Demonic Designs (To Absolve the Fallen) (41 page)

When they arrived, the police would find five dead humans and two piles of ash.

***

Elizabeth hadn’t gotten much sleep last night.
 
As a result, she was still a little groggy, but she did notice that the cafeteria was teeming with security personnel when she walked in for breakfast.
 
She saw Higgins giving directions at a center table and decided to find out what was going on.
 
She walked closer, and she heard a word that made her skin crawl: breach.

Higgins saw her approaching, and he dismissed the guards with a wave of his hand.
 
“Ms. O’Dell,” he greeted with a salute.

“Really, Higgins,” she replied.
 
“What’s the matter?”

He dropped his hand but remained as stiff as a board.
 
“Two of our guards are dead.”

Elizabeth’s face flushed, “What?”

“One was...” Higgins hesitated.
 
“One was beheaded; the other was wrapped in the razor wire.
 
His flesh was shredded.”

“Oh my God,” Elizabeth replied.

“That isn’t all,” Higgins added.

“Why wasn’t I alerted?” Elizabeth interrupted.

“Ma’am, it was my understanding that you would prefer that the compound be locked down and security sweeping the area before anything else be done.
 
With all due respect, I only got the information minutes ago, myself, and I
had
planned to alert you immediately.”

“You’re right, Higgins,” she conceded.
 
“Please continue.”

He opened his mouth but shut it as soon as he spied something over Elizabeth’s shoulder.
 
She turned around and saw that Lao Shi had entered the cafeteria and was approaching them.

She turned back to Higgins and said, “Don’t worry.
 
Anything you say to me can be said to him.
 
Well, I suppose
almost
anything.”

Higgins nodded.
 
“The worst is that we have someone I have yet to identify.
 
Parts of him are scattered around where we found the bodies of the guards.
 
I don’t know what to make of it.”

“It is a message,” Lao Shi announced.

“From whom?” Elizabeth asked, beating Higgins to the punch.

“The enemy,” he replied shortly.

“But we should have been able to sense someone this close,” Elizabeth replied.

“Wait a minute,” Higgins demanded.
 
“Who is the enemy?”

Elizabeth sighed and looked Higgins in the eyes for a moment.
 
“Higgins, you serve to protect us against a very powerful supernatural force.
 
I don’t expect you to believe what I’m about to tell you, but you should know that there are beings out there who want very much to disrupt what Jeremiah is doing.”

“Demons,” Higgins responded, apprehensively.

“Yes,” Elizabeth breathed, “demons.”

Higgins looked at his feet.
 
“I’m not very religious, but after Jeremiah told me those things in the driveway that night, I started doing some research.
 
Books and the internet have never really been my forte, but I have found some things.”

Elizabeth looked surprised.
 
“You believe me?”

“I’ve spent more than twenty years doing things the United States government will probably never acknowledge,” he began.
 
“I’ve seen some strange occurrences, but some of the things I’ve seen here, in the last five years, leave me speechless.
 
That man, in the foyer...”

“Metatron,” Elizabeth answered.

“Yes.
 
He’s a demon?”

“Yes,” she said.

“And Jeremiah?”

“Yes,” she affirmed.

“I looked ‘Metatron’ up on the internet.
 
He is the most powerful angel.”

“He was, Higgins,” Lao Shi answered.
 
“Now, it would seem, he is our most powerful enemy.
 
It is he, I believe, who killed your guards and left pieces of a prophet in the yard as a warning.”

Elizabeth looked at him in awe.
 
“Why do you think that?”

“Only the most powerful of prophets are gifted with an ability to hide from our perception of them.
 
Among these are Abigail Martin and, until recently, my master.
 
But, like many skills, this ability to move about without being sensed may be taught—if the aptitude is present.”

“So, how do you know that it wasn’t another demon or a rogue prophet?” Elizabeth asked.

“I do not know; I believe.
 
I saw him in a dream.”

“So,” Higgins reasoned, “you’re a prophet?”

“Yes,” Lao Shi answered, not wanting to philosophize with the man over semantics.

“And you?” Higgins indicated Elizabeth.

“Yes,” Elizabeth affirmed, “but I don’t have dreams like Lao Shi.
 
Matt and Alex are also prophets, as is—as Lao Shi mentioned—Abbie.
 
Matt--”

“Yes,” Higgins said, “his speed.”

“Right,” Elizabeth continued, refraining from showing irritability from being interrupted.
 
“And Alex’s abilities are growing, but it has been said that he has great potential to manipulate human emotions.”

Higgins kind of cocked his head, taking it all in.
 
“And what can you do?”

Elizabeth chuckled.
 
“I’m not sure, but it would seem that I’m sensitive to technology.”

“Jeremiah doesn’t look like what I had always pictured a demon looking like.”

“If it’s any consolation,” Elizabeth replied with a sly grin, “you’ve never seen him pissed off.
 
But I can assure you, Higgins, he is a demon.”

“Back to the subject at hand,” Lao Shi continued, “Metatron’s entire plan has not been revealed to me.
 
However, I do know that his initial phase is a warning to us.”

“But what
is
the warning?” Elizabeth prompted.

“After Jesus Christ was crucified, all of his disciples, save one, were systematically executed—martyred.
 
Now, those who are the most likely to come to Alex’s aid are being murdered to try to warn us that Metatron is very serious about stopping Jeremiah’s work and to keep the others away.
 
The first of these was crucified in his apartment.”

“Right,” Elizabeth agreed, “the boy in Baltimore.”

“Yes—like Christ.
 
Following that, was the hanging of a prophet--”

“Judas,” she gasped.

“Correct.
 
My master was killed in a rock slide after the destruction of his temple.”

Elizabeth looked confused.
 
“A rock slide?
 
Which disciple was killed by a rock slide?”

“Stephen was stoned to death.”

“Oh,” Elizabeth commented.

“An attempt was made on Abigail’s life, and I am sure that we will see this trend continue until the attacks are directed at us.”

“But what is the message?” Higgins asked.

“I believe,” Lao Shi answered, “the message is ‘stop.’”

“I’ll die before that bastard touches any of you,” Higgins swore.

“You are probably right,” Lao Shi verified.

“How did you figure all of this out?” Elizabeth asked.

“I had some help from Marla, but I had suspected as much.”

“And you think he’ll save us for last?”

“Yes,” Lao Shi said.
 
“It would do no good to warn us if he planned to kill us.
 
Remember that Metatron was also a prophet, once.
 
I think a part of him wants us to surrender.”

“Well,” Elizabeth said, “if there have been six attempts—five of which were successful—and the first represented Christ, then seven more prophets will die.
 
Three of whom are me, Matt, and Alex.
 
One is probably you.”

“Six more,” came a correction from behind them as Marla strode into the dining room.
 
“The news reports that Hannah Fox, her mother, and her two sisters were found in the Chesapeake Bay this morning.
 
Jeremiah had sent for Hannah two days ago.
 
She was scheduled to arrive here later this afternoon.”

Lao Shi considered this.
 
“I am not aware of a disciple who was drowned; most were beaten, stabbed, or crucified.
 
Perhaps, Metatron does not wish to be repetitive.”

“But you said one of the disciples wasn’t killed,” Higgins interjected.

“Yes,” Lao Shi agreed.
 
“John.
 
Some historians believe he was exiled to Patmos, where he spent the remainder of his life.
 
There, he would have written Revelations.”

Elizabeth furrowed her eyebrows.
 
“So, how does
that
fit into Metatron’s morbid analogy?”

“I do not know yet,” Lao Shi answered.

***

“Report,” Metatron commanded.
 
His morning had already been very busy, and he was in no mood—nor had he the time—for Patheus’s inadequacies.

“I have done as you wish, Master,” Patheus responded, “but we need to get him away from the other prophets.”

“Not
we
,” Metatron corrected.
 
“
You
.
 
Months ago, I gave you a directive.
 
I am somewhat alarmed that it has not come to fruition.
 
You have demon support from all over the world.
 
You have an army of loyal, terrified mortals.
 
You have the best resources that money can buy.
 
But you have yet to retrieve a boy.
 
I ask so very little.”

“You should have killed Jeremiah when you had the chance,” Patheus responded.
 
Immediately, he realized his mistake.
 
Metatron’s right hand sent Patheus careening into the opposing wall.
 
Patheus’s body left an imprint in the concrete wall, and the demon fell to the ground.

“I did not ask you what I should have done,” Metatron replied as Patheus picked himself up.
 
“It may not have occurred to you,” he continued, “that I have plans that involve him.”

“Lucifer.”

“That’s right,” Metatron said.
 
“He’s out there.
 
I can feel his power growing.
 
I only know of one being that has ever bested him in battle.
 
I will need Jeremiah in the future.
 
We need to take his objective away from him.
 
Then, after his chances for ascension are obliterated, he will blame God and, once again, be mine.”

“Then, why don’t we just kill the boy?
 
It would be easier, more productive.”

“It
would
be easier,” Metatron conceded, “but it would be counterproductive.
 
If Alex died, then Jeremiah would never help us, and we would have another adversary, rather than an ally.
 
Besides, I could use Alex, too.
 
If he is as powerful as our opposition would like us to believe, his potential needs not go to waste.
 
You tell Eva to give you an opportunity.
 
Alex is weak still.
 
His lust will consume him, will make him easier to convert.
 
Then, in a critical moment, he will fall, dragging my confused servant with him.
 
The boy must live and come to our side—at least until I get Jeremiah back.”