2 The Judas Kiss (10 page)

             
Ben gave a slow nod.  “I was attempting to find them before you stopped me… whoever you are.”

             
“I was once called Heimdall, but I suppose that would be an unacceptable name for a human of my age and generation,” he said in an almost bored tone.  He fished into his pockets, pulled out a wallet and stared down at the ID card.  “Andrew.  That will suffice, won’t it?”

             
“Is that kid at risk of dying because of you?” Ben asked.

             
Andrew gave a shrug and shoved the wallet back into his pocket.  “As far as I know, he’s healthy and stable.  I’ve sent his consciousness into a dream state.  He likes consciousness-altering substances, so the dream-state was welcomed.  Others are not so receptive to my methods of borrowing their bodies and they fight me.”

             
Ben shook his head.  “This is insane.”

             
“You say that a lot,” Andrew commented.  He started walking, leaving Ben to break into a short jog in order to catch up.  “Insanity or no, you’ve been presented with information, with facts and evidence.  Even me, who obviously couldn’t be a stranger with the information I possess, you still think there’s some kind of trick.”

             
Ben clenched his jaw and crossed his arms.  “What do you expect?”

             
“I’m not entirely sure,” Andrew confessed.  “You humans have always confused me.  Your ability to accept the most irrational series of information extends beyond reason, yet you reject perfectly acceptable, tangible facts and claim they are sent as a test of your faith.”  He shook his head and sighed.  “I stopped trying to figure you out long ago.”

             
“Lucky you,” Ben muttered.  He picked up his pace and before long, they were standing at the entrance to the tall, looming hotel.  “Any chance you can sense where Stella is?”

             
Andrew looked at Ben as though Ben had asked if the sky was blue.  Without answering, Andrew reached across Ben and pressed the button on the elevator wall, sending them hurtling up to the eighth floor.  The doors opened with a soft ping sound, and the pair of them stepped into the ugly red hotel carpet.

             
“Which way?” Ben asked, resigning himself to following Andrew’s direction, as he had no idea which way to go, and no idea how he was going to handle the situation once he got there.

             
Andrew paused near the railing of the low wall that looked down into the atrium in the hotel lobby.  Stretching far above them stood the high glass ceilings, the filtered, soft light illuminating Andrew’s face in an almost ethereal way.  It was in this moment that Ben could see behind the human eyes of the skateboarding kid.

             
“She’s not alone,” Andrew said quietly.  “She’s with someone, and he’s old.” 

             
“Great,” Ben said with a groan.

             
“You can’t kill him,” Andrew pointed out.  “Shooting the human host would cause too many complications.”

             
“No kidding,” Ben snapped at him sarcastically.  “We should probably just go.”

             
“Go where?” Andrew pressed.  “I don’t think it’s going to be as simple as blowing up a bunch of farm buildings this time around.  We need to find those two Jesus clowns before Nike can make them talk.”

             
“What does she want from them anyway?” Ben asked.  “I thought Mark was pretty clear that Judas couldn’t heal you guys.”

             
“I’m fairly certain she doesn’t need healing,” Andrew said, and then started off down the hall.

             
Ben caught up with him in a few strides, and together they navigated the twisting hotel hallways.  Keeping his eye on the subtle brown signs tacked up on the wall, they made their way to the back end of the building and stopped in front of door eight-seven-seven.

             
“Well go on,” Andrew said nodding.  “Do whatever it is you do.”

             
Ben looked at him, his face pained.  “Do what, exactly?  Like you said, I can’t go in there and shoot anyone, and I’m not exactly interested in having my balls squeezed by some disgruntled, displaced Greek god.”

             
Andrew snorted a laugh and shook his head.  “Why not try knocking on the door and see if she answers.”

             
Ben’s cheeks pinked and he cleared his throat.  “Yeah, okay.”

             
Andrew stood back against the wall as Ben approached the door, lifted his fist and rapped three times.  He reached into his coat, put his hand on his gun and waited.  Several moments passed before he looked back at Andrew with a pained expression.  “Now what?”

             
Andrew shrugged.  “You’re the detective…
detect
something.  Can you hear anything?”

             
“Can’t
you
, big bad god?” Ben retorted childishly, feeling thoroughly put-out, but he pressed his ear to the door anyway.  After a moment, he could hear something.  Voices, hushed but speaking rapidly.  From the tone, Ben could tell they were fighting, but he couldn’t make out much of what they were saying.  He pressed his ear harder to the wood, but it didn’t help.

             
After several frustrating moments, Ben pulled away and gave a shrug.  “Look, I can’t force her to come to the door, and if I try and kick it down, assuming I actually could, I’d be in severe trouble.  I’m not on duty, I don’t have a warrant, she hasn’t done anything technically wrong, and I’m sure whoever is in there with her won’t be pleased to see me.”

             
“Well that’s true,” Andrew said.  “The person in there won’t be pleased to see you.”

             
Ben’s face got hot and he suddenly remembered that the kid he was with was the person who had told him that his sister was still alive.  “Is it Abby?” he asked, his voice growing tight.

             
Andrew shook his head.  “No.  Wherever your sister is, she’s in hiding.  I may know a lot, but I’m not omniscient, and if Nike doesn’t want to be found, she won’t be found.  Not by one of us, anyway.”

             
Ben wanted to ask more, to demand how Andrew knew that his sister lived through the blast.  He wanted to know how she had survived such an explosion, and if she was going to be okay.  Now, however, wasn’t the time.  Ben heard stomping footsteps, and panicked, he grabbed Andrew by the front of his hoodie and yanked him around the corner.  They stood together, huddled in front of the ice machine as Stella’s hotel door swung open with a bang.

             
“This isn’t over.  This isn’t a joke, either.  I don’t know what you think you’re trying to accomplish, but this was not our deal.”

             
With that, the voice went silent and Ben could hear the light sounds of footsteps padding across the thin carpet.  After a moment, Ben chanced a look, and saw the hallway empty.  With a sigh, the pair moved away from the ice machine and went back to Stella’s door.

             
Ben looked over at Andrew who gave him a shrug, and nodded for him to knock again.  Ben complied, this time expecting an answer.  He got one after a moment, but he was surprised to see Stella looking completely disheveled, hair a mess, and face stained with tears.

             
Her dark eyes widened when she saw it was Ben, and she quickly cleared her throat, swiping at her cheeks with the back of her hand.  “Ben,” she said, her voice hoarse, “what are you doing here?”

             
Ben felt a pang of sympathy and guilt in the pit of his stomach, and was torn between wanting to hold her and wanting to take her by the shoulders and demand to know what was going on.  He took the middle approach, took a step back, and shoved his hands into his pockets.  “Stella, we need to talk.”

             
She frowned with confusion, and opened the door wider.  As she stepped into the doorway, she noticed Andrew standing against the wall, looking bored, his arms crossed over his chest.  She frowned up at Ben and asked, “Who is that?”

             
“Andrew,” Ben said absently, still taking in her disheveled appearance.  She was wearing a thin, cream colored blouse, but two of the buttons in the middle were missing, and the shirt seam was torn.  She’d clearly been in a fight, though she didn’t appear to have suffered any physical damage, but the whole situation was very suspicious.

             
“We’ve met,” Andrew said.

             
That statement shocked Ben out of his examination of his would-be girlfriend, and he looked over to his companion.  “You have?”

             
“Last year,” Andrew said.  “I was in an old man at the time.”

             
Stella stared at him with wide eyes, and then looked up at Ben.  Her face was blank, but her hands had a slight tremble to them as she stepped back and beckoned them inside.  Ben followed, his eyes taking in the room, looking for some indication of what happened.

             
There were two beds, one slept in, the other still pristine.  A small table sat at the far room, one chair near the wall, the other dragged to the other side of the room, positioned in front of the full-body mirror.  Stella’s suitcase was the only telling item in the room, lying on its side with the contents tipped over, her clothes spread across the floor.

             
Both men carefully avoided her garments as they stepped in, Andrew flopping down on the unmade bed, and Ben leaning against the night table between them.  Stella shut and bolted the door, and when everything was secure, she turned to them.

             
“You can’t be here.”

             
“Who was that man?” Ben demanded.  “What the hell is going on?”

             
“It’s a personal matter,” Stella said in a quiet, clipped tone.  She walked across her stuff, paying no mind to her clothes, and sat down in the chair by the table.  She dropped her face into her hands and gave a groan.  “I swear, it has nothing to do with you.”

             
Ben didn’t believe her.  He crossed the room and leaned across the table, using his hand to prod her head back up.  “Why didn’t you tell me about Mark and Judas?”

             
Stella frowned.  “What are you talking about?  I told you everything I knew.  If Mark gave you new information, I swear he didn’t share it with me.”

             
Ben stared at her and realized she was being absolutely truthful.  He glanced over at Andrew who was staring at him with a slight smirk.

             
“She doesn’t know,” Andrew said with a shrug.

             
Ben looked back at Stella who looked even more confused.  “You really don’t remember?”

             
“Remember what?” she pressed.  She glared over at Andrew who was playing with his wallet, flinging cards across the room at the wall.  “What the hell is going on, and why is
he
with you?”  She said the word ‘he’ with such disdain that Ben knew there was no friendly blood between them.  He was curious how and why Stella and Andrew knew each other, however now was not the time to find that story out.

             
Sighing, Ben grabbed the chair by the mirror and dragged it back to the table.  He needed to sit for this.  The entire situation was quickly becoming maddening, and he knew things were about to get even more complicated.  Mark had been right, they had all been right, and Ben wasn’t sure he was going to be able to accept that truth.  Stella was one of them.  Something possessed her when he wasn’t around, and that thought terrified Ben beyond words.

             
“Mark’s apartment blew up,” Ben finally said, doing his best to meet her eyes.

             
Stella’s eyebrows raised with shock.  “
What
?”

             
Ben shrugged.  “His apartment blew up.  As in went ka-boom.  The entire side of the fifteenth floor was blown out when I got there.  They’d cleared the building, and there weren’t any reported injuries.”

             
“So he’s okay?” Stella asked, her voice quiet.

             
“He’s missing,” Ben said.  “He’s not answering any calls, and as far as the police reports go, no one was home during the blast.”

             
Stella let out a short breath.  “What does that mean?”

             
Ben put his hands on the table slowly, clasping them together.  He felt, suddenly, like he was in the interrogation room with a suspect.  Shaking his head, he said in a very quiet voice, “I was hoping you could tell me.”

             
“What do you mean?” Stella asked.  She was picking up on something now, and her eyes became harder and more narrow.  “What exactly am I supposed to know that you don’t?”