The Gateway Through Which They Came (37 page)

BOOK: The Gateway Through Which They Came
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blinding light encases the room. The pain inside my chest retreats and I regain a little strength, enough to push myself forward. Screams and hisses surround me as I shove myself off the altar and reach for Koren. Her fingertips touch mine, grasping for me to take hold. I pull her into me, crouching behind the marble altar. With her in my arms, I protect her from the monstrous sounds swarming around us. A powerful force like that of a tornado barrels into the room, ripping the evil from the atmosphere.

It seems as if it’ll never end. We press against each other tight, all our weight sinking to the floor. The power of the chaos rips the candles from the walls, taking with it every object in its wake. And in those last moments, I fear Koren and I will be taken along with it, sucked into the very thing powerful enough to banish the Dark Priest. When I start to believe this will be our fate, all goes silent.

The storm fades out, slipping into the crevices along the walls and retreating back to wherever it came from. When the last of it is gone, only our heavy breaths can be heard. I refuse to let go, to open my eyes, afraid that when they open, she will be gone. But the shaking body in my arms tells me this isn’t so.

I open my eyes to find her bewildered gaze staring back at me.

“What was that?” she says.

“I wish I knew.”

“You can come out now.” A strange voice beckons from behind the altar.

We look to each other as if silently asking if it’s safe.

Sensing our hesitation, another voice says, “It’s okay, Aiden.”

Now that voice I know. I nod my head to assure her, standing first to offer my hand. Koren pauses for a second before accepting. On our feet, we face the two figures that await us.

Father Martin looks relieved, but it doesn’t take long for confusion to set in. He peers down at my hand holding Koren’s, a blank stare crossing his face.

“What is it?” I ask, looking from Koren and back to him.

“He can’t see her,” the man standing beside him says.

“You can’t?”

I turn to her to be sure she’s there. That she’s not my imagination. She’s there alright. The same Koren I knew before she became a Bleeder. Her appearance is renewed somehow, like the hold Raimi held over her disappeared along with him. If only that meant she was alive again, but she and I both know he never intended to bring her back, or her parents.

“She’s safe, for now,” the man says. His grin softens the roughness of his battle-worn face. With his hand, he wipes away the sweat along his brow, drawing me to the appearance of his grayish-blue eyes. His eyes exactly like mine.

We follow the men up the steps in silence, each of us drained and uneasy about the events of the night. A sense of relief seems to linger in the air, faint and restless.

There’s no way of knowing how many Mortal Gateways were used to resurrect the Order. I can’t be certain that many of us exist. But I do know of Julie. I hope she hasn’t fallen victim to the Dark Priest’s scheme. If Father Martin hasn’t noticed anything strange about her yet, then perhaps she’s safe from this madness. At least for now.

Koren holds my hand, one step ahead of me. No pulse greets me from the base of her wrist. No warmth graces my skin as her fingers entangle themselves with mine. I wish so badly that the lifeless hand in mine was anything but; holding onto her in this moment means everything.

Father Martin’s study is different somehow as we enter. The church walls vibrate with a lightness, as if they too are relieved to be free, released from the energy poisoning it all this time. Each of us takes a second to let it sink in, shuffling tightly into the room as this stranger with gray eyes shuts the secret door with finality, the lock slamming into place.

He gives Father Martin a nod and then glances back at Koren and me, eyeing our embrace. Father Martin shuffles about behind me, opening the door to the chamber.

“We’ll leave you two to speak… alone,” Father Martin says, speaking on behalf of Koren, who doesn’t exactly look too pleased.

He must realize she’s still here. My hand wrapped in her invisible grip makes that obvious enough. Her hand crushes tighter on mine, as if afraid that the moment she walks out that door, she’ll never see me again.

“It’s okay,” I assure her. “I won’t be long.”

Sheepishly, she nods, looking from me to the stranger in front of us. The man smiles, just barely. Koren nods again in Father Martin’s direction, despite knowing he can’t see her. She leaves a slight pressure against my fingers as she squeezes them, before following his lead toward the hall.

With a low squeak of the hinges, the door shuts behind me.

I’m left alone, standing with a man I’ve only seen in pictures. He looks the same but different all at once, the images of his face taken long before I could even speak. Seeing him now ruffles the smallest of memories—memories covered with dust that have faded with time. They’re snippets that flash too quick for me to fully process, but they’re evidence, nonetheless, of a man who held me only a handful of times and spoke simple words I could never understand.

His face softens, though behind it I can still see the strength and power that comes with the truth of his identity. He’s my father, yes. But he’s a Man of Light through and through. Possibly one of the most powerful people I will ever encounter in my life, as far as Light is concerned. There are evils in this world, I know that now. How long will it be before I meet them again? Will he be there when the time comes?

I clear my throat, unsure of what to say first. At one time, I could have thought of a million things to say, but now… nothing.

He runs his fingers through his thick, wavy hair. It’s as if I’m watching myself, a reflection in a mirror, only older. His gray eyes search the room, killing time. I’m almost sure he’ll never break the uncomfortable silence.

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions,” he says.

Nothing follows after, as if that were a sufficient thing to say after all these years.

A dry laugh leaves my throat. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say to me?”

He doesn’t say a word, but stares at me, his eyes holding back emotion.

With a shake of my head, I add, “Well you’re damn right I have a lot of questions! Where the hell have you been? Why didn’t you come back? How could you leave me with this…” My words fail to convey my thoughts. “How could a father leave his son knowing what was out there waiting for him?”

The weight of a thousand bricks settles on my shoulders, from all the minutes and hours since he left me. I always thought I’d be thrilled to see him, to finally understand what he’d done. Why he left me. Left us. All my life I’ve wanted this moment, to see him in the flesh. To hear him and know that he was real. But now that he’s here, an undeniable ache pricks in my chest. Anger and resentment I’d denied all this time.

I believed my mother when she said he was a great man. Someone that, despite what he put her through, she still found perfect in every way. To me, he’s a man who abandoned his child, leaving him to suffer through the curse he’d embedded in his blood. Forcing his son to face alone the confusion, the terror, the unbelievable reality that he is different from everyone else.

Even through all of this, as much as I want to despise him for what he’s done, a part of me has to accept that he’s here now. That at the time I needed him most, he came back.

For me.

“Son.” Hearing him say it, it carries a different feeling than when it comes from Father Martin. My chest throbs, as if the very word is the one I’ve waited to hear all my life. “I never would have left you had I not believed you could get through this. You’re brave, and stronger than you give yourself credit for. Trust in yourself that you don’t need me to guide you. Look at all you’ve done on your own.”

“On my own?” I scoff. “How could I have possibly done this on my own? If not for Father Martin—”

“Father Martin is a Protector. Surely you’ve figured that out.”

A Protector?

“A what?”

He sighs. “Your presence at this church was not by accident. Your mother knew about Father Martin all along. I told her as much before I departed.”

“She knew? How could she…?”

“She doesn’t know what you are. I only told her that Father Martin would watch over her, and you, while I was away, for however long that would be.”

Exasperated, I run my hands through my hair, taking it in. “All this time? He knew you.”

He takes a step forward, but goes no farther. “I would never leave my son without someone to protect him. Father Martin was trained for this. He’s been doing this all his life. How else could he possibly know what to do with a boy who invites the dead into his body?” He says this as if the answer should be obvious.

Sure, I found it strange that a random priest could pluck me from church, and teach me all these things I never imagined anyone knowing anything about. But somehow it seemed fitting that a man of God would know these things. I mean, who else if not a priest? But now I know that Father Martin was waiting for me to make myself known. To come to him when the time was right. Him finding me that night seven years ago, the night of the Christmas Mass, was no accident. He’d been watching out for me all along.

“We have much to discuss,” he says. “I intend to stay until all matters are resolved, and until I know for certain you are safe.”

My head snaps up. “You’re gonna leave again?”

He doesn’t answer right away. I begin to think he never will, until he says, “I have to.”

“Why?”

My father takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, his body as still as can be. “I’m sorry for my absence all these years, Aiden. What you have to understand is that there are things I must accomplish before I come back.”

I step forward, heated with frustration. “You’ve been gone my entire life. And you’re just gonna leave like
that
?”

He rubs his jaw as if unsure what to say next. “It’s not fair to you, I know that.” His gray eyes lock with mine, his hand dropping back to his side. “None of this is fair to you, Aiden, don’t you see? I want more than anything to take you away from all of this.”

“I never asked to be saved,” I tell him, despite the absurd rage lingering inside me.

Maybe I didn’t want to be saved, but I can’t deny the times I longed to be normal.

“Yes,” he says with a nod, “but you never had a choice. You’re my son, and you deserve a choice. One I couldn’t make.”

“So all of this. The Shadows. The Dark Priest.” I look around, my hands in the air as if to signify the world around us. “You’ve been trying to find a way to take away my gift?” It’s true that at a point in my life I would have wanted that, but now, I’m not so sure.

“I knew it was only a matter of time before you’d have to face the consequences of what you are. I was hoping to find the answers before…” His eyes avert, and I can see his regret. Not for having had me, but for not finding the answer in time.

“It’s too late now,” I say. “I’m a Mortal Gateway, and I’ve already seen what that means. Just stay.” It comes out as more of a plea than anything. My father is finally here, in my life. How can I let him go? “Stay with us,” I beg.

My father’s attention has found me again through whatever inner battle he’s having with himself. “If I could, son, I would. But my mission is not yet over. I
will
find a way to save you, before anything else becomes of your gift. It’s my duty to you.”

“Your duty is to be my father,” I say with spite.

“Exactly,” he says.

I look toward the wall, looking everywhere but at him. I refuse to let him see the pain his harsh truth is causing me.

The scuffle of his boots signals him closing in. I can’t look at him now. It hurts too much.

My eyes remain locked on the floor when he says, “It’s time.”

And without another word, I understand. Everything he just told me falls away, if only for a moment, because another person in my life is about to leave. Someone I can’t imagine myself without. The clock has run its course, and I have to find it in me to say goodbye.

It’s time to send Koren where she belongs.

Far away from here. And too far away from me.

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