He jumped up on the stage. Bernard sat hunched against the back wall. Stephen took slow, deliberate steps.
“Bernard, please,” Stephen begged. “We’re brothers. I know what the darkness feels like. I still feel it. I don’t want to, but I do. I want—I need you to come back. I need to know it can be done, because I still struggle with it. The others don’t know what it’s like, not like we do.”
Bernard began to laugh, only it wasn’t Bernard’s voice. It was a woman’s. It made sense to Stephen finally. This person didn’t fight like Bernard. The figure’s appearance changed until a petite woman with long, black hair remained.
She stood and mocked Stephen. “Please, Bernard. Come with me, my love. I can’t live without you.” She wiped blood from her lip. “You’re weak-minded. At least you’re easy on the eyes.” Angelique licked her lips and winked.
The woman snatched Stephen’s jaw, as though to kiss him. Before she could, Stephen slammed her against the wall. “Not in your dreams,” he seethed.
“Oh! And strong.” She continued to try to seduce him. She ran her fingers down his arms. “I’m not fighting. Surely, you wouldn’t hurt me.”
Stephen hesitated, but let go. The woman laughed. Something wasn’t right. Stephen turned to look back out into the amphitheater, realizing too late that this was the moment. This woman was a ruse, the amphitheater, his cage—in a cemetery no less. How appropriate. How stupid! Why hadn’t he seen it? Where were his other abilities?
The woman punched at him. He grabbed her fist and slung her out into the seats. She screamed in pain as she smacked the hard bench. At least I can still fight! He watched the Fallen approach. They stopped to look at the woman who lay there, writhing in pain, before turning their attention back to Stephen and continuing to the stage. Their numbers grew. How many were there? Did it matter? No. Because he’d seen the vision, he knew he’d be overcome eventually. He knew the end.
“Come on, then,” Stephen shouted. He tried not to lose control. He wanted to love each and every one of them, the same way Waltz had loved him. He was supposed to save humanity, giving it more time. That included Fallen. But he had failed.
He looked into their eyes as they lined the bottom of the stage. Who’s first? One man’s hands shook. A couple others glanced around. A woman stood there, took one step farther away. He didn’t need to see inside to know their hearts. They feared him. He had to fight. Fear wasn’t an option for him.
To his left was an older man, scars covering his face. The man’s eyes held a blank expression. He didn’t feel fear. He had been eaten with hatred and anger for so long, that was all he felt. He was the first to charge. Stupid.
Stephen punched him in the throat. The man fell backward, choking and gagging. Another charged from his right. This younger man had some skill. Keeping his distance, the boy kicked twice, then spun, swinging his back leg around for a high kick. Stephen lunged forward before the kick was complete and sent the man flying toward the edge of the stage with a kick of his own.
The others moved and let the man fall off.
Two came next, from either side. Stephen fought back and forward, dispatching them easily enough. He looked back toward the others. Their numbers continued to grow. He couldn’t get rid of them fast enough.
Three came. Then four more. Bodies flew. Screams echoed. Some were Stephen’s. Someone bit him on the leg. Surely the guard at The Tomb of The Unknown Soldier heard. Would he investigate? Stephen hoped he would not come, knowing the guard would be killed, or worse.
Stephen backed up against the wall, breathing heavily. “Lord,” he whispered, “I could use some help.”
The stage had only a few dry spots not covered in blood, most of it theirs. Moans and groans continued to echo in the night. The sun was gone. Only the stars, the moon, and passing planes lit the sky. I’ve got one more round.
The horde closed in, surrounding him. He dealt as much damage in the next moment as he had done since he became Mighty. It wasn’t enough. He fell, fetal position, trying to shield himself from what he could. His time had come. A different darkness approached. One he had felt before. This time, Areli would not come. A bright light shone. Heaven? The enemy shrieked and screamed in victory. Even victory sounds painful to them, he thought. He didn’t care. He’d soon be with Waltz, at the feet of Almighty God.
Chapter 19
Vincent stared at his friend, who laid on a bed surrounded by monitors that displayed biometrics he had only just begun to understand. Cassandra had started to teach him some of the most basic lessons in healing and being a physician to the Mighty. Not all priests were chosen to train as a healer. He, however, had shown an aptitude for it. Stephen’s injuries were far beyond his limited knowledge.
Shannon squeezed his hand. He glanced at her, having forgotten she was in the room. He looked back to Stephen, then to Patty, who sat by his side. She had not moved since she’d arrived two days ago. She refused to eat, drink, or move for any reason, stating only that she would pray and fast until Stephen awoke.
His mind raced, wondering how this had happened. They had all been fighting in Arlington. It had been ferocious. The team, along with the trainers, were being pushed back. Their powers were off somehow. Stephen chased after Bernard. Without reason, the battle changed. The Mighty fought as they should have all along. Alistair showed up, seemingly out of nowhere. Bernard returned, too, but fought alongside Mighty, with Alistair’s assurance that Bernard was a friend. Fallen were driven back and fled. The team was about to follow when Colvin received a call. They had to get back to Enclave. Joe’s vision had come true.
Joe’s vision! Vincent’s heart beat heavy in his chest. His pulse raced as he considered the role his own father had to play in it. But where was he? No one had seen Anthony, had they?
He glanced at an empty chair. “Have you heard from Alistair?” he said to Shannon. “He should be here.”
“I haven’t. I heard some talk in the hall. He’s being debriefed . . . I think.”
Amidst all the emotions and thoughts circling around inside, Vincent felt some peace and calm. He knew the feeling ultimately came from God. Shannon stayed by his side, showing a love that would never be matched on earth. Vincent’s concern focused on his friend. Shannon’s actions showed her concern to be Vincent.
Movement from the bed, followed by grunts and moaning, grabbed everyone’s attention. Shannon raised her head, looking more energetic than she had since her arrival. Vincent and Shannon both stood watching as Stephen grabbed Patty’s hand. Stephen motioned for Patty to come closer. As she leaned in, he whispered something inaudible, causing her to smile and then laugh, as happy tears flowed.
“Vincent—” Patty smiled at him. “He wants to talk to you.”
Vincent hesitated a moment before walking over. He felt somehow responsible. It was his own dad who had done this to Stephen. I should have stayed by your side, he thought.
Stephen shook his head in response to Vincent’s thought. He had heard it. Stephen motioned for Vincent to lean forward. What was so important that Stephen struggled to use words rather than simply communicating via thoughts? Vincent stopped inches from Stephen, turning so that he could better hear his friend’s feeble words.
Stephen tried to talk, but was unable. He motioned for a drink. Patty gave him a sip of water.
“Ah,” he let out after swallowing a bit. “Vincent,” he started in a raspy voice, “your dad isn’t what we thought. I think he saved me.”
“I do not understand.”
Cassandra hurried into the room straight toward Stephen. “No words, Stephen. But how do you feel?” She paused.
Vincent figured Stephen pushed his thought to Cassandra, as she nodded and smiled as though engaged in conversation. She checked Stephen’s vitals and looked him over.
“Very good. You’re healing much better than I would have thought. Many would not have made it, you know.”
Cassandra checked the machines. “Hmm. You may be out of he
re in a couple days. I’ll be back this afternoon for another session of healing.” She smiled at him and turned to the others. “You three should take a break. He’s through the worst of it now.”
She made a note in Stephen’s chart and left.
“She’s right, you know.” Stephen tried to sit up. Vincent went to assist him. “You guys need a break.” He turned to Patty. “I love you, but you look tired. Take a break. Get some food, rest, and a shower. You’ll feel better. I’ll be right here.”
Patty shook her head. “Not yet. I’m not leaving you.”
Stephen laid his head back against the pillow. “Well, I tried.” He closed his eyes. They watched as he drifted off.
“We will get you a bite,” Vincent said.
“And a change of clothes,” Shannon added.
Patty dipped her head. “Thank you, both. And make sure Alistair knows he woke up. He’ll want to know.”
****
Alistair stepped out into the corridor, the empty swish of the door closing behind him making his heart sink. For nearly two days he had been in meetings and debriefings. There was a lot to explain. And although the David, council members, and elders were satisfied, he still wanted to explain it all to one more person before seeing about Stephen.
They were given updates on Stephen’s status twice a day. Last he heard, Stephen was stable, but still unconscious. He needed to see him with his own eyes. First, he would go to talk with Vincent.
“Alistair,” Vincent called from the end of the hallway.
That’s fortunate. He walked to meet Vincent and Shannon somewhere in the middle. He hugged them both. As usual, Vincent was stiff and rigid. Shannon looked more relaxed than he had expected.
“Do you know about Stephen?” Vincent asked.
“Yes. We’ve gotten updates. It’s been a while though. How is he?”
Alistair barely asked the question before Shannon replied, “He woke up. It was only for a few minutes. But he seems well on his way to recovery.” She smiled.
“Well,” he replied, “I’m glad. I need to head over there myself. But I need to talk to Vince a moment.”
“I’d like to stay,” Shannon said.
“Yes, I think that is a grand idea, lass.” He motioned toward an empty room just off the main hall. “Let’s step inside here. This corridor will get quite noisy when meetings break for lunch.”
The three entered the room, and the door closed behind them. They were not yet fully seated before Alistair began talking.
“Vincent, I know you have questions, as does the rest of the team. Our trainers have all the details now. I wanted to speak with ye first. After all the team knows, official information will be released.
“Yer father is not the villain we thought. Joe’s vision was incomplete, like someone had tampered with it.” He watched for any sign from Vincent as to whether he should continue. There was no movement, no visible emotion. He looked a statue, as usual, with hands folded neatly on top of the table.
“Bernard, too, is not what we thought. He was, but now he isn’t. It appears that in his last encounter with Stephen, Stephen managed to break through the darkness and release the hold some puppet master had on him. Bernard had been tracking certain Fallen since, trying to learn what he could, which was his last mission with Mighty.”
Still, Vincent’s facial expression remained blank. Shannon’s eyebrows wrinkled as she placed her hand on Vincent’s forearm. “Vince, are you okay?”
“If you have questions,” Alistair interjected, “I can try to answer them.”
“Why did he not ever come back for me? Does he love me?” Vincent’s eyes began to gloss over with tears that would soon fall.
“I-uh . . .” Alistair hadn’t expected that question. “Ye’ll have to ask him. He’s here, in Enclave. He saved Stephen’s life. Ye should know that.”
Vincent wiped the tears from his eyes and stood. “I will.”
Shannon placed her hand on Vincent’s shoulder and kissed his cheek. She said something to him that Alistair didn’t register because he was trying to find words of wisdom for his friend. He found nothing.
Vincent kissed Shannon on the lips and lingered a moment. “That is one of the many reasons I love you. You continue to teach me to love.”
Alistair couldn’t believe his eyes. Vincent, though calm and reserved in appearance, looked filled with passion for the first time.
****
Vincent looked out across the reflecting pool from in front of Lincoln’s statue. In the reflection he watched the clouds moving in from overhead. The wind blew around him. A storm would be here soon.
He had asked Shannon to take Patty’s things to her, and to wait with her while Stephen slept. She had been hesitant to leave him, but he convinced her he was fine, but needed to walk and clear his head. Inside his mind and heart, a storm had already arrived; twirling, flashing, and thundering. His father wasn’t evil after all. Good. But he had left when Vincent was young and never returned. Bad. And Vincent’s mother was still missing with no clues as to where or why. Very bad.
Rain began to fall, breaking up the reflected image in the pool. He didn’t mind. The pitter-patter of the rain dancing all around calmed him. Growing up at home, he often watched the rain fall on the lake when he wanted to clear his head. How many times had he looked at the reflection in the lake, wishing it was a looking-glass mirror that would take him to his father? Now, he didn’t need a mirror. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to go to him. Odd that Anthony has returned now, of all times.
“Vincent?” A voice came from behind him.
The voice sounded unfamiliar in every way, yet something leaped inside him the moment he heard it. The young, abandoned boy who longed for his father to return knew the voice of the man behind him. Vincent didn’t respond.
“I thought you would come talk to me. You must have questions.”
The similarities in their voices caught Vincent off guard. He turned to face him. Vincent stood eye to eye with what looked to be an older version of himself, were it not for his father’s darker skin and beard stubble.
“I do,” Vincent replied. He considered the many questions swirling around before continuing. There was so much to know. “Why did they take Mother?”
“I’m not certain. I was surprised to hear about it. I didn’t know she was better, either.”
“We kept it quiet. I was concerned for her safety.” Vincent considered how he had thought Anthony was one they needed to protect his mother from. “Why was she afraid of you?”
“I don’t know. When she was Fallen, I left out of concern for you. She had used you against me. But I knew she loved you and wouldn’t hurt you if I stayed away. She also knew that if she hurt you, I’d return with fury. I love Elizabeth still. I couldn’t do then what needed to be done to take you with me. I couldn’t hurt her; not then, not now. I imagine her Fallen mind twisted the truth. Even in her redemption, it must be hard to distinguish the truth.”
“Where have you been?”
Anthony relaxed and leaned against the statue. “All around. I went back to Italy for a while. I needed the support of my family. Leaving was the hardest thing I ever did. Eventually, I returned. I’ve watched you from a distance. Through the eyes and ears of others, I’ve kept up with your life. I needed to know you were safe. I even asked Waltz for help.” Waltz? Vincent considered it for a moment before realizing it made sense. How else had Waltz known about him and who he was—what he could be?
“I met you once. It took all my strength not to tell you everything then. The day you moved into your home. You dropped a pillow, and I picked it up for you.”
Vincent’s eyes watered. “I remember. You seemed familiar to me. I thought about that for a long time. Your hair was shorter, right?”
Anthony nodded. “I hate to drop another surprise on you, but your brother has helped keep tabs on you too. He doesn’t have special abilities and chose not to be Mighty. But he wanted to help protect you, hop
ing one day we all would be united.”
Names and faces ran through Vincent’s mind, wondering who his brother might be. Was it someone at church back in St. Louis, a neighbor, or a frequent stranger? No, it couldn’t be. He seldom went anywhere other than the grocery store and work. Work. In his mind, he ran down the list of names at work. Johnson, Blair, Torres, Taylor, Friar—Friar. Abate is Italian. It means ‘abbot’. Abbot and friar are both religious titles. “Johnathan Friar?” The words crept from his mouth.
Anthony smiled and nodded. “It’s been hard on him not telling you. Now that you know, he’ll want to talk to you when you’re ready.”
“I have a brother.” Vincent smiled. “To think, Stephen is the one who noticed his potential, not me.” He laughed. “That is ironic, right?”
Anthony chucked. “Yes, it is ironic. So you know, he’s happy you and Stephen trusted him to keep things running smoothly at the company while you’ve been away. He doesn’t blame you for not giving him the chances Stephen did.”
“Why not?”
“He says he was always nervous around you, which caused him to make mistakes.”
Vincent grinned. “He always seemed uncomfortable around me. Now I understand why.”
“Maybe when we get all this mess behind us, you, Johnathan, and I can take a trip to Italy and visit family.”
“That would be nice.” Vincent watched the rain fall in silence for a moment as he let it all sink in. His thoughts wandered back to Stephen, then his mother.
“When you did find out about Mother, why didn’t you come to us?”
Anthony chuckled. “I tried. Your friend was pretty adamant that wasn’t going to happen.”
“Oh, right!” Vincent said. “That makes sense. Will you stay and help us now?”
Anthony looked Vincent in the eyes. “If that is what you want, I will stay and help find Elizabeth.”
“After that?” Vincent asked.
“I don’t know. We’ll see.”
Chapter 20
Stephen limped down the hall, crutches under each arm. He hated them. Agreeing to use them, however, was the only way he convinced both Cassandra and Patty to let him leave the medical wing. Despite his amazing recovery over the past week, it wasn’t fast enough for him. Lying in bed afforded him ample time to process everything that had been happening. But it all led to more questions, one of which he believed he had the answer to. In a moment, he’d know if he was right.
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