by Stephen Ayer
“Damn nice to have something so open and shut.” said Bill, standing beside Peter and keeping his eyes on the container before turning around. “No nasty blowback. No survivors, no one to rat us out. No problems.”
Peter smirked and followed him off the shipping boat’s disembarkation ramp. “Oh I think you might have some work to do in Rabat and London. Not to mention a certain villa in Italy...”
Bill laughed. “Rabat handles itself. A lesson to the police chief of what happens when criminality goes unchecked. For London, we got a godsend that when the police tested the partiers. Half those kids were high on something.” As they came onto the dock he slipped on his sunglasses and the two headed to his car.
“And they just had the bad luck to be in the same club as a bunch of international ‘terrorists’.” said Peter.
“Damn right. You catch on quick. As for the Italian situation...” he sighed and looked at Peter. “You’re right. That’s... that’s going to take some work. We’ve got some guys embedded in their government to make that shitfest look like everything it isn’t.”
Peter nodded but didn’t come any closer to the man’s car. “Well then, William. I’d say my mission is concluded and my time here is done.”
Bill rose up a finger. “Wait, before you go... could you do me a favor?”
Another? The angel knew well what he meant. “Frank.”
“Yep. We can find him. We always find him. Now that we’ve got that brand on him. But I’d rather we not find him under a pile of our agent’s bodies.”
Peter considered. He didn’t feel that immediate urge to relinquish his mortal shell as he often did in ages past upon completion of his holy mission. It would give him an opportunity to become more acquainted with modern man. He looked back to Bill.
“I’ll do it.”
Epilogue
Aquitaine, France
A low wind blew across a hilltop grave overlooking the sea, white capped and gray, as tempestuous as the dark and churning sky. It was a secret place, one among many in the country that Charlemagne built, its markers having long eroded over the passage of time. Its occupant was of no note, at least to those who were, just another player in the endless cycle of life and death.
Just another player to all but one.
Frank ran his hands through the tall, swaying grass, taking in the damp sea air as he knelt down in the ancient dirt. He felt the past. The familiar sensations set off a chain reaction of remembrances through his soul, and though he could never take in the past as if it was a fresh occurrence... he could get an impression.
The shadow of a memory. Evidences of the searing brands made upon his soul, but never the brand itself.
Through a cloud he saw her. Indistinct images filled his mind. A lingering glimpse of gray eyes, a flicker of auburn hair, a flash of a smile upon a gentle, beatific face. He had defended her, claimed her as a mate, and wreaked bloodshed, misery and slaughter upon those who would deny him his slice of mortal delight.
More than her appearance, or his wanton killing, what made the greatest impression... was the feeling. Someone cared for him, truly cared. It was strange for him to contemplate. Stranger still was that he cared back. The smell of fresh baked bread wafted under his nose, the heat of the hearth greeted his skin, her mirthful laughs resonated in his ears, and the taste of her soft, sweet lips, lingered in his mouth.
The warmth of her body soothed his soul and for a time, even the severe vampire, prince of discord that he was, knew love.
But, as with all things, there is always an end. Over the years they moved from passing each other off as young lovers, to husband and wife, mother and son until finally, upon her deathbed, grandmother and grandson. No matter the passage of time, he always saw the same young woman he met on that one fateful night.
In those days it was easier to hide what the years could not. And of those days, not a single one went by in which he was not tempted to bring her into his dark embrace.
If she ever asked for it, he was not sure he could resist.
Maybe I could. The same force that kept him from changing her would have been the same force that would deny her request. Love. He could never willingly damn that which he cherished above all else. Her sweetness, her naïvete about the world, her goodness... who knew what would remain, with her soul’s virtue dulled and its malevolence sharpened.
For that, the pain of her loss was but one fleeting moment, eased by the distance of time and the fading of memory. The torment of her everlasting life however, joyful at first, before the very same passage of time made the transcendent lowly, the heavenly earthly, hollowing out what remnants his vampiric gift could not, leaving her just as him: a man out of time, yet at the end of it, one who craved the spark of life, yet had none of it.
A murderous wraith, a mockery of the human soul, afflicted with a kind of indifference to beauty, hardship and wonder that only eternity could bring.
He took a deep breath, opening his eyes to the sloshing sea once more. It’s better this way. She was where she belonged. Not by his side, not underneath him, but in his soul; a haven in the nightmare of his existence. The vampire needed only close his eyes... and he would be there again.
He stood up, straightening his jacket and dusting off his knees. “How did you get here?”
“How did you know I was here?”
He grinned. “The burning gives the game away.” He turned around, seeing Peter wearing the opposite of his usual attire, his suit black as midnight while his waistcoat stood out from underneath his dark layers, its bone white threads standing out underneath the overcast sky.
Peter extended his hand, his eyes taking in the scruff marks on Frank’s jeans, puzzled by the fact that his eyes seemed to be shining more than usual. “Apologies. I’m working on dialing it back.”
Frank pulled away from his shake, looking at his palm. “I can tell.” He pulled out a cigarette, facing the sea once more as he lit up. “So how did you find me again? And what does Bill want now?”
The angel folded his hands behind his back and walked to Frank’s side. He admired the waves and tried not to let the cigarette smoke ruin his enjoyment. “I’m an angel, Frank. And it is mighty presumptuous to think that I would just be here on William’s account.”
“Aren’t you?”
“Yes. But that doesn’t take away from the fact that I came to honor your mourning for your departed love.” He pointed to his suit, running his fingers along the buttons before putting his hands back in the pockets. “Hence, the suit.”
How did he know about her? Frank shrugged. “Eh. Don’t worry about it. She popped off around nine hundred years ago.” He dropped his cigarette, rubbing it into the earth, to the bewildered stare of Peter, who couldn’t decide if he was more shocked by his apparent disregard for fire hazards or for those he loved.
“Your attitude is like sharp mountain air to untrained lungs.”
Frank looked at him askance, his brow furrowing. “What the hell does that mean?”
“I still have to get used to you.” He turned to face Frank, looking him square in the eyes. “One does not do all that you have done, for a love to mean so little.”
“Hey. Stop right there.” Frank met the angel’s gaze. “A love? Come on. There’s ladies just like her littered all over my history. We screw, they age, they die.” He sighed. “That’s it. Over with, finished.” Peter saw more in his eyes than what his body let on, but said nothing. “Anyway... what does Bill want?”
“You back in Templar servitude, of course. And another job. Warlocks in Berlin.”
“Sounds like a band.”
The angel tossed him a yellow package. “I’m sure he wishes it were, rather than a Luciferian cabal with their eyes set on one of the German’s domestic gold stores. They want it for Hermetic alchemy.”
“And the Templars? This seems too low key for them...”
“The gold was blessed by Saint Otto of Bamberg. It has symbolic value.”
; Frank picked out black and white images of his targets. “Yeah I’m sure Bill assured you the fiscal value had nothing to do with it...” He flipped through more photos. Even when disguised in modern attire they struggled to conceal the sheer amount of jewelry on their person, strange necklaces and gleaming silver rings with frosted gems. “Looks like a shit job. I’ll think about it.”
“No you won’t. You’ll do it because I’m your handler now. It was finalized on my way over. We’re going to Berlin.”
Frank shoved the package and pictures back in the angel’s arms and chuckled. “Ah, well played Billy boy. Send an angel after me. Bastard.” He looked down the waving long grass of the hill and saw a black car parked further down the road, nearly invisible in the dark gray gloom cast of the sky. “So they got their hooks into you too, huh? You’re like a hitman from heaven, go anywhere, do anything. Why sign up with these cocksuckers?”
Peter trudged down the hill, fishing out his car keys. “Connections. And your presence notwithstanding, they’re still the least debased of the orders set down to protect this realm.”
“I didn’t see any demons in that briefing, just a bunch of crazies. Isn’t that a bit outside your wheelhouse?”
Peter stopped before his car door. “I’m flexible.”
Frank got inside, noticing the fresh yet synthetic scent that permeated the upholstery. Impressive, didn’t know they got them straight from the factory. As Peter got inside a strange thought occurred to him. “Hey. You said that body you’re in had a wife, right?”
“Yes.”
Frank leaned his seat back and folded his arms behind his head. “You should see her, if you get a break in between all this Templar shit.”
Peter paused. What a nonsensical idea. “Why? I’m not the same man she loved. There’s no point.”
“It’s for her. I’ve always wanted to visit one of my conquests. Without killing them. Just a conversation to see how their lives have changed while I’ve been doing what I do.”
“Without killing them... what kind of relationships were these?”
“Short and passionate.”
As the two drove away under the bent and swaying trees, the dark sky roiling before them like a rumpled black cloak, the dead leaves sputtering up behind their red lighted wake, the angel gave the faintest of concessions.
“Perhaps.”
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1: The Frank
Chapter 2: Till Death Do Us Part
Chapter 3: The Angel’s Back In Town
Chapter 4: The Light Meets Its Shadow
Chapter 5: The Seeker
Chapter 6: Fly By Night
Chapter 7: Lady of Ice and Shadow
Chapter 8: The Wolf Goes East
Chapter 9: Arrival
Chapter 10: War Dog
Chapter 11: In the Dark
Chapter 12: The Duke
Chapter 13: Red Sun
Chapter 14: Lupus Iberorum
Chapter 15: Chains of Flame
Chapter 16: Masters
Chapter 17: Dead Flames
Chapter 18: The Lord of Opium
Chapter 19: Reunions
Chapter 20: Reflections
Chapter 21: Sought and Found
Chapter 22: Palazzo della Strega
Chapter 23: Uninvited Guests
Chapter 24: Showdown
Chapter 25: A Tale of Two Cities
Chapter 26: The Wrap Up
Epilogue
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1: The Frank
Chapter 2: Till Death Do Us Part
Chapter 3: The Angel’s Back In Town
Chapter 4: The Light Meets Its Shadow
Chapter 5: The Seeker
Chapter 6: Fly By Night
Chapter 7: Lady of Ice and Shadow
Chapter 8: The Wolf Goes East
Chapter 9: Arrival
Chapter 10: War Dog
Chapter 11: In the Dark
Chapter 12: The Duke
Chapter 13: Red Sun
Chapter 14: Lupus Iberorum
Chapter 15: Chains of Flame
Chapter 16: Masters
Chapter 17: Dead Flames
Chapter 18: The Lord of Opium
Chapter 19: Reunions
Chapter 20: Reflections
Chapter 21: Sought and Found
Chapter 22: Palazzo della Strega
Chapter 23: Uninvited Guests
Chapter 24: Showdown
Chapter 25: A Tale of Two Cities
Chapter 26: The Wrap Up
Epilogue