by David Risen
Dena gave her an innocent look.
For the first time in the conversation, Nick watched the High Priestess, as she called herself, soften a bit with sympathy.
“All of us here know how gifted you are including the Grand Arch Sorceress. If that were not so, they would never have called you here from California for this kind of threat.”
Dena seemed to go inside herself. She shook her head and looked down at her crossed legs.
“But I blew it. He knows I don’t work for Conrad International, and he’s also aware that the Sisterhood exists.”
Ginger gave her a smug look and laced her fingers behind her head.
“It’s a powerful thing being a woman. If we really want to control a man, it’s not difficult. Especially when the man in question cares.”
Dena gave her a pleading look. “But he’s only known me three months. I haven’t physically been with him.”
Ginger held up her finger.
“But if you believe something is true, you’ll react as though it is.”
She lowered her finger.
“You worked with addicts in California. I’m sure you’ve seen it. A man can know the exact truth about a woman as ugly as it may be, but he ignores it because he loves her.”
Ginger rubbed her lips together. “Now, if you continue the bad behavior, it won’t stay that way.”
Dena soaked it in for a moment, and then she shook her head. “I have no idea how to fix this.”
Ginger nodded. “After our nightly summoning ritual, we’re having a meeting about exactly what you should say, how you should act, and how you should dress for the occasion. You have some of the brightest and most manipulative women in the world at your disposal; you’re not in this alone.”
Dena sank.
Ginger sat back.
“I’m personally counting on your ability to pull it together and do a terrific job. If the Grand Arch Sorceress must call a Grand Assembly, it will spell the end of my career and yours as well. The point of this meeting was not to break you in half, but to issue a stern admonishment for your lack of attentiveness to this situation and deliver a wakeup call.”
Dena covered her eyes and shook her head.
“What can I do to fix this?”
Ginger leaned forward. “First, stop mailing it in. Subject A is dangerous enough to cause the sisterhood to watch him his entire life.”
Dena dropped her hand in her lap and stared at Ginger for a minute, and then she turned up her palms.
“Sure, I’ll keep better tabs on him.”
Ginger shook her head. “It’s more than that. You have to stop faking being his wife.”
Dena laughed assertively.
“I’m an initiate sister of divinity. I’ve taken vows of chastity.”
Ginger held up her hands.
“This comes from the Grand Arch Sorceress herself, so you can assume that your vow of chastity is waved.”
Dena glared at her.
“The Grand Arch Sorceress doesn’t think that Subject A will notice that not only am I a virgin, but my body isn’t as perfect as he’s always seen?”
Ginger smiled maternally.
“Subject A is perceptive, but he can’t see through a glamor. As for your sexual acumen, I don’t think he’ll care as long as it comes from a place of sincerity.”
Dena rolled her eyes.
“I’m a virgin! Not only will I have no idea how to proceed, but I’ll also bleed.”
Ginger gave her a look of compassion.
“If you want, we can perform a ritual that will summon a spirit that will help you be a perfect lover. We can do that after our meeting. As for the bleeding, a manmade tool can alleviate that problem.”
Dena looked exasperated.
Ginger frowned and patted the desktop.
“You can’t fake being Subject A’s wife. He may not recognize it consciously, but his spirit will know. We’re not dealing with a young soul here.”
Dena sighed and looked away from her. Her eyes were bloodshot and glistening with the onset of tears.
“What if I’m not good enough?”
Ginger bunched her lips. For a moment, it seemed as though Ginger might become emotional along with her.
“You’re a Sister of Divinity and the most powerful and gifted initiate in our ranks. Not only that, but you’re also beautiful. Let me offer you the same advice that I give every young woman I’ve ever counseled who entered the bonds of matrimony a virgin.”
Dena smiled humorlessly and dropped her gaze dismissively.
“I’m not really married to him. Sooner or later, this assignment will end, and the order will replace me as his surrogate.”
Ginger ducked a little to catch her eyes. “Not true. Including you, Subject A has been monitored by three surrogates his entire life. This is not the kind of calling that will go away, and it’s traditionally good for your career. It’s my understanding that the other sisters who once monitored him are now very high on the food chain so-to-speak.”
Dena looked dejected.
“So, this is it for me, huh?”
Ginger shook her head. “No, this is the thing itself. You’re in the big time now, and you’re a key player in one of our most important affairs.”
Dena’s shoulders slumped and she went back to staring a hole in the tiled floor.
“Love him, and he’ll love you back; ignore him or be indifferent, and he’ll drift away. Be cruel, dishonest, or uncompromising and he’ll run away.”
Dena turned her head toward the heavy, wooden door comprised of vertical, age-battered planks.
“So how am I supposed to explain the job thing?”
Ginger sat back in her seat and nodded.
“This situation has become much too hot for a direct magical resolution. Think of how drug addict women control their co-dependent husbands who would otherwise leave them.”
Dena turned her palms up again.
“I don’t know what that means.”
Ginger shrugged.
“Be honest about what you can’t refute, and lie about everything else. Also, it would help if, at the beginning of whatever conversation you have that you soften him up by accusing him of something horrendous. Make sure you come across as explosively angry with him. Then after you’ve shown him angry for a while, resolve the entire dispute with sex.”
She shook her head.
“I don’t know how that’s going to work. He’s got us red-handed.”
Ginger gave her a maternal smile.
“We’ll discuss direct strategies – which truths we’re going to concede and what lies we’re going to tell. We’ll discuss all of this with my counselors while on conference with The Grand Arch Sorceress and her strategic team.”
Dena looked directly in Ginger’s face.
“Why is Nick so dangerous?
Nick watched the veil go down behind the High Priestess’ eyes.
“You’re correct about the limitations of secrecy that the sisterhood imposes upon us. It is a real weakness. I don’t know everything about this situation, and I’m only allowed to tell you about a quarter of what I do know. I’m simply supposed to guide you through the rest.”
Dena nodded.
Ginger stood, and covered her bright red hair with her silver hood.
“Let’s get the summoning ritual over with, and afterwards, we’ll perform the rituals we spoke of to assist you.”
Dena sighed.
“I’ll do whatever I have to.”
Sister Amiss pulled her hand away from Nick’s forehead, and he blinked back at her, dazzled.
What the fuck is all this?
Sister Amiss passed in front of Nick and then stood beside him with her back to the concrete wall. She grasped Nick by the upper arm and pulled him away from the door.
The heavy door swung open, and Ginger filed out of the office with Dena following. Dena wore a black robe now, and wore a contrite expression.
But as soon as Dena passe
d through the doorway, she turned and looked about the hallway with alarm. Ginger, realizing that Dena wasn’t behind her, turned, and gaped.
“What’s the problem?” Ginger said.
Dena looked down the corridor in the general direction that Nick stood, and then she shook her head.
“Just paranoid,” she said.
Both women turned and descended the hallway and disappeared behind the same door that the other women entered before.
Nick stewed beside her. He didn’t know how to feel about anything he just overheard.
He looked at Sister Amiss.
These women are terrible. I can’t believe they’d offer up one of their own as a sex kitten to appease anyone.
Sister Amiss gave him a cynical look.
Let’s go see if we can find out why.
Nick gave her a terrified look, but she ignored him.
She stopped at the doorway and looked up at a strange patch of white paint above the door.
She glanced at Nick and scowled with impatience. Then she glared at the square of white paint.
Flames shot up around it tracing the lines of another pentacle, and then black ashes drifted to the stone floor leaving nothing but the white paint.
What the fuck was that? Nick thought.
She didn’t stop to explain.
She touched the skeleton key hole and the lock mechanism made a heavy clack. Then she pushed the door open and slipped inside.
Nick stood in place dumbfounded wondering who this woman was that he’d entangled himself in such a bizarre and illegal situation.
A moment later, her hand shot through the open door, grabbed a fistful of his indigo polo shirt, dragged him inside, and closed the door.
Nick found himself standing inside the room where Dena and the redheaded High Priestess just conversed.
Sister Amiss brushed past him and stepped over to the old, metal desk.
She pinched the right corner of the black HP keyboard that sat on the desk and flipped it over. On the bottom side, she found another Pentagram.
She pulled her knife back out and scraped through the circle of the pentacle.
Nick approached her staring with macabre fascination.
What the fuck are you?
She looked up at him sharply like a parent who was about to attack a misbehaving child.
I haven’t the time for this.
She reached up and touched his forehead again. This time the electric jolt nearly killed him.
Then he remembered all of it.
The near-death experience in the van.
His abduction at the hands of the Sisters of Divinity.
His name.
“Jesus Christ,” he said.
Will you shut your mouth before you get us killed?
He shook it off.
Amelia Long, he thought.
Very nice of you to remember, and now if you don’t mind.
He nodded.
She turned and faced the computer monitor, and then she tapped the enter key on the High Priestess’ keyboard.
The monitor glowed to life, and the password screen appeared with the name [email protected] below the password field.
Sister Amiss gave Rider an urgent look.
Do you know how to crack this?
Rider’s mind still reeled from the revelation – still trying to process what all of it meant.
Who was the girl he was raising as his daughter?
Why had Lauren done this to him?
Why was he not addicted to booze and pills anymore?
More importantly where was the pain from his reconstructed collarbone and left shoulder, his partially manmade femur, and all the hardware that held his pelvis together?
Amelia touched his shoulder.
Hey, snap out of it.
He looked at her the same way Captain Smith of the Titanic must have looked when the engineer first told him that the ship was going down.
If they are as savvy as they seem, that would be a terrible idea. Besides, that requires external software.
Amelia bunched her lips with frustration and she looked back at the password screen. She closed her eyes.
Rider watched still completely shocked by the revelation that he was not who he thought as her eyes danced around behind her closed eyelids as if she were dreaming. Then she nodded and looked back at the screen.
She splayed her fingers out over the keyboard, typed something in the password field, and pressed enter.
She sneered at him.
I got it from her.
Ginger’s desktop had a solid red background and a single row of icons lined the upper left corner.
Recycle Bin.
HP LaserJet.
Norton Antivirus.
A DOS Icon labeled “SODSECS.”
A file icon that read Darrien, Georgia Ward Files.
Microsoft Word.
Excel.
OneNote.
Microsoft Edge.
Mozilla Fire Fox.
Amelia grabbed the mouse and double clicked on the icon labeled Darrien, Georgia Ward Files, and a window popped up on the screen with another panel of file icons.
Ward Business.
Treasury.
Ward Specific Stewardships.
Contacts.
Subjects.
She double-clicked the file labeled Subjects – which summoned another window.
She double-clicked the first file icon in the next window labeled “Sub_US_GA_Darrien_A.”
Another window popped up with several documents.
Yet another file icon labeled surveillance, and controlled internal communication.”
A File folder labeled, “Relevant Correspondence.”
A DOS icon labeled “Compendium of Maleficent Spirits excerpt.”
She clicked the icon labeled Relevant Correspondence, and another window opened.
An Outlook icon labeled, “Letter from the Bridgeton Ward.”
An Outlook icon labeled, “Correspondence from the offices of the Arch Sorceress of the United States.”
Amelia clicked the first file, and a yellow box popped up on the screen telling her that Microsoft Outlook was loading. In a moment, it dumped her out in the document.
February 19, 2016,
To High Priestess Walden of the Darien Ward:
Upon the orders of the Arch Sorceress of the United States in coordination with the office of the Grand Arch Sorceress, we are transferring into your ward our most sensitive Subject. Due to the volatility of the situation, I thought it appropriate that I send this letter of introduction along with the subject’s timeline and his new driver’s license, Social Security Card, and Birth Certificate.
The subject’s new name and identity is Nick Carcer. To avoid any interference from his emotional memory, we’ve given him a background like his actual life, but the following paradoxes should be avoided at all costs:
1) Subject should be kept away from Subject_US_GA_Bridgeton_24. Photograph included.
2) Subject’s photograph should not be printed with any articles he writes for his new magazine.
3) No member of the AJC should meet him.
4) Subject should never travel to Bridgeton, Georgia.
5) Subject should never encounter any member of the sisterhood that has worked in Bridgeton, Georgia.
6) No hypnotherapy
7) Subject’s new medical file suggests that he’s allergic to narcotic medications. Under no circumstances is he to take narcotics as this will revive his addiction.
I’ve enclosed a digital photograph of Subject_US_GA _Bridgeton_24, and the timeline of our involvement with Subject 23. If you have any further questions, please feel free to call me or email me.
Regards,
C. Jacobs
High Priestess of The Sisters of Divinity
Bridgeton, Georgia
Amelia clicked on the attachment link titled SUB_US_GA_Bridgeton_23 Subject Intervention timeline. A new MS Word window opened.
> 1985 – Subject 23 is born. The infant is inspected by Grand Arch Sorceress Sophia Sacco and an entourage of specialists in the order, one of whom is a mystic and clairvoyant. The seer confirms that the spirit inside the infant is the Abysmal Patron. Surveillance and protection of the child begins. He is designated Sub_US_GA_Bridgeton_23.
1990 – Subject 23 enters school. The order has installed several initiates in his life so that the child is protected in every venue. His Kindergarten teacher is an Initiate of the sisterhood, and she provides weekly reports to the High Priestess in Stewardship of the Bridgeton Ward. The child is bright and well-spoken, and he’s particularly gifted with learning the written language as expected. Also, as expected he allowed a group of bullies in his school to trouble him for more than a month before he succumbed to his more violent predispositions. The bullies at his school will never trouble him again. Three of the boys are missing teeth, and the ringleader has a broken jaw.
1998 – Subject enters high school. The youth is a gifted athlete, and the Football program accepted him with enthusiasm by the football program. As expected, he is privately a sexual deviant attracted to young women who fly by the seat of their pants. Specifically, he’s drawn to the girls who wear pale makeup and wear black fingernail polish.
2003 – Subject graduates from High School. He has been a mediocre student, but his Athletic acumen has earned him a football scholarship at the college of his choosing. The Subject annunciated his desire to attend college at Auburn University, but that location would place him far too close to his imprisoned mate. The sisterhood has increased his online and physical surveillance, and it has become necessary to pay attention to his Romantic involvements. His chief watcher proposes that we install an initiate sister in his life as his girlfriend. The Grand Arch Sorceress is pleased with this suggestion, and has the priestesses researching options. Subject enters college with UNC.
2005 – Subject asks our installed Initiate to marry him, and she enthusiastically accepts. All parties are most satisfied by this turn of events, because a rumor is circulating that the Tennessee Titans are interested in Drafting Subject 23 into their NFL Team. Despite the objections by our operative in his life, Subject 23 seems intent on accepting the NFL team’s offer to draft him. After an emergency meeting, the council charged with the protection and surveillance of Subject 23 decided that it is in the best interest of all concerned to cause the young man a career ending injury.