The Awakening (The Judas Curse Book 1)

by Angella Graff

  “What if he’s mixed up in the cult?” Ben countered, feeling frustrated and helpless in the situation. He wasn’t quite sure why he was so determined to keep John Doe away from Mark, but something about it made him uneasy.

  “Look, I really doubt it. The guy’s a total fob, without any sort of criminal history, and a long history with the church.”

  You have no idea how long he claims, Ben thought, but he kept that to himself. “What’s a fob?” he asked instead.

  “Fresh off the boat,” Stella said with a little laugh. “It’s something us first generation immigrants use to describe people new to America. He’s probably a good guy, and you’re probably just being a little over protective.”

  Ben let out a small sigh. There was no way he was going to be able to tell her about Mark’s claim, or about Greg’s slip into multiple personality disorder, or about the claim that his sister was now being possessed by ancient Greek gods who were still roaming the earth in a form of incorporeal consciousness.

  “Well if I find anything suspicious I’m going to file charges against him and have this power of attorney revoked,” Ben vowed.

  “If you do find something suspicious I should hope you would,” Stella said. She got up, walked to her printer and picked up the stack of papers. “Take these with you and make sure you don’t skip anything. We don’t know what information will be most prevalent, especially when dealing with a possible cult scenario. I’ve put a red flag on Thompson’s credit card, so it won’t be declined, but it will immediately notify both myself and your department of usage.”

  “Good,” Ben said as he slipped the papers into an empty file that was lying on Stella’s desk. He checked his watch and saw he still had a couple of hours before he had to be on a plane. “Got time to grab a cup of coffee with me before I have to take off?”

  Stella smiled at him and crossed her arms. “Only if it’s a date.”

  “Wouldn’t that be unprofessional?”

  “Wouldn’t that be interesting if that mattered?” It was her sleepy wink that won Ben over in that moment.

  ~*~

  Ben didn’t enjoy flying much, nor did he enjoy any version of airport food and drink. The liquor was overpriced, the food was stale and fried, and the company was dreary and a little depressing. Still, having a glass of wine in the airport bar with Stella before he was set for take-off wasn’t the worst thing.

  The pair had stopped by his hotel so he could grab his bags before taking off, and Stella spent a few minutes poking around the small room. “Not bad for one of the cheap-o places.”

  Ben shrugged as he shoved his discarded sleep shirt into his bag. “No roaches, no bedbug bites, so it was good enough for me.”

  “Bed comfortable?” she asked, pressing down on the mattress.

  “Why do you ask?”

  Stella gave him a little wink and a shrug. “Oh just wondering. Pity we don’t have more time.”

  Ben blushed and did his best to keep his libido in check. It had been a very long time since he’d been even remotely intimate with a woman, and he was really starting to like Stella. “Uh yeah,” was all he could manage.

  She let out a peal of laughter and shook her head. “More incentive to travel up your way.”

  It was one of those moments where Ben knew if he kissed her that would be it. End game. They would end up in bed, he would miss his flight, and while it was all overly appealing, the thought of his sister in danger was enough to keep his desires in check.

  Stella seemed to pout a little as Ben checked out of the room, but she didn’t press the issue much. By the time they got to the bar, the tension between the two of them had faded enough to be considered tolerable, and though Stella made it a point to touch his arm and hand every so often, the mood between them was relaxed.

  “So did you mean what you said?” Ben asked after his second glass of wine. “You really ever plan to visit?”

  “Depends on if your place has enough space for one more,” Stella said with a sly wink. “Think you can handle a house guest?”

  “Well, I’ll have to hide my extensive porn collection, but other than that, I think we’d be okay,” Ben joked.

  Stella let out a little giggle, her cheeks a bit pink from the wine, and she reached, her warm fingers lying across the back of his hand. “You know, I heard you were a real douche, Detective Stanford, but I’m starting to think people have a really poor judge of character.”

  “Most do,” Ben said, “but they’re right sometimes. I can be a real douche. I just… I don’t know, I seem to like you, I guess.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said slowly.

  “Do,” Ben replied in the same, low voice.

  Stella licked her lips and stared at him, her eyes almost seeming to glow. She blinked a few times and then broke their stare. “So did you mean the invite?”

  “Look, I don’t say things I don’t mean,” Ben said in a serious tone. “That’s why everyone thinks I’m such an ass most of the time. I don’t like to play games, and I get tired of people who do. I’m not very tactful, so if you wake up in the morning and ask me if you look like a goddess, I’m probably going to say no.”

  Stella seemed a little surprised at his honesty, but smiled. “I gotcha.”

  “If that scares you off, better to do it now,” Ben said, feeling like he may have crossed a line with her. Stella may have been a detective, but she was also a woman, and Ben knew damn well women liked to be complimented no matter what they looked like. One of the reasons he failed so often at being a “good” boyfriend.

  “It doesn’t,” Stella said. “I’m just not used to being talked to that way. But it’s okay,” she added, waving her hand, “I kind of like it.”

  “Sadist,” he said playfully.

  “I can be,” she answered in a tone Ben couldn’t decipher as honest or joking. “Keep in touch, won’t you?”

  Ben looked at his watch and realized that he’d either missed the first boarding call, or he was about to hear it. Luckily the line for security was very small, so he slapped some cash onto the table and hopped down from the bar stool.

  Stella followed him to the short line where only an elderly couple stood ahead of him. He set his bag down at his feet and turned to look at her. She looked pretty right then, her hair a little bit of a mess, and her lips pale and dry, but it meant her outside beauty was natural, and Ben rather liked that about her.

  “See you round,” she said and took a step back.

  Out of the blue, unsure where he found the courage to do so, Ben reached out, grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. He put his hands on her shoulder and as her face turned up to see his, he bent forward and kissed her.

  It seemed to take her by surprise, but only for a moment. She threw her arms around his back, her fingers grabbing onto the back of his jacket, and she kissed back, firmly, demanding and strong, just like her personality.

  Ben broke apart from the sound of the guard clearing his throat and his face was a little read as he looked over at the man waiting on him to move through. “Definitely see you soon,” he said.

  She stood there with a small smile on her face, watching him push his bag onto the belt, stroll through the security gates and pass his paperwork to the officers showing them his detective status and right to bear arms on a plane. He was through before long, and several steps away before he was brave enough to turn and see if she was still there.

  She was, watching him, a lock of hair tucked behind one ear, her arms folded under her chest. He raised his hand to wave, and as she waved back, he saw something that made him startle. Her eyes, just for a moment, caught the light brightly and Ben wondered if she was crying.

  Ben shook his head, and when he looked at her again, she looked normal, save for a small frown. “Probably just the sun,” he muttered, rubbing his face with one hand

  Feeling better about the entire situation, Ben made it to his gate just in time to board, and by the time the plane was
in the air, Ben had all-but forgotten about the light in her eyes, and found his mind occupied with what the two of them might get up to the moment she set foot in his city.

  Thirty-Six

  Abby was fast asleep on the sofa when the knock sounded through the small apartment. Mark jumped, having forgotten he was expecting someone, and he looked at Abby for a long moment to make sure she hadn’t been disturbed.

  He grabbed the dark glasses from the small table near the door, shoved them on his face and then opened the door. “Yes?”

  “Er, hi.” It was Greg, standing there with a small suitcase resting against his shin, his hair a bit disheveled and his face drawn from the flight.

  Mark stepped aside and let him in, locking the door with a heavy click once Greg had set his case down by the wall. He pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, feeling as tired as the doctor looked.

  “How is she?” Greg asked, glancing over at Abby’s sleeping form.

  “No major changes,” Mark said with a shrug, keeping his voice at a near whisper. “She fell asleep a few hours ago and has barely shifted.”

  “It’s exhausting, letting them in, and I can’t imagine how it would feel with one of them forcing their way inside of my mind. Did she indicate any idea of how this is happening?”

  Mark shook his head and gestured towards the kitchen. “Let’s go sit and I’ll make some tea.”

  Greg followed, taking a seat at one of the scrubbed wooden chairs while Mark put the kettle on. He grabbed a couple of mugs and then sat across from Greg while the water started to heat up.

  “I’m deeply concerned,” Greg said, his arms folded on top of the table. He glanced around the wall at Abby once more. “I’m not entirely sure one of them is forcing its way inside of her. From all of my research, I’ve found that to be nearly impossible.”

  “What do you mean?” Mark asked. He jumped a bit when the kettle began to whistle sooner than expected, and he got up to fetch the water.

  “When I was younger, at the University, I didn’t have access to the drugs I use now whenever Asclepius is going to take over. I freely admit that I used him to pass a lot of my medical exams, and he did a lot of the work during my internship at the hospital. It was difficult, though, because aside from over the counter sleep-aids and antihistamines, a lot of the time he had to possess my body with my mind still conscious. Even willing to allow him in, my consciousness was fighting to keep control and it almost never went smoothly. There wasn’t a time when I completely blacked out, or I wasn’t aware that someone was trying to take me over.”

  Mark poured the water and set the kettle down on the edge of the table. Absently, he chose a packet of tea and began to dunk the bag, his eyes staring off to the corner of the room. “So you think she’s willingly letting whoever this is inside of her?”

  Greg gave a small shrug. “I can’t be sure. It’s unlikely. You’d see much more of a struggle, and I doubt she’d be so completely unaware of it. Unless, of course, she’s lying.”

  “She’s not,” Mark said, and it was true. Living as long as he had, he’d not yet met a person who could successfully lie to him. It was a trick he had picked up after two thousand years, and he relied on it. A lot. “I can say with absolute certainty she’s not lying. She has no idea what’s going on.”

  “Then we may need to explore other options,” Greg said. “Her brother said she had bruises on her arms.”

  “Yes,” Mark said.

  “It’s possible, then, somehow, she’s being drugged,” Greg replied. “I’m not sure how, or who would have access to those kind of drugs, or to her for that matter, but it’s something we need to consider.”

  “Okay,” Mark said. “But what about today? Today she was simply sitting at her desk drinking tea and the next thing she knew she was waking up in my office.”

  Greg scratched his chin in thought. “Maybe her tea? It’s possible that was drugged.”

  “But who could have done that? Her brother is still in California, as were you, and we haven’t seen anyone suspect at this school.”

  Greg gave a helpless shrug as he wrapped his hands around his mug. He skipped the tea altogether and sipped on the plain, hot water. “I’m just throwing out ideas here. I honestly don’t know what’s happening to her and I wish I had some other answers for you.”

  “Do you er,” Mark said, hesitating a little, “ever talk to your um…”

  “Asclepius?” Greg offered.

  “Can you two communicate?”

  Greg gave a little shrug. “It’s complicated, but yes. That room in my office, that’s a sort of…” he trailed off and shrugged. “I guess you could call it a portal to the other side, to where the spirits in higher form exist. From what Asclepius has told me, the portals on Earth used to be a lot stronger, allowing gods of all size and power through. However, as the gods all started leaving, the portal’s power began to shrink, and now it allows just whispers through, images of the gods’ former glory, but nothing else. When I’m in the portal room, Asclepius can appear to me and talk to me. He’s incorporeal but I can see him and hear him.”

  “So you can’t talk to him now?” Mark questioned.

  “Not exactly. He has the ability to come through if I allow him to, to take over my body for a while if I take my little drug cocktail. Otherwise the gods left have the ability to influence humans who possess a very specific gene, but it’s sort of like having a random thought pop into your head. They manipulate your thought pattern, but they can’t do it for long, and it’s easy to overcome.”

  Mark scratched his chin and sat back in his chair, ignoring his tea completely. “So if whatever is possessing Abby can’t get through without some sort of drug, and it can’t influence her any more than a couple of suggested thoughts, we really do have only two possible scenarios.”

  “Someone is drugging her, or she’s doing it willingly,” Greg concluded.

  Mark sighed and rubbed his face with one hand. “Okay, so how powerful can she be in god form?”

  “It depends,” Greg answered honestly. “Asclepius was never a particularly powerful god, so his ability to manipulate matter is fairly insignificant. His abilities resemble something along the lines of telekinesis. There are others, though, who’ve retained a little firmer grasp on their former abilities. I know that a couple of the old Norse gods are still roaming around and are able to produce an inhuman amount of strength from a human body. Mind you, it drains them and they can’t do it for long, but they can do a decent amount of damage in a short period of time.”

  “The Norse gods?” Mark asked, his eyes wide.

  Greg gave him a half-smile. “Oh the Greeks weren’t the only people influenced by gods. Believe me, almost any theology, ancient or modern, is real in some capacity.”

  “Not every theology,” Mark muttered.

  Greg folded his arms across his chest and stared at Mark for a while before speaking again. “Someday you’ll have to tell me your story, Mark.”

  “Doubtful,” Mark said. “Telling my story is the source of my power, but I can tell you right now my power brings nothing but war and bloodshed.”

  Greg’s face was a mask of curiosity, but he didn’t push the topic. “I’m going to try and examine Abby right now,” he said after a moment. “Just be prepared if she wakes and she’s not Abby.”

  Mark sighed. “Is there a way to sedate her if she’s not herself?”

  “Sedate, no, but force the god out, yes. It doesn’t work for a long period of time, but I discovered it during a period of my life where I was afraid Asclepius might start taking over permanently. The funny thing is, it’s a drug used widely by humans all over the planet.” Greg rose and fetched his bag from its place by the door.

  Pulling out a small, black cloth bag, he had a pouch with several hypodermic needles, bottles of clear liquid and one pill bottle filled with tiny blue pills. “This is an anti-depressant,” Greg said, holding up the pill bottle. “These right here are time-release capsu
les. You swallow them in the morning and about two or three hours later, they start to release the drug into your system. To put it simply, it affects the chemicals in the brain in such a way that the god consciousness is forced out.”

  “And that?” Mark asked, nodding at the syringes.

  “A fail safe I invented. This is a hefty dose that will take effect straight away. Used in emergency situations only,” Greg said.

  “Are there side effects?”

  “There are always side effects,” Greg said with a laugh. “Usually with long-term usage, and typical with any sort of anti-depressant. It’s better that we try and free her from whatever consciousness is using her without resorting to drugs, but it’s always best to have a last resort.”

  Mark let out a small sigh. “Okay well, let’s go and wake her.” He led the way to the living room where Abby was laying on the sofa, snoring lightly, her mouth slightly ajar. Mark knelt down next to her and put his warm hand on her rather chilled arm. “Abby?”

  She gave a little start, her eyes flying open. “Oh,” she said, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. “Oh God, did it happen again?”

  Mark let out a small breath of relief. “No, you just took a long, and I’m assuming quite needed, nap.”

  Abby groaned and rubbed her face. “Is my brother here?”

  “No, just Greg,” Mark said, nodding at the doctor who was standing off to the side.

  Greg was staring down at Abby, his eyes narrowed in suspicion, and Mark figured Greg didn’t quite believe she was herself yet. “Hey,” Abby offered, giving him a sleepy smile. “Did you just get in?”

  “A little while ago,” Greg said with a shrug. He took a seat in the chair near the sofa and crossed one ankle over his knee. “You feel a little more rested?”