Patty tried to interrupt, but Stephen didn’t let her. “I know you’d gladly help me. And maybe you could handle it. It’s stuff I don’t want to you have to handle yet. Someday, maybe.”
Vincent walked up. “Sorry to interrupt. Patty, would you mind if I drove Stephen back to the office? I need to talk with him briefly about something sensitive.”
“No, not at all.” Patty quickly kissed Stephen on the cheek. “I love you.”
As Patty walked to her car, the two remained standing in the rain.
“No umbrella?” Stephen asked.
“No, I loaned mine out.”
They walked to Vincent’s car as the rain turned from a drizzle to a downpour. Water dripped from their clothes onto the car’s leather seats. Stephen tried to find something to soak up the water, but he had no such luck.
“It will be fine,” Vincent said with a smile.
Stephen sat, quiet. Vincent started the car and waited for an opening in the traffic.
“We haven’t really spoken about my dad since we got back,” Vincent said.
“I know. I’ve been thinking about it.”
“I figured as much,” Vincent replied. “I want you to stop.”
“What? Why?”
“I am not ready yet. I need training and to learn more. And, I need to help my friend. My father has waited this long; he can wait longer.”
“Are you sure?”
“Very sure. It was not fair to throw more on you. I know I can count on you when the time comes. Right now, you need help, not a distraction.”
“Thank you.”
“Thank me by training me.” Vincent pulled the car away from curb. “Do you have any idea where to start?”
“Unfortunately, I do. We need help, someone we can trust.”
“You want to tell Patty?”
“No,” Stephen snapped. “Eventually, yes. Not now though. I was thinking of someone like us. I believe I know a person we might be able to trust. I’ll need to meet with him and question him, if he agrees.”
“Call him then.”
“That’s the problem. I don’t know how to get in touch with him. He was at Waltz’s funeral. And he found me again later.”
“How do you know you can trust him?”
“I don’t, not one hundred percent. That’s why we need to meet. But I have a feeling that if I couldn’t trust him, I’d already know it.”
“How so?” Vincent asked.
“I think the Mighty would be knocking at my door.”
“Why not Bernie? Can he help?”
“I don’t think he wants any part of this life anymore. He keeps cautioning me not to trust them—the Mighty. He might be right. But for now at least, I don’t see another option.”
“I guess we better see what we can do to locate . . .”
“Alistair,” Stephen replied. “But first, we have guests to entertain.”
Before long, Vincent pulled into the parking lot at their office. They made their way upstairs to join the others. Vincent began talking with people, something he had committed to getting better at. Stephen shook hands and strategically moved through the crowd looking for Patty. He spotted her auburn hair easily, catching up to her in front of the plans and model of the kitchen. She was explaining it all to a blond-haired gentleman, whom he recognized immediately.
“I see, lass.”
“I hope you’re not here to try and steal my girl.” The two turned and faced Stephen. “Alistair, I’m really glad to see you.” Stephen reached forward to shake his hand.
“How ye doin’?” Alistair asked, his Scottish accent thicker than before.
“Good, and you?”
“I’m guid.”
“I was just showing Alistair the plans for the homeless kitchen,” Patty said.
“And?” Stephen looked at Alistair.
“Ye need to make sure the telly has footie.” The three of them chuckled. “Stephen, I need to speak with ye for a few, if’n Ms. O’Connor can spare ye.”
“It’s fine, hon. There are plenty of people here I need to talk with anyway.”
“Thanks.” He motioned to Alistair. “This way.”
The two walked back to Stephen’s office. He closed the door and motioned to a couple of chairs in the corner. “Please, sit.” After an awkward moment of silence, Stephen began. “You’re accent is thicker than before.”
“Yeah, it is. I’ve been back to Scotland. It always gets a bit thicker when I go home.”
“Makes sense.” Stephen tapped his fingers on the small table. “What are you doing here? I’m glad to see you and all. In fact, I was wondering how to get in touch with you. But why are you here?”
“Well, ye know ’bout me gift, how it works.”
“Yeah, you see visions a day before it happens, and they guide you.”
“Well, yesterday I had a vision of you and me sitting here. So I came.”
“Hmmm. Do you know why?”
“No clue. But just this morning I had another vision. I saw you, Vincent, and myself together. I’m guessing ye told him about your abilities.”
“I did. Do you know why?”
“No. I just know that I need to be there tomorrow. If I have a vision with me in it, it serves as a suggestion. In other words, it’s telling me that this is what needs to happen.”
“Alistair, I need to go into your mind.”
“What? You can do that?”
“Yes, it’s my gift.”
“You’re a seer, a prophet?”
Stephen nodded.
“But I thought ye were a warrior.”
“Why would you think that?” Stephen asked, sitting up a little straighter.
“Just the way ye handled yourself the last time we met.” Alistair appeared in thought for a moment before shaking his head. “No matter. You need my permission to see inside my mind?”
“No,” Stephen replied, “not at all. But I respect you. So I’m asking. I need to be able to trust you. To trust you, I need to see inside your head. I’m leaving that decision up to you.”
“If I say no?” Alistair asked.
“Then the vision you had this morning will be nothing more than that—a vision.”
“I see. Heid doon, arse up.”
“Excuse me?” Stephen didn’t understand.
“It’s a Scottish expression. Translation, get on with it then.” Alistair grinned.
Stephen looked into Alistair’s mind and began searching. There was so much knowledge there on the Mighty and the Fallen. However, Stephen searched for something that would show him Alistair could be trusted. He saw Sam and Anastasia sitting in a room with several others he did not recognize, although Alistair did. They were the council of the Mighty, twelve in all. The room looked to be adorned in brilliant blue and purple tapestries. The table the council sat at made a semicircle and was covered in a red cloth. Council members wore white robes, each with a medallion hanging from a necklace and pendant that signified their class. Each had large colored cuffs around their wrists, signifying a hierarchy. Only Sam wore gold-colored cuffs. They questioned Alistair about Matthew.
“Yes, I had help.”
“And who helped you?” Sam asked.
“I apologize. I cannot tell ye,” Alistair replied.
“Why not?” a man with a French accent asked.
“I had a vision of today. All the questions were asked, and I refused to answer questions concerning this person.”
“Why should that matter? We are the council,” another demanded in a slavic accent.
Alistair looked at the man seated at the end. He appeared younger than the other members but older than Alistair. His name was Novak.
“Novak,” Anastasia chimed in, “when Alistair’s visions include him, they serve as a recommended course of action, the way things should happen. It goes very badly when it doesn’t happen the way the vision indicates.”
Sam spoke up. “It’s true. I believe most of the members also know this to be
the truth.”
Several nodded.
An Asian man next to Novak stood. “It’s clear to me that the questioning is over. I believe we have all the answers the Lord intends us to have . . . for now.”
“Thank you, Xiang.” Alistair kneeled down and bowed low to the ground.
The council stood and returned the gesture with modest bows.
Stephen withdrew from Alistair’s mind.
“You kept your word. You didn’t tell,” Stephen told him.
“As I said, it’s not my secret to tell. Besides, I’ve not had visions that would make me think yer the enemy.”
“Thank you.”
“Stephen, I need to be honest with ye though. If ye ever do become the enemy, if ye don’t make the right choice, the council will know. Ye have a choice to make. I sense that ye still struggling with it. I get vague, fuzzy images of you in the future. They become clearer the closer they get. I like you. I hope ye make the right choice.”
“I understand.” Stephen walked over to his desk, then jotted something on a piece of paper. “This is my address and phone number. Meet us there tomorrow.”
Alistair walked to the door. “Don’t need it, mate. I saw it in me vision.” He grinned and left Stephen holding the piece of paper.
Stephen wadded the paper and threw it in the trash can. “I should’ve figured.”
Chapter 16
The next day, Stephen, Vincent, and Alistair sat in Stephen’s living room staring at one another in awkward silence. Vincent sat on the couch, while Alistair and Stephen sat in chairs on the other side of the coffee table. Lightning flashed outside the windows, and thunder echoed in the apartment.
“So, should we eat first?” Stephen broke the silence and pulled out his phone. “I can order pizza.”
“Probably not a good idea.”
“Why not? I am hungry,” Vincent interjected.
“Sometimes this type of training can make the uninitiated, well, sick.”
“I’ll order after a while.” Stephen set his phone on the coffee table.
“Good idea,” Vincent agreed.
“You’re welcome, fellas.” Alistair looked to Vincent. “So, yer a priest.”
“Apparently so.”
“But ye don’t really know anything about using your powers.”
“Correct.”
“Stephen, show me what ye know.”
“Show you?” Stephen gave him a puzzled look.
“Yeah. You and I, we’re seers. Our gifts come from the mind. We can share things mentally. Where ye might damage some without any powers, or cause discomfort for someone with other powers, sharing thoughts or ideas with someone else who has mental powers should be harmless.”
“Interesting. I’ll give it a try.” Stephen entered Alistair’s mind and began thinking about all he knew of Vincent’s gift, which wasn’t much.
“What?” Alistair looked at Vincent with a confused look on his face. “That doesn’t add up. Yer parents are Fallen.”
“My father is. My mother is reformed. She was largely impacted by him. Eventually, he left.”
“Amazing,” Alistair exclaimed. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul. It’s not my secret to tell.” He looked back to Stephen and smiled. “I guess we should get started. I think we should start with teaching him how to control the gift. Ye see, right now, he seems to have built some type of constant protection. Possibly it’s instinctual. For example, Stephen tries to read you and the wall goes up.” He turned his chair to face Vincent. “Vin—can I call you that?”
Vincent shrugged while rolling his eyes. “Sure.”
“Vin, I want ye to focus on the wall, meditate like Waltz had ye do. Only, when I tell ye, imagine the wall going down. Stephen is going to look inside your mind. I want ye to allow him to. Stephen, focus on his feelings while yer in there. Got that?”
Stephen and Vincent both nodded.
Vincent closed his eyes, and his breathing slowed. After a moment, Alistair asked Vincent to lower the wall, then motioned to Stephen.
“It’s down. I can feel him without entering his mind. I’ve never been able to sense him before.”
“Can ye see inside?” Alistair sat on the edge of his seat.
Stephen tilted his head. “Yes, I can. Vincent, you don’t have to be nervous.”
“Vincent’s nervous, huh?” Alistair’s eyes roamed, as though looking for something. “Here’s what ye do. See if ye can calm his nerves. Like ye shared yer thoughts with me, see if ye can gently share yer feelings and emotions with him, establish some type of link.”
“I think it’s working. Vincent, how do you feel?”
“Strangely, I do feel much calmer, even though I can feel you inside my mind. I am being affected by it. I cannot say how exactly.”
“Vincent, you have a little bit of the dark side, don’t you?” Stephen jested.
Stephen jerked back, knocking his chair to the floor. Alistair and Vincent both jumped to their feet. Alistair rushed to help Stephen up.
“You alright, mukker?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Stephen dusted himself off. “What the heck was that?”
“Sorry, I panicked,” Vincent said.
“What are ye panicking for?” Alistair looked at Vincent sternly.
“It’s alright, Alistair,” Stephen said. He could still feel some type of connection with Vincent, although he was unable to see inside him anymore. You alright? I know you’re scared and what you’re scared of. You don’t have to be.
Vincent nodded.
“Alright, what’s going on?” Alistair looked back and forth between the two.
“He forced me out, but we’re still connected somehow. If I throw my thoughts at him, he can still hear them.”
“Either of ye want to tell me what bloody happened?”
“Go ahead, Stephen—tell him.” Vincent sat back down.
“I saw something in Vincent, while searching for emotion. Fear. He . . . uh . . . he’s afraid he’ll fall, like his parents did. I saw the fear. It’s holed up in his mind. Others’ fears tend to be rampant. His is contained in a small area.”
“Because he’s a priest. Priests rarely turn. Their abilities instinctively protect them from emotions and thoughts that might hurt or weaken them. The ones who turn do it because they lose faith or simply want to be evil. It’s extremely rare.”
“Well, I say we take a small break, let Vincent relax again.” Stephen went over to the kitchen and took glasses out of the cabinet. “I don’t keep much to drink aside from water and juice.”
“Water,” Vincent stated.
“Same,” Alistair added.
Stephen filled three large glasses at the faucet as the other two men made small talk. With the water running, he wasn’t able to hear much, only a loud boom of thunder followed by laughter. Grabbing the filled glasses, he turned to rejoin them.
The room went dark. Stephen stood in the silence, surrounded by darkness once more. Something wasn’t right. Not only could he feel another presence, but prickles of pain spread across his chest and arms.
Where are you? What do you want with me, Fallen? Stephen waited for an answer.
After only a moment, he heard faint whispers echo.
You . . .
You can’t have me. I’ll find you and stop you, Stephen replied.
Join us . . .
Never. Stephen projected his thoughts with force. He felt the presence withdraw only for a moment.The pain in his body continued growing, making it harder to focus.
Emotions of fear and loneliness began to flood Stephen’s mind, causing him mental torment he had not ever felt before. Stop it. He tried to be more forceful with his thoughts, but the pain continued to increase. In the darkness, he could hear a familiar voice.
“Ye have to, Vincent. It’s the only way.” Alistair paused. “Do it now!”
Stephen opened his eyes to find himself lying on the floor, Alistair and Vincent knelt beside him.
“What
happened?” Stephen slowly sat up, his body still hurting. He saw a fair amount of blood on his clothes and had shards of glass sticking in his arms and abdomen.
“Ye will need stitches,” Alistair informed him. “Nothing seems to be too deep.”
“What happened?” Stephen glared at Alistair.
“Ye were attacked by one of the Fallen.” Alistair glanced at Vincent, then back to Stephen. “Vin had to take a crash course in protecting someone else. He put up a wall around you, effectively kicking the other person out.”
“Thank you, Vincent.”
Vincent nodded.
“They want ye, don’t they?” Alistair helped Stephen to his feet. “Has anything like this happened before?”
“Yeah, kind of. Someone tried to get into my head when Waltz was alive. Unsuccessfully, I might add. Waltz never said it, but I believe he kept them out. The attempt was painful. After he passed, I’ve had a couple of visions, like dreams. I’m in the dark, but someone is there with me. Waltz had told me before he passed that they’d found a way in, a weakness.”
“Anything more?” Vincent asked.
“This isn’t the first attack since he passed. Each seems to invade further into my mind. But this is the first time I’ve been awake when it happened. I don’t know how to stop it.”
“We’ll get this figured out, I promise. For now, we need to get ye to the hospital.” Alistair looked at Vincent. “Will ye drive?”
“I will bring the car to the door.” Vincent walked toward the door.
“Call Patty, please,” Stephen said. “If we don’t tell her, she’ll kill me. Your hard work will have been in vain.”
Vincent smiled and pulled his phone from his pocket as he disappeared through the doorway. Alistair helped Stephen walk out and down the stairs, where Vincent waited with the car door open. Once all three were in, they hurried to the emergency room.
****
Stephen lay on a bed in the hospital room wearing a hospital gown wrapped around his waist exposing several shards of glass sticking out of his torso. “This sucks,” Stephen exclaimed with slurred speech while looking at his chest.
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