by T S Paul
"Do you think she went past the border?" Chuck said as he traced the road map up into the Dominion of Canada.
"Doubtful. Agatha knows what a paperwork mess it would be if she was caught up there without proper border crossing. Let alone, having a throw-down with whoever these assassins are." Bill explained as he studied the information on his tablet.
"On that, I have more information." Morgue pictures appeared on the screen. All were wearing black cloaks or hoodies. One man's entire face was burned off leaving a mess not worth describing. Two seemed to be frozen solid.
Ana explained. "These are some of the bodies recovered from Agatha's suspected incidents. If there have been others, we didn't find out about them. Mr. Crispy is from a hotel on Route 666 where she seems to have switched cars. Local police are still looking for the SUV she was driving. A fireball to the face is never pretty. Washington has identified all but him. They are all suspected members of an almost mythical organization called the Missionaries of Death."
"Sounds like a heavy metal band. What are we looking at, Ana?" Bill asked as he glanced over at a laughing Chuck.
"Bad news. They are an offshoot of the Hashshashin of ancient Persia," the vampire replied.
"Hey, isn't that the group that was called 'the old men of the mountain' or something?" Chuck asked, leaning forward to see better.
"Excellent Chuck. Yes, they were. Their primary location in the ancient world was a mountaintop fort in or around the small town of Qazvin, Persia. The Mongols eliminated the sect in the 1200s, but they were known as men who accepted death. The Missionaries are a Magickal offshoot of the originals. For almost a thousand years, they have existed in the shadows of history. As the world changed, so did they. They are known by other names throughout the modern world. The White Company, The Fighting Tigers, Hessians, and the Filibuster Army are just a few groups that they have blended in with. They are experts in the art of hiding in plain sight. Corporations use them to break into computer networks, steal secrets, and eliminate the competition using any way necessary. Up to and including the use of Magick. Our own government has used them too."
"Interesting. Could that be why the OSS wanted us to drop the case?" Cat glanced up at the camera on the ceiling.
"Possibly. The Strega have their fingers in the pockets of more than a few politicians and directors it seems. During the Demon War, the Strega saved the Missionaries from destruction at the hands of Demons. Scant information exists of what they did, but they've had a business relationship since then."
"What can we expect, Ana?" Bill found himself looking out the window.
"No idea. The word is out on us. All my Underworld contacts have fled. Anyone with any connection to us is in hiding or unavailable. Even Director Mills is out of touch. The number we have for her is out of service. Expect little help from within the FBI and other groups. We may be on our own." Ana had her burner phone out and was texting at rapid speed all while talking to the team.
Cat's mind kicked into high gear as she gave her team directions. "Bill, try your contacts and see what you can find out. I'll give my dad a call and see if the local Weres can provide assistance or know anything. Chuck, break out the maps and start planning a trip to Briarwood, Maine. If we are to fight them, it should be as a full team. Thank you, Ana. Sorry to have kept you up past your sleep time. We appreciate it." Cat made sure there weren't any questions and trotted back to Agatha's RV. Her father would be the first one she called.
< Mistress. All is prepared for your arrival. If you have to flee, I have set up safe houses and vehicles to assist you. The money and funds, as well as fake ID's, are at the appointed drop zones. I will travel between safe houses one to four on a regular basis to maintain continuum. Enclosed are the addresses and ID information. > Anastasia glanced at the text message from Ivan. The addresses covered the entire New England area. Stupid to stick around, but she did like working, and this area was her known stomping grounds. For now, she would honor her promise to the Witch. Deleting the message, she put the phone away.
~~~~~~
"Momma, was that really Cousin Agatha?" Winter Wyman walked into her mother Camilla's house without knocking. She had always done so in the past and did not expect that today should be any different. She stopped in shock at the sight of the mess. The living area with its antique Victorian furniture was in ruins. In the dining room, the antique buffet table was reduced to matchsticks. Peter Harvey, Camilla's new husband, lay on his side pushed up against the wall just outside the kitchen door. His wide-eyed stare was jarring to anyone that might enter the room. Ice crystals coated his once unblemished face. Pain was etched across his face, his mouth open in a silent scream.
"Peter!" Winter rushed over to her new stepfather and attempted to revive him. Husband number six and the most recently deceased was frozen to the wall. His skin was hard and frozen solid. Unlike most regular freeze spells, he had been hit with one that produced ice and arctic cold.
"Momma! Momma! What happened to Peter?" Winter whipped out her phone and dialed 911.
The operator came on the line immediately. "911, what's your emergency?"
"Yes, my name is Winter Wyman. I'm at my Mother's house on Hillcrest Road, and there appears to have been a break in. My stepfather is dead on the floor, and the furniture is smashed into little pieces." Winter whipped her head back and forth surveying the damages. Her eyes stopped when she noticed a figure in the doorway of the kitchen. It was her mother, standing there covered in bits of paper and wood, looking like a feral demon.
"Hang up the phone, Winter," the wild-haired woman in the doorway yelled at Winter.
"Ma'am, what is your address? I need you to step out of the house and leave. Wait in your car until the police arrive. Do you understand? Ma'am? Ma'am" The voice on the other end of the line started to get frantic. Winter stuck the phone in her purse not bothering to turn it off. The call center tried numerous times to get her attention but didn't disconnect due to policy. It was easier to trace a line if the connection existed. The open line meant that the operator could hear everything that was said while it was being recorded by the 911 system.
"Why are you here?" Camilla's eyes were an ugly shade of red, and her face was covered in scratches and pricks of blood.
"Momma, I came to ask about the situation at the diner last night and... What happened to Peter? Were you attacked? Is he dead?" Winter asked.
"Forget him. Peter was just a useless toy. I can get another one. He and those that preceded him are nothing. Just stupid mundies that I needed to pay for things. Quickly disposed of to make way for others. They all had resources I needed. That's all. A lesson for you, Winter. If you want something badly enough, there will always be a way to get it." She stepped closer to her daughter. Winter could see the damage to her mother's once alabaster skin, and the ripped and torn expensive clothing.
"A toy? Peter was kind. Autumn and I liked him. He treated our children like they were his own. He was nice!" Tears began to trickle down her face.
"Grow up. None of those mundies was anything like your father. Henry Fredricks was the prize of a lifetime in society at the time I met him. You have no idea the number of spells and manipulation it took to get him to even notice me only to have him swept away in a stupid boating accident! Why must men do reckless things?" Camilla spotted a lone side table that escaped the recent destruction.
"Humans are so easily manipulated." A fireball appeared in her hand as she tossed it at the solitary piece of furniture. "I've always hated that table. Harold's mother gave it to us," she muttered.
As if truly seeing her mother for the first time, Winter gasped. "You always told us that father died in a car accident. A drunk driver or something."
Camilla snorted. "Drunk, yes. Driver, no. He and four of his college buddies went on a drunken boat ride just after Autumn was born. They hit an underwater pier and sank in rough water. Calling it a hit and run was far easier than death by stupidity."
"And the rest? H
arrison was a good man." Winter frowned at her mother.
"A good man to you, perhaps. He was no replacement for my dear Henry. Too bad he dropped dead at the bar that night. It would have been while he drove home if he hadn't had just one more drink that night." Camilla shook her head. "For power, sacrifices have to be made."
"It's true then? Those nasty rumors when I was in school are true?" Winter stamped her foot.
"Rumors? Which ones?" Camilla queried her daughter.
Winter glared at Camilla. "The ones that said you were killing your husbands."
"Oh. I thought you might have meant the one where you slept with the tennis coach to join the team. Perhaps when you traded your sweet sixteen bracelet to the history teacher for a better grade. When you referred to school, that is what came to mind. My own transgressions were much, much bigger and more intricate."
Winter's jaw dropped open, and she stared at her mother in shock. "How?"
The disheveled woman began to laugh. "How did I know? Please. The is my town. I know everything that happens in it. You should have told me, and I might have helped. I bet you wondered why Coach Timothy never came back for the next term. Such a nasty fall he had. The Grand Canyon is a dangerous place for the unwary. Grown men touching underage girls is a big no-no especially if it's my daughter."
"What about Agatha? Why isn't she in an institution like you said?" Winter watched as the scowl turned to instant fury on her mother's face.
"Agatha! She should have been in the damn car with her father. But no, my idiot sister has to take her berry picking in the dammed Garden that day. Boom, crash no more daddy! I can't win. Just like the demon horse. Even a mad unicorn couldn't rid me of the little pest. So my mother takes her in, ruining all my plans." Camilla waved at the rear windows breaking all of them.
"You told us she was locked up somewhere. You said she did evil, destructive magick that forced Grandmother to send her away."
"That's another one against me! Marcella, your grandmother. She told me with a straight face that Agatha was in Europe, away at school. What a crock! She just turns up here with a government badge on! More plans in the crapper. She needs to go, she is all that stands in my way to take over the coven and the town. It should be mine. I deserve it. He told me it was my destiny!" she shrieked. Police sirens made Camilla stop and peer outside.
"Stupid girl! Who did you call?" Camilla shouted.
Winter pulled out her phone and stared at it. "Hello?"
"Ma'am we need you to stay where you are. Officers are at your location..." Winter hit the power button and turned the phone off. "The police are here."
Camilla shook her head. "Hard to believe you're mine. He warned me about my family. Said they would turn against me." Grabbing her purse off the table, Camilla stared at her daughter. "Stay out of my way, and you might survive this."
Winter looked at what she thought was a happy home and cried. She couldn't believe her mother was a killer. Deep in her heart, she screamed. The disgraceful secrets she had tried to hide her entire life were already known to this woman. The first gunshot jarred her, and she ran to the front door. "Mom!"
Winter rushed through the house dodging the piles of shattered furniture until she reached the front door. It was now hanging ajar by one hinge. Outside the front yard looked like the set of an apocalyptic movie. The town's only two police cars were on fire. Chief Cappy's car was burning in the middle of the driveway. Melted plastic and metal dripped from the car that had carried many a prom queen in parades. Winter could remember her own experience. Several bodies dressed in blue lay scattered on the lawn and driveway. The one closest to the house looked like a boy who had been in school with her. He wasn't breathing. "Cappy? Cappy! Are you out here?" Winter started calling for the police chief.
A faint cry of "over here" made her turn and look in her mother's prized azaleas. Cappy lay in a crumpled heap, crushing the mass of pink flowers. His head appeared to have gone completely through the terracotta planter.
Winter leaned into the large bush and grabbed the much older man by his belt pulling him free. "Are you all right?"
Cappy lay on the ground gasping for breath. Blood trickled down his chest pooling at his armpit. A large branch stuck out of his side. "They have to be warned. Winter, you have to warn them. Camilla's going to kill Agatha."
Winter stared at the Chief of Police with her phone in her hand. His breathing had slowed, and she thought he might be going into shock as he passed out. The choice between warning her family or saving her mother loomed large in her mind. Who did she truly love the most?
~~~~~~~
Agatha was dreaming. She was in the Garden at night. Someplace that she was never allowed to be. The moon was full, and the night blooming flowers filled the air with scents of jasmine and chocolate. The chocolate scent surprised her so much she paused in her walk to sniff at the little yellow flowers. "What are you, my pretties?"
"Those are chocolate scented daisies. They come from the southwestern part of the country. But as you know, everything will grow here in the Garden."
I jumped as the woman started to speak. Looking eerily like Grandmother, her Victorian style dress almost glowed in the moonlight. "Who. Who. Who are you?" I asked.
She laughed. Her voice was a rich bell sound that almost chimed in harmony with the night and the sounds of the Garden. "You sound like an Owl I know. He would laugh himself silly at a human making those sounds. I am one of this place's Guardians. It is my task to watch and to protect the door."
"The door. What door?" I glanced around me stupidly looking for an actual door.
She looked at me sternly. "Marcella spoke to you at length about the door and where it leads. Just as we can go through it, others can arrive through it. You must ever be watchful for what enters into our world. Much of what has been lost can be found there. Be wary of what comes out, Agatha. Trust no one. Not even those that mean you well."
I gazed at the much older woman with shock. She sounded like Grandmother when she was on a tear about something.
"Who are you exactly?" I asked as she took my arm and pulled me after her, following a path I didn't recognize.
"I told you. I'm the Guardian. Come on, I need to show you something." She pulled me down the path. For someone that looked so old, she had muscles of steel.
The path went past the night garden and into a small copse of trees. Benches and a small gazebo were set up overlooking a fish pond. I had been in the Garden many times with Grandmother, and this was new even to me.
"My husband used to bring me here to talk and watch the fish. Come, we are running out of time." She led me past the benches to the gazebo.
"Your husband? Was he one of the workers? How did you know this was here? I don't understand?" All I had was questions. This woman wasn't making any sense.
"All will be revealed in time, Agatha. You must trust that the Gods truly do have a plan for you. Something important is about to happen. You need to enter the gazebo, Agatha." The woman gave me a slight push in the direction of the stairs.
"I'm not a fan of destinies and no one, but no one touches the Witch!" My eyes momentarily flashed with power.
"Good. Establish yourself early. Use that attitude with the men, and they will believe you mean business. Good girl, Agatha. Please step up. I can't make you, but what lies inside will change you and change the world. One of your life's desires is to help people. Please, take the step."
Eying the stairs, I couldn't help but think this older woman had led me this far without attempting to harm me. Just who she was made no sense to me, but I felt she might be telling the truth. There were only three steps so throwing caution to the wind I climbed the stairs.
"I knew you could do it, Agatha. Now I have one final task for you. The family and the FBI need a Guardian to combat evil. You are already halfway there."
"What does that mean? I already work for the FBI. Grandmother told me something of the Guardians. All I have is this." I slid my sleeve
up showing off the bracelet on my arm.
"Yes. That is Proof. When joined with Certainty, they have the combined power to overcome almost any obstacle."
"Proof. Are you saying the bracelet is called Proof? How do you know that?" I stared harder at the old woman.
"I'm a Guardian. I'm supposed to know everything. But they belonged to me if you must know."
Not believing my eyes, I almost pinched myself. "Verity?"
"Yes, child. Not all who pass on truly leave this plane. You must trust me. Certainty awaits you. You have only to put it on." She pointed to the center of the gazebo. There on a stand sat another gold bracelet exactly like the one I already wore. This one's hieroglyphics were easier to see.
"Guardians only wear one. Grandmother said only one was issued to them."
"Issued yes, but not inherited. These are a pair of the first ones. They are ancient. The Guardians of the Underworld wore two. One to fight and one to find. Each complements the other. There is no parity without the other. I should know. I wore them my whole life. Put it on, child. Time grows short."