“It’s only when he has to,” Alex insisted, and that infuriated Ben, because the conversation was effectively ended, and Ben had accomplished nothing.
Pausing now, listening to the quiet moans of the human inside, Ben tried the door, even giving it a little force, but it didn’t budge. It was likely Heimdall had warded it with whatever sort of powers he could leave behind to keep anyone from getting inside. It was frustrating, but Ben gave up and walked back into the kitchen for a drink.
It was late afternoon, perhaps a bit too early to be drinking, but he didn’t care. Stella was busy working herself into a stupor, Andrew was god knew where, and Ben could see Alex reclined on the porch with Judas chatting away. What a fucking day, he thought as he poured the whiskey.
“Make it two?” came Mark’s soft voice as he came around the corner.
Ben wasn’t really in the mood for company, but as sour as he was feeling, he’d rather have been with someone as equally morose, unlike Alex who would undoubtedly spend his time trying to ‘lighten up the mood.’
He slid the second glass across the counter and Mark caught it, tipping a smile and a nod in Ben’s direction. “Rough day.”
It wasn’t a question, but Ben nodded anyway as he slid onto the far stool near the window. The sun was dipping lower into the sky, and he knew it was going to be a chilly night as a second fog was starting to roll in. He wondered for a moment if this place ever saw a real summer. Even in the city it got moderately warm, but no amount of fire in this place could seem to fully chase away the chill.
“Stella okay?” Mark asked, breaking the long, tense silence between them.
“Mmm,” Ben said, his mouth full of the amber liquid. He swallowed and gave a little shiver at the taste of the cheap liquor. “She’s ah…out, or whatever you want to call it. I don’t even think it was necessary, I think she was just pissed at me.”
Mark gave a slight laugh and shook his head. “Seems to happen a lot.”
Ben pulled a face, feeling his growing frustrations with her tugging at him. “She’s just so different. I realize stress tends to bring out the worst in people, but Jesus Christ.” Ben realized that his last statement could be offensive, and involuntarily he blushed and muttered, “Sorry.”
Mark chuckled and lightly cuffed Ben’s arm with the hand holding his glass. “It’s fine, seriously. I realize you got a full dose of the complete and utter madness inside of my head, but don’t worry about censoring yourself. He wasn’t Christ, anyway.”
“More like Buddha?” Ben offered and smiled back when Mark grinned. “Honestly though, man, I just…I don’t know what’s gotten into her. A little stress is one thing, and I knew I was in for some discomfort when she had to change into the other…er…Stella, or whatever. But even on her normal days, it’s like she’s becoming a different person.”
Mark cast his eyes down and gave a slight nod, setting of Ben’s warning bells. Stella was still steadfastly refusing to divulge her full secret of who she was, or who she had been before this, and Ben was suspicious that he was the only person who didn’t know. They all played dumb, of course, skirting his questions, flat out denying any information, but something was just…off.
“Is there something I need to know?” Ben finally demanded. The alcohol, though cheap, was strong and had started to loosen his tongue. “I mean seriously, Mark, what aren’t you telling me?”
“Look, we’re all under a lot of stress. Stella’s stuck in a situation she never saw herself in. Not only is she aligning herself with us, which could possibly mean her death, but she’s also still being stalked. Whoever it was that was after her hasn’t given up. It’s more likely waiting patiently in the shadows until her defenses are down. Or ours are, and that has to weigh a lot on her. So she’s lashing out. It happens.”
That made sense, though Ben didn’t want to admit it. But god help him, it did, and it calmed him down slightly. “Yeah,” he finally said, nodding a few times and feeling dizzy from the motion. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
At that moment, the back door swung open with a bang and Alex sauntered into the kitchen. “Hello boys, starting the party without me?”
Ben rolled his eyes as Alex swooped up the bottle of whiskey, poured himself a double, and then refilled Mark and Ben’s glasses. He tipped both of them a wink as he jumped up on the counter and took a long swig.
“Oh that’s terrible. Who bought that?” he grimaced.
Ben snorted and shook his head. “I’m assuming you, or whoever keeps these places stocked. It was in the cupboard.”
“I’ll have to call my assistant,” Alex said, glowering at his glass. “So what are we talking about?”
“Stella,” Mark said, but Ben shook his head, cutting the immortal off.
“No, we were done with her,” Ben said. “Is Andrew going to be back soon?”
Alex looked confused by the question, but answered anyway. “Should be sometime tonight. Why?”
“Because that kid in there is crying and I still don’t buy your bullshit excuse that this is for the best. We might be saving the world, but what’s the point if we’re torturing people along the way.”
Alex’s face went slightly dark and he took in a deep breath. “We’re not torturing him, Benjamin.”
“Keeping him half-starved in a dark, locked room for hours upon hours with no idea where he is, and no one to explain to him why he’s there is torture. Look it up, Alex. I promise you’ll find that description as one of the definitions. I swear, it’s like you’re enjoying this. It’s like you’re seeing this as a zoo, and it makes me wonder if you actually give a shit about anyone here.”
Licking his lips, Alex slowly finished off his liquor and hopped down to the ground. He crossed the kitchen and Ben almost winced by the look on the god’s face. He’d never seen him look so dark, and for the first time Ben got the distinct feeling that he was truly dangerous.
“I understand your feelings, Ben,” he said, his tone nearly polar opposite of what it normally was. “I get it that you’re defensive of your species. As well you should be, and if you weren’t a champion for humans, you wouldn’t be here today. However, I’m going to ask you once, and only once. Please do not question my loyalties again. I’m here, risking my life, the life of my vessel, exposure and mutiny of my own kind to stop this creature from harming you people.” He spat the word 'people' angrily, and it made Ben flinch. “If I thought this was a joke, or some sort of game or experiment, believe me, it would have lost its appeal when that psychotic Greek was choking the life out of that woman. So please, mind your tongue. Or I might just have to take it from you.”
With that, Alex turned on his heel and left. Mark let out a small cough but said nothing as Ben absorbed the words, absorbed the threat. He should be frightened, he knew he should, but something in him was rising. An anger, an almost electrical anger, and he wanted to chase after Alex and assert his own dominance because whatever Alex believed, he wasn’t acting on it. Ben knew he was right. He knew the kid in the room was suffering, and he knew that Alex would never understand that humans weren’t expendable. They weren’t animals or transport, and a fire started to bubble in his belly.
It was when he twitched, preparing to get off his seat, that Mark laid a hand on him. He froze, as though by force, and he looked over at the immortal with narrow eyes.
“Don’t,” Mark said quietly. “Like I said, we’re all under a lot of stress, and he’s feeling it too. Just remember this is almost over, and likely by next week, we’ll all either be free of her, or we’ll be dead. Either way, it will be finished.”
Ben swallowed back his anger and finished the whiskey in his glass. What Mark was saying was true, and Ben had to remember that this was not the time or the place to start a war with another god. Alex was acting on what he thought was best, and so was Ben. Sometimes those ideals conflicted, but ultimately they had the same goal. Ben needed to make sure he didn’t lose sight of that when all was said and done.
/> Taking a deep breath, he sat back, relaxed, and eventually Mark let him go. He blinked a few times, feeling exhausted and when he rose again, this time Mark didn’t stop him. “I think I’m going to call it an early night. We have a lot to do in the morning, and I could use the rest.”
“Good idea,” Mark agreed and he took Ben’s glass to the sink. He waited until Ben was in the doorway before he called out after him, “If you need anything, please just let me know.”
Chapter Six
“We’ve decided that it would be best if Andrew accompanies you to the crime scene,” Alex said the next morning as Ben was grabbing a cup of coffee. He was tired, having been up all night trying to process all of the information that had recently come up, and things still felt tense between him and Alex.
He was also fairly aggrieved over Greg’s death, though, and he hadn’t expected that. He didn’t know the man all that well, but he was a decent person, just trying to play the hand he’d been dealt, and most certainly didn’t deserve a gruesome death.
Around midnight, Albert had sent over the clearance for Ben to visit the crime scene, along with half the photos of the initial area. Ben had seen a lot of blood and gore, but this turned his stomach. Greg had been destroyed, almost completely, shredded and flayed, and parts of him looked burned. Only his face remained intact, an expression of horror frozen on his features. Ben didn’t want to imagine the pain Nike had inflicted upon him, and instead let his disgust fuel his anger and determination to stop her from doing this again.
He could only beg whatever deity might be listening that if Olivia had died, she had died better than this.
With a sigh, Ben nodded to Alex and looked over at Andrew who seemed to be in some sort of trance. “He’s searching?” Ben asked when Andrew continued to stand completely still.
Alex gave a short nod. “He didn’t find anything last night, but he wanted to scan the area once more before we leave.”
“We?” Ben asked with his eyebrows raised. “What do you mean we?”
“I’m certainly not sending you into the lion’s den alone, Benjy. I think the events a few weeks ago made it quite clear that if we’re going to survive Nike, we have to stick together.”
Ben shook his head, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. “I’m sorry, but no. I’m not dragging you circus freaks into a crime scene. It was difficult enough to get clearance for me, let alone for the rest of you. Let’s not forget as well that Stella is currently on the suspect list, and Mark and Jude most definitely don’t want to be seen with me or her.”
“We’re not all going to come with you there,” Alex said, rolling his eyes. “Christ, you’re so human sometimes.”
Ben wanted to snap back a sarcastic comment, but refrained, knowing it would just result in another argument he wasn’t going to win. “So fine, what’s the plan?”
“Simple, my friend, because it appears that one of the strongest portals, and likely Nike’s best chance at getting something through, is actually on this continent. Just a state away, in fact, in Arizona. Ever been?”
Ben let out a groan. “Unfortunately. So what, we head there?”
“We have reason to believe that Nike didn’t get the information she was looking for, however it’s possible she has fanned out her little group of gods looking for something close by. The moment they were to set foot in the city, they’d feel the power, so it’s best we get a jump on it.”
“Are we skipping Greg’s office, then?” Ben asked.
“No, not a good idea. We need to find Asclepius. If he’s still on this plane, he might be willing to cross over now that the last remaining descendant of his line is dead. He’s probably our best bet at getting someone to agree to this plan.” With that, Alex turned and walked out of the kitchen, leaving Ben standing there with a still entranced Andrew.
Ben slid onto the bar stool and dropped his head onto the cold granite counter. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jude sitting out on his swing, and figured it would be a good idea to let the other man know that they would be heading out soon.
As uneasy as he was with Jude, Ben got the distinct impression that Jude didn’t mind being around him. There was a calmness to him that Ben liked, and Jude had told Ben he was one of the only people he didn’t feel chaotic around.
He let the door close hard to signal his presence and Jude smiled, though he didn’t break his gaze with the landscape. “So, not sure if you heard or not,” Ben said, implying both audio and mentally hearing, “but we’re going to be heading out of town again.”
“Ah,” Jude said. He slowly looked over at Ben, his face holding his serene smile. “I had expected as much. Have we got a lead on Nike?”
Ben shook his head glumly, shoving his hands into his pockets. He felt like they were chasing ghosts now, the ghost of Greg, the ghost of his sister, possibly the ghost of Olivia who only ever had the misfortune to be kind to Ben on the boardwalk. Walking to the edge of the porch, Ben sat down and let his legs hang freely. “I guess we’re going to the crime scene to see if we can contact Asclepius. After that, if we don’t hear any updated news, I guess we’ll be off to Arizona.”
“Never been,” Jude mused in a quiet voice. Without another word, he slid from his swing and took a seat next to Ben on the ground, his legs crossed and back very straight. “I don’t mind that you know my history, Ben,” Jude said after a very pregnant pause.
Ben gave a half embarrassed smile and shrugged. “I guess I’d be irritated if someone knew intimate details of my life and I didn’t know a single thing about them.”
Jude laughed, the sound shooting right to Ben’s core. The immortal didn’t laugh often, but Ben found it was very…well…human. “I know so much about so many people. Strangers who walk by me, people on the television. Children living half a world away carry their prayers on the wind, filling my head at night with their pleas and questions. You are one of the only people whom I can’t hear,” he said and tapped his temple. “You’re quiet, cut off from me, and I’m okay with that.”
Ben looked at Jude, his head slightly cocked to the side. He could understand the desire for quiet if every second of every day was nothing but noise. Still, he had to wonder what made him special. Everyone was always going on and on about Ben’s specialness, or whatever they wanted to call it, but no one knew what it was, and no one knew why. He started to understand Mark and Jude’s frustrations with having powers and immortality, but no answers as to why they were still here, or what they were supposed to do.
At least Ben had a mission. Stop Nike, save the world, however that was going to happen as they still had only fragments of a plan, and then he’d just…go back to life as he knew it. Maybe, if Stella relaxed and started to trust him, he’d start a life with her.
“Why me?” Ben asked after some time. “Why can’t you hear me?”
Jude gave a little shrug and shifted his position so that he was leaning back on his elbows. “I don’t know. I assume it’s something to do with Mark’s writing. I could hear you before, though it wasn’t as strong as the others. I simply thought it was because you were such a staunch atheist it cut you off from me, but now I’m not so sure.”
“I guess we’re not so different. Both set on paths we don’t understand and can’t see, and no one has any answers for us,” Ben said, speaking his earlier thoughts aloud.
Just then Ben heard Alex come into the kitchen speaking rapidly to someone. He hated how much that man’s voice carried, piercing even the most quiet moments of the house. With a sigh, Ben rose and gave his back a little stretch. “Do you need to pack up?”
“I’m sure Mark has handled everything,” Jude said with a shrug. “I think I’ll just sit out here before we’re crammed back into another car for this drive.”
Ben gave an understanding nod. The idea of being back on the road, off to a gruesome crime scene, and then off to try and take down Nike, it wasn’t something Ben was looking forward to. As he sat there next to Jude while the rest of t
he house started packing up, he wondered if it was ever really going to be over.
Chapter Seven
Growling, she scrubbed at her fingernails, but the blood stains just would not come off. She’d been running her hands under scalding hot water, scrubbing with soap for over twenty minutes now, but she just didn’t feel clean.
Humans did that to her. They were rough and filthy, stumbling around without grace or tact. She hadn’t felt clean in so long, and she ached for a form that didn’t exhaust itself, didn’t require refueling and constant maintenance. The fact that she had to be aware of the bodily functions, or the heart rate, or those moments when she pushed the body so far that the vital organs wanted to give out was just simply irritating.
Nike pushed the faucet handle, turning the water off, and she ran her soaking hands back through her hair. She was a mess. Her shirt had been torn by that flailing mortal who, in the end, didn’t give her a drop of information she didn’t already know. Her hair was in tangles, and her skin still ached where the explosion had seared her.
Right now her ears were ringing from the portal’s collapse, and that in itself didn’t do anything to enhance her mood. With a sigh, she dropped the bloody towel she’d cleaned herself up with and kicked it aside with her bare foot.
Unfortunately for her, they’d taken up residence in the brother’s apartment, which meant that there was nothing for her to change into. His cupboards were stocked with tins of coffee, bottles of scotch and a takeout box of pizza that no one dared to touch. A lot of junk, and none of it useful.
She’d sent one of her followers out for clothing and food, but he’d been gone so long she had to wonder if those bastard nobodies trying to stop her had caught him and taken him out. It would be just like them, she thought as she stomped into the living room and flopped down on Ben’s most comfortable chair. It would be so like them to be in town already.
She wouldn’t have been there in the first place if that idiot, whiskey-guzzling moron had known anything. Now she had to wait on her little inside mole to contact her, and god only knew when that was going to be. Her little spy was reluctant at best, and had only made contact twice since taking up with the Norse idiots.
Cry, Nike! (The Judas Curse) Page 6