Authors: V J Chambers
Trembling (19 page)
* * *
Christ is King Catholic Church was boarded up. There
was a big sign on the front of the church which said, "Reopening in
April." Hmm. I guessed that the big shoot-out between us and the Sons
really had destroyed the sanctuary. I felt kind of guilty for a minute. I hoped
that Father Gerald didn't blame us for the destruction of his church.
The lights were on in the rectory, where he lived, so I supposed I would find
out in a few minutes anyway. I dragged Lilith with me, and together we knocked
on his door.
There was no answer at first, so I knocked again.
After the second knock, the door opened. Father Gerald peered out at us.
"Hi Father Gerald," I said meekly.
"Azazel Jones?" he said in recognition. "What happened to you?"
"Happened to me?"
"Your head is bleeding."
"Is it?" I gingerly touched my head and looked at my fingers. Yep.
Red. I shrugged. "I was in a car wreck. I was wondering if we could use
your phone?"
"Come in," said Father Gerald. "Come in, come in."
Lilith and I stepped inside the rectory. It was sparse and functional. White
walls. No decoration except for a crucifix on one wall.
"Your friend?" he asked.
"This is Lilith," I said.
He raised an eyebrow. "Lilith and Azazel?" He shook his head and crossed
himself, mumbling something about never thinking he'd see the day he was
opening his door to those two. He started out of the room we were in, which was
the kitchen, heading back the hall. "I'll get something for your
head," he said.
"It's okay, really," I said. "I just need to call Hallam. You
have a number for him, don't you?"
Father Gerald stopped. "Well, yes. I was just about to call him myself,
actually. Some strange events have recently unfolded. I thought he'd want to
know."
"Strange events?" I said.
"With the Sons of the Rising Sun," he explained. "It's a little
convoluted."
I waved it away. "The Sons aren't actually a problem for me this time. Can
I just call Hallam, please?"
"Certainly," he said, pointing at the phone. He gave me the number.
As I dialed, he said, "I'm going to go get some bandages. If my guest
wanders out here, don't be alarmed."
Guest? Priests had guests?
Whatever. The phone was ringing on Hallam's end. Lilith stood behind me,
looking frightened. If I still liked her, I would have grabbed her hand or done
something reassuring. But I didn't like her. Not at all. She felt scared? Good.
For a few terrible seconds, I was convinced that Hallam's phone was going to go
to voicemail, but at the last second, he picked up.
"Father Gerald, what is going on?" he said. "Did you release the
email without telling me? Why does Edgar Weem think that I'm playing games with
him?"
"Edgar Weem?" I said. "You're in communication with Edgar
Weem?"
"Who is this?"
"It's Azazel. And why the hell are you talking to Weem?"
"Azazel, Jesus, where are you?"
"I'm in
captured by Satanists. Now you answer my question."
"Oh, Christ, Azazel, it's complicated. Look, I'm actually on my way to
where you are, and I'll fill you in when I arrive. I don't want to talk about
it on the phone."
"Hallam, are you still working for the Sons?" I was floored. Shocked.
Appalled. After all this time, after I'd trusted Hallam as much as I did, was
he betraying us?
"No, of course not. Please, just stay with Father Gerald. When I get
there, I'll explain everything."
Behind me, Lilith screamed.
I whirled.
A man had just walked into the kitchen. He was bruised and beaten, his face
swelling in odd places. Bandages decorated every part of his exposed skin.
"Azazel," he said, his damaged mouth curving into a sly smile.
I dropped the phone. "Sutherland," I breathed.
He took a step toward me.
I grabbed Lilith's hand. "Let's get out of here," I said to her.
We tore out of the kitchen, out of the rectory, back into the car. As I drove
away, I glanced in the rearview mirror to see that Sutherland had followed us
outside. He was standing outside the church, in front of the re-opening sign,
grinning like a jackal.
* * *
"How did he get there?" Lilith was asking.
She was sitting next to me in the passenger seat. We were driving aimlessly in
the dark. Through the streets of
into the surrounding country roads. Back into
I didn't know where we were going. I didn't know what we were doing.
"I don't know," I said. "I thought he was dead."
Sutherland was alive. Jason hadn't killed him. Hallam had been wrong when he'd
asked Jason where Sutherland's body was. It looked like Jason had beat him up
very, very badly, but he hadn't killed him. As frightening as it had been to
see Sutherland, the news made a part of me sing. Jason hadn't done that. He
wasn't the killer that Noah and Gordon had claimed he was.
Of course, I'd killed . . . I shuddered again.
"He's not dead," Lilith said.
"Maybe . . ." I said, turning it over in my head, " . . . maybe
he was following us. Following me. Maybe he followed us into the rectory."
"No," said Lilith. "I saw him come into the room. He didn't come
through the front door. He came from the hallway."
"He was waiting for us? He knew we'd go there?"
"He sounded surprised to see you. Pleasantly surprised, but
surprised."
She was right. He did.
I didn't like this one bit. First there was this car we were driving. This car
that had come out of nowhere. Then there was Sutherland appearing also out of
nowhere. So many unanswered questions. "There are too many things I just
don't understand," I said. "How did Noah and Gordon get this car?"
"Gordon called your grandmother," said Lilith.
"Grandma Hoyt?" I said. "Why?" I couldn't even finish the
thought, it was too preposterous. But I guessed it made sense. Grandma Hoyt had
money. She could get them a car fast. "Why was she helping them?"
"I don't know," said Lilith.
More unanswered questions. More things that didn't add up. My mind was reeling.
Chance had said that Gordon and Noah had gone to see Grandma Hoyt, and then
she'd consented to pack Chance off to
what they were planning to do? Had she decided to send Chance away so that it
would be safe for him? But why was she helping the Satanists out? My
grandmother hated the Satanists. She'd disowned my parents because of their
Satanist ties.
But none of this was important right now, because . . . Because . . .
"We have to find Jason," I said.
We were driving through the streets of
Impulsively, I turned onto Spring Street. Drove the car past Michaela Weem's
house. I stared at it. And suddenly, it came to me. Last week.
Jude was driving Jason and me home. We were talking about the kidnapping of the
Lindbergh baby. And Jason had said . . .
"I always thought," said
Jason, "that would be a good way to pull off a kidnapping."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"I mean, kidnap someone in their
own house," said Jason. "Tie them up and knock them out, and keep
them in their own attic."
I yanked the wheel to the right and turned into Michaela Weem's driveway.
Of course, of course, of course. This was the place close enough to cut off
Michaela's finger and leave it downstairs, still warm and wet with her blood.
This was the place that Jason could leave notes. It was a safe place. Not a
hotel. Not an abandoned house. And it was the last place anyone would think to
look for him, because it was too obvious. Jesus.
"What are you doing?" asked Lilith.
"I know where Jason is," I said.
"You do?"
Quickly, I explained to her what I thought, as I parked the car and turned off
the ignition.
"He's been keeping her here in her own house?" Lilith was
incredulous.
"Brilliant, isn't it?" I said.
She shook her head. "Yeah," she admitted.
Lilith sighed. Then
—
she
moved. She pulled me close against her body, her forearm going around my neck,
making it tough for me to breathe.
"Lilith!" I protested.
Then I felt it. The cold, sharp point of a small knife at my neck.
"Lilith?" I said.
"You really are way too trusting,
Zaza
," said Lilith, her voice
ugly.
Chapter Fourteen
Text message to Hallam Wakefield, 11:12 P.M.:
We've got a trace on the car, thanks to Hoyt. We should know where they are in
a matter of minutes. Coordinates to follow.
"But-but
—
"
I sputtered. "They tied you up. And you kept trying to make Jason suspect
Jude."
"Well, I did want to bang Jason. I'm not gonna lie about that. I figured
any path in a storm, right?"
"You're mixing your metaphors," I said.
"AP English rears its ugly head," she mocked me. "As for the
tying up part, I was supposed to keep an eye on you that way. Monitor what you
were feeling. They thought you'd trust me."
"I didn't trust you," I said.
"Which is why you untied me."
"Fuck you," I growled.
"Tisk, tisk. It's not a good idea to be rude to the girl who has a knife
to your throat."
Ugh. She was right. I
was
stupid.
I was way too trusting.
"Noah and Gordon had no vision," Lilith said. "They thought they
could convince you to kill Jason. I know better. You're never going to think
it's the right thing to do."
"It's not the right thing to do," I said.
"Like I said, you're never going to think that," said Lilith.
"When Jason is dead, Michaela is going to see just how special I am. I'll
make her eat those words. Someone will love me."
"I don't get it," I said. "You want Jason dead too? You just
said you wanted to bang him."
Lilith chuckled. "Boys aren't good for much other than sex, Zaza. They're
all expendable, really."
"But you think Jason is evil incarnate, like they do?"
Lilith didn't answer for a few seconds. "Stop talking," she said.
"I'm calling the shots here. I've got a knife at your throat. I could kill
you at any second. You shut up, okay?"
I didn't say anything, but I could tell I'd gotten to her.
"Look," she said, "I figure it doesn't really matter how it goes
down, as long as you kill Jason. So, we'll go inside. We'll find Jason. He'll
do whatever I say as long as I've got a knife to your throat, right? Even take
a gun, put it in your hand, hold it to his own head, and make you pull the
damned trigger. He'll do that. Won't he?"
She was right. He would. He'd die for me. I didn't like Lilith's plan at all.
For someone who didn't do very smart things very often, she'd put together a
pretty good plan. I had to keep pushing. She could threaten to shut me up all
she wanted, but if she killed me now, then I couldn't kill Jason. And if things
were really about to go down the way she'd just explained, I far preferred to
die for Jason than for him to die for me. Not when there was some way I could
stop it.
"You sure you want Jason dead?" I asked. "I was listening when
you flashed Jason, you know. It got quiet for a long time." This was
killing me, but it was more important that Jason lived than anything. Than
anything. "And when I walked into the room, I could swear he looked
guilty. How do you know that he doesn't want to be with you anyway? Maybe
that's how you could show Michaela she was wrong."
Lilith pushed the point of the knife a little deeper into my neck. "You
think you're so smart, don't you?" she hissed at me. "You think you
can play mind games with me, but I'm not as dumb as you think I am."
"I'm not saying your dumb," I said. "I'm just not sure what
you're motivation here is. Why are you still working for the Satanists? I mean,
what have they ever done for you?"
The knife stabbed at my neck. It broke the skin. I let out at little yelp.
"I said shut up, Zaza," said Lilith, "and I meant it."
Suddenly, this little exercise in trying to manipulate Lilith seemed really,
really difficult. I wanted to see Jason. I wanted this nightmare over.
But I didn't want to hurt Lilith. I'd done enough damage for one evening. I
knew that. I also knew that there were things I'd done in the past hour that
would haunt me for the rest of my life. I didn't want to add to that. I
remembered the way Jason had sobbed in my arms after killing the members of the
Sons. I knew the way Jason's eyes always looked. There were depths in them.
Depths of pain and guilt and confusion. I didn't want to go there myself. But I
was frustrated, and I couldn't help but want to do things the easy way.
As I hesitated in those few moments, I saw it all so very clearly. This way was
seductive. It was simple. It was quick. It made the immediate problems go away.
There were obstacles in the way of my goal. I needed to eliminate them. I saw
that. I saw that I was starting down a path of simplicity. A path of casual
violence. And I also knew that if I took that path, it would be harder to
resist it in the future. I saw all of that.
And I made my choice. Because, in the end, no matter what anyone said about
fate or Shiva or the power of Azazel, it was all about my choices. In the end,
I wouldn't be able to blame ancient religions for my life. I'd have to take
responsibility for it.
I moved as quick as Lilith had, and it meant that her knife took a pretty
nice-sized chunk out of my neck. The pain was sharp, and I felt blood begin to
trickle from the wound. But in one movement, I got the gun out of my pants with
one hand, slapped the barrel against Lilith's temple, wrenched the knife away
from her with my other hand, and twisted so that I could see her face.
I smiled at her. "Lilith, if you're so smart, why didn't you take my
gun?"
"I-I
—
" Lilith was
startled.
I didn't let her finish. I just pulled the trigger.
Her blood got on my face.
I looked at her for a while after it was done. The bullet didn't cause too much
destruction going in. Sure there was a big bloody hole. But it was the exit
wound that was so bad. Blood spattered all over the interior of the car, an
exploded firework of red fluid and brain matter. The other side of Lilith's
head caved in. It didn't really look like a skull anymore. Instead it was a
broken Easter egg. A shattered Christmas ornament.
I don't know why I looked as long as I did. I think I just needed to see what
I'd done. To understand that I'd killed her. I needed to look at it, look at
the utter horror of it, the gore of it, the incomprehensible, repulsive reality
of it, and make sure that I understood that I was responsible for it. Because
I'd decided that my life and that Jason's life were more important than hers,
I'd taken her life. I needed to recognize that, force myself to face it and
acknowledge it.
I wasn't telling myself that it was the right thing to do. I wasn't trying to
excuse it. I was just facing it. Taking responsibility for it.
As I got out of the car, my heart clanged against my rib cage. My legs
trembled. I stood outside the car and closed the door behind me, shutting away
the dreadfulness of the remains of Lilith.
Gripping the gun tightly, I started forward. Halting steps carried me over the
threshold of Michaela Weem's house and inside.
