation of sleep, but he could feel his torso leaning forward and his arms supporting his weight on the desk. Shortly after his head lowered and snuggled into the crook of his arm he closed his eyes.
Just before Corey slipped into a dream state a small beeping rang in his ears. He dismissed it as the alarm on his watch, but when he opened his eyes to see the time he realized that wasn’t the sound at all. After only a second of confusion his head whipped toward the computer screen.
Sunders had fallen asleep at his desk about forty-five minutes ago. Crisp sat on the other side of the room on the sofa. He leaned back and every once in a while closed his eyes, but there wasn’t any way he would be able to sleep. He inhaled deeply as he scowled at the incompetence of the man unconscious on the desk. The Protectors had been in this city for over twelve hours now and they weren’t any closer to finding Awilda. Not that Crisp trusted them anyway; he had a feeling they wouldn’t hold civilian lives with high regard in the heat of a battle. The best chance the girl had was for him to reach her before they did.