Jennifer rolled her eyes. “Oh, it wasn’t fun for a while. Weaver is still going on about our dating. I told him that he was my boss, not my dad. He then went on about giving me an official warning until I reminded him that he had five. That pretty much shut him up.”
I laughed. “Well, consider it a treasure for your keepsake box to remind you of how we met.”
She scowled. “Do I look like someone who has a keepsake box?”
I held up my hands in mock defensiveness. “Is there a way to answer that question that won’t involve me getting maced or shot?”
She leaned in close. “No, but it might get you kissed.”
We kissed as she ran her fingertips through my hair, and I closed my eyes. “So, interim pastor, how does it feel?”
I gave a half smile. “Weird. The real question is, can you stand dating a pastor?”
“A detective and a pastor. What a combination.”
“So, where is your faith?” I asked.
She arched her eyebrows. “After all this? I would say at the highest level possible.”
“No more vague God of the universe?”
“Not in the least, and I’m looking forward to you telling me more about Him on Sunday.”
I faced her and wrinkled my brow. “Really?”
Jennifer hadn’t come to church with me since the events at Serpent Mound. I never asked her why.
“Really,” she said. “Mom and Dad won’t care too much. They will just be glad I’m going back to church.”
“I’m surprised you won’t be going to Father Neal’s church,” I countered. “It’s probably a bit more your style.”
“Yeah, I thought about that. I might ask you the same question.”
“I don’t know. Part of me wants to, but I’m not ready yet, especially now. I just had my faith restored, and to rethink my church affiliation would be a bit much. Although,” I paused. “I’m starting to ask myself those long-term questions.”
“And you need time to answer them?”
“Yeah, that would be about right.”
“Makes perfect sense, and I’m guessing that pearl of wisdom came from a certain English priest who is our friend?”
I smiled. “It did. Do you really think I’m that wise?”
“No, not in the least.”
“If you weren’t a girl, I would hit you.”
“You could try, but I would break your arm.”
“It’s already broken, thanks. Great, I’m dating someone who can kick my ass.”
“Only when you need it.” She moved her arm beneath mine and held onto me. “So, when do you want to do this?”
“Visit Mike in Jail? Today, if that’s still good for you.”
Jennifer looked out over the quarry. “Yeah, I guess so, but it won’t be easy.”
“Well, I’ll be with Father Neal.”
She frowned. “Yeah. I just don’t like it. Mike and Daniel are creepy assholes.”
“Is that an official cop term?”
“I’m serious, Aidan.” She glared up at me.
“You’re pretty cute when you’re mad, you know?”
“And you are a pigheaded stubborn-ass male.”
“And yet, you take care of me.” I chuckled.
Jennifer sighed. “Fine. I’ll get you in today. Shouldn’t be too hard to slip you in, especially since you’re clergy.”
I pulled out my phone and called Father Neal.
“Yes, my son?” he answered.
“Are you ready to see Mike? It’ll be our last chance before they move him.”
“Most certainly. Come get me.”
“We’ll be right there.”
We drove to St. Patrick’s, picked up Father Neal and went to the county jail. As we entered, my stomach clenched. Jennifer shepherded us through the checkpoints, and we subjected ourselves to thorough searches.
Father Neal limped down the hall. “Well, that’s the most touching I’ve had in a while.”
I laughed. “No doubt. Still, better than the airports.”
“This way, Reverends,” Jennifer said, reminding us of our professional identities as ministers in a prison facility.
I smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”
She showed us into a room with simple tables and walls.
I grinned. “Aww, honey, it looks just like the room we met in at your station, right down to the plain white paint.”
Jennifer rolled her eyes. “I’ll be behind the glass. He only wants to see the two of you.”
I helped Father Neal into a chair and sat beside him.
“What do you think he wants?” I asked, pouring both of us a glass of water.
Father Neal gripped the cup-shaped object on his cane. “I have no idea. I can’t see what he would gain from talking to us. Jennifer arranged with the prison doctor to make sure he gets regular injections of the serum to control his magickal impulse. I’m told he’s fighting it, but let’s just say he’s under doctor’s orders.” He grinned and took a sip of water.
The door clicked then opened. An armed guard led Mike, bound and shackled, into the room and cuffed him to the table. The patrolman looked at us, nodded and left.
Mike looked put-together, with a trimmed goatee and bright eyes. If it weren’t for the orange jumpsuit, I’d have thought nothing had happened between us.
“So, the good Father and his new apprentice. How is everything healing, Aidan?”
I stared at Mike and played with a pen in front of me. This wasn’t what I’d expected at all. I thought he would rage at us, curse at us, and maybe even take a swing. Instead, he grinned like a fool.
“I’m fine, Mike. The doctor says everything should be healed up in a month or so.”
He nodded. “And how is the church? Do they miss me?”
“Not really. They’re glad your ass is gone.”
Mike chuckled. “And I’m glad my ass is gone, too. Do you know what a trial it is to pretend to be something you aren’t? I’ve had years of it.”
“Well, goody for you,” I shot back. “Too bad your true self is going to get you stuck with a needle, asshole.”
I leaned forward, and Father Neal placed a hand on my arm.
“Now, Michael, we’ve exchanged pleasantries, so why don’t you tell us why you wanted to speak with us?” Father Neal’s tone dropped an octave, and the room seemed to darken.
Mike put up his shackled hands, and his face morphed into a scowl. “Listen, priest, no need to threaten me, I’m just trying to deliver a message.”
Father Neal lifted up his cane. “Then deliver it and be done.”
The room lightened, and Mike smiled again. “With pleasure. You know, I can’t tell you what an honor it is to meet the Mage John Neal.”
“My title is Father, not Mage,” Father Neal said, giving him a cool stare.
“Yes, yes, you serve the Nazarene.” Mike chuckled. “What a disappointment. The Brotherhood had such high hopes for you. Oh well, we know where you are now, and this boy, he’s important too. It’s been like our own version of Christmas morning lately.”
Father Neal glanced at me and then back at Mike. “What do you mean? The ritual failed. Your master still sleeps.”
Mike laughed. “Is that so? Have you read the papers recently? Lots of strange things going on lately, don’t you think?”
Father Neal gave me a sideways glance.
“Let’s pretend I haven’t,” I said. “Why don’t you tell me?”
He rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. “Oh, you know, lions roaming the suburbs, an increase in power outages, grave robbing. Your ghost group is probably busy, yes?”
Father Neal turned pale. “I don’t know what you mean, Michael.”
“Of course you don’t! That’s the beauty, isn’t it?”
“Speak plainly, or we will leave,” Father Neal commanded as the light dimmed again.
Mike looked around, and the smile on his face disappeared. “It’s simple. The ritual worked. The Grinning Man has awakened.”
> “That’s not possible. We stopped you.” I dug my nails into my palms.
“Yes, Aidan, you stopped us at Serpent Mound, no doubt about it.” He gave me a mock bow. “But you were meant to.”
A chill raced up my spine as I glanced at Father Neal. His face looked drawn in and he seemed older than I’d ever seen him.
“Come on, Mike,” I said. “Nachash, the serpent. That’s where the ritual ended.”
Mike smirked. “Funny thing about Hebrew words. Their meanings are so tricky.”
I ran through my brain trying to sort through other meanings for Nachash.
Mike glared at me. “Think, Aidan, it’s not that hard.”
“Shining ones,” Father Neal broke in.
Mike laughed. “Excellent, priest! We weren’t sure it would fool both of you. We figured Aidan would fall for it, but not you, Father.” He looked back at me. “On the other hand, you ignored other evidence, didn’t you? Those scratches on Jessica’s head?”
“That was gibberish.”
“No, Aidan. It was Aramaic combined with Hebrew. It’s an ancient mage trick to imply double meaning. We split the force of the spirits, you see. What you saw at Serpent Mound was only half of what we called up with Amanda’s death.”
“So, what was the word?”
Mike grinned. “Well, I won’t tell you the actual word. I’m sure the good Father knows it anyway. But essentially, we spelled ‘The Shining Bone Talker’ on her head. Or, if you wanted to be crude about it, ‘The Grinning Dead one.’”
“That’s a little hard to swallow,” I said. “I think you’re just screwing with our heads.”
Mike stared at Father Neal. “You exposed yourself, old man. You, him, and the thing you guard. The Grinning Man knows. He knows you’re here. He felt the power of the thing you possess.”
Father Neal leaned forward. “No one possesses it, Michael. It is not a thing, it is Holy. That is what your kind never understands.”
“We’ll see about that now, won’t we?” Mike laughed.
“I still say you’re full of shit.” I slapped the table.
“Am I?” Mike’s eyes examined me with a half smile. “Look at Father Neal’s face. That should tell you otherwise. But if you need more proof, go to Newark Mounds. You’ll see.”
Mike stood up. “Well, boys, it’s been fun. Maybe I’ll see you again sometime.”
I jumped up and got in his face. “Unlikely, you asshole! Unless it’s when I sit in the room to watch your eyes close on your way to hell!”
Mike leaned in close to my face. “Amanda was such a good fuck,” he whispered. “Her cries of pleasure made for good magick. It wasn’t just Daniel who had her.”
“Aidan, no!” Father Neal shouted as I drew back and punched Mike in the face. I got in another punch as Jennifer and the guard rushed into the room. She jumped between us and shoved me to the wall.
Mike laughed and licked the blood as it poured from his nose. “He’s back, boys, he’s back! And he will find you, she will help him!” He yelled as the guard yanked him out of the room.
Jennifer pointed a finger in my face. “What the hell do you think you were doing? Do you know how much trouble you could have caused? What if he presses charges?”
Father Neal put a hand on Jennifer’s arm. “He won’t, but we must get to Newark Mounds right now.”
She nodded. “I’ll see if there is an incident report from Newark while we drive.”
We walked out of the jail, and my head buzzed. I couldn’t remember ever having the desire to kill anyone, but I wanted to stick a knife in Mike’s heart.
“I found a report from the county police in Newark,” Jennifer said as we got in the car. “No murder, as I thought, but…”
“Go on, my dear,” Father Neal said.
“Well, it seems a hole just appeared in one of the mounds as if someone had been digging there.”
“Can you get us permission to be there?” I asked. “I believe it’s a golf course, right?”
She nodded. “Yeah, let me make some calls.”
Jennifer’s voice droned in the back seat as I stared out the windshield.
“Would the Grinning Man actually be buried there, Father?” I asked.
Father Neal sighed. “You must blame me for this, Aidan. I didn’t take the Newark legends seriously.”
“What legends?”
“Remember when I told you giant skeletons had been found there? And blocks of wood with Hebrew writing? Most people dismissed them as hoaxes, but I should have known better.”
I shrugged. “So, what if they’re real? What does it mean?”
“It means that Newark is a place of powerful ancient magick, more powerful than I realized. Do you know what the giants probably were?”
“I really don’t. I hate to admit.”
“And in those days, the sons of God mated with the daughters of men and the Nephilim were born, the men of old, the men of great renown.”
I gripped the steering wheel. “You can’t be serious.”
“If I’d said that a few hours ago, I might have been joking. Now, we seem to know better.”
“But the Grinning Man, he’s not Nephilim, is he?”
Father Neal gripped his cane. “That is a very good question. I don’t know. As I said before, he was human. But as to what he is now…”
His words churned in my stomach as I pulled into the Newark Mounds complex. Cars filled the country club’s parking lot.
I shook my head. “Can someone tell me how in the hell someone built a golf course on a major archeological site?”
“Product of the early twentieth century, where no one gave a shit about history.” Jennifer snorted. “So, instead of being recognized along with the pyramids, like they deserve, these mounds see douche bags knocking their golf balls around.”
Father Neal chuckled. “Feel strongly, my dear?”
“You have no idea. My dad and I have been working for years to get this country club out of here.”
A skinny tanned man in a white golf hat walked up to us as we got out of the car. “Detective Brown?”
Jennifer forced a smile. “That’s me. Bruce, is it?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll take you to the altar. That’s where the huge hole is.”
Bruce walked us down the mounds. As we passed over the green of the ninth hole, he pointed to a mound about fifty feet in front of us. “The hole is up there. I found it a few weeks ago.”
“Could it have been made by a backhoe?” I asked.
“No,” Bruce said. “No tracks on the course. Nothing. Only thing we found is a ton of bare footprints. Some jokers from Denison University, probably. Little assholes like to come over here all the time and mess with us.”
He took us to the altar, and we climbed the hill where a large rectangular hole had been carved into the ground. Father Neal began to walk around the mound, muttering to himself.
“What else did you find here, Bruce?” Jennifer asked.
“Well, ma’am, we found a lot of what I thought was blood. But the police said it wasn’t. Just a red substance that looked a lot like blood.”
“So what did they say it was?” Jennifer pressed.
“They didn’t know, ma’am. But nothing else was amiss, so the police just chalked it up to a weird vandalism case.”
I bent down to touch the earthen edges. The smooth dirt shocked my senses as I stared into the hole. Energy seemed to flow from the opening, and the world spun. I backed up so that I wouldn’t fall into it, and began to hear whispers, though I couldn’t make out what they said.
“Anything else?” Jennifer asked.
“Nope. Good thing you came today. We’ve got a truck-load of dirt coming to fill this hole in tomorrow morning.”
“Thank you, Bruce,” Jennifer said. “Would you mind letting us look around?”
Bruce nodded. “Take your time. I want to check out the green for a minute.”
“Father?” Jennifer said as Bruce walked a
way.
Father Neal turned to us. “He was here. Buried right here. He should have been easy to find, but I never could. I’d been around this area so many times and never felt him.”
“How is that possible?” I asked.
“The magick of the Nephilim, I would guess. They drew me out. They drew out what I guard. And they found you, Aidan. They won this round. Now, we’re all in serious trouble.” He shook his head as he stared into the hole.
Jennifer rubbed her scar. “What I don’t get is who was sacrificed? If the blood wasn’t really blood, how did they finish the spell?”
Father Neal limped over. He went pale and swayed. “No, the red substance was not the blood of a human.”
“What?”
He gave me a grim smile as he bent down to the ground. “It’s blood of a type. The blood of someone who has erased all their humanity through magick and most certainly had to be a woman to complete the Three Gates.”
“But why would she sacrifice her own life?”
“None to sacrifice, Aidan. That’s the glitch in the system.”
“I don’t get it.”
Father Neal took a deep breath. “When someone goes far enough down the magickal path, they cease to be human. Even their blood changes. This woman sacrificed part of herself. She died in some way for her master, to serve her master.”
“Who is she?” I asked.
The three of us stood on the mound as we gazed over the golf course.
“That is the question, isn’t it?” Father Neal said as he leaned on his cane.
“What do we do next, Father?” Jennifer gripped my hand, and I pulled her in close.
“We watch, my dear. And we pray.”
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Coming Soon:
3 Gates Series Book II:
The Dark Bride
3 Gates of the Dead (The 3 Gates of the Dead Series) Page 30