Welsh Road (The Depravity Chronicles) (19 page)

He wondered if
God was in the mood to answer him.

1

Nina smiled as
she fed on Sam King’s fear. She could feel her strength building, but she was
not yet at the point where she could begin the ritual.

“You should have
stayed at the crime scene,” Commissioner Jackson said to Sam as he walked up to
him and held the gun to his temple. He cocked his weapon and prepared to blow
Sam’s head off.

“Not quite yet,
Commissioner,” Nina said.

“Of course, my
Lady,” Jackson responded.

“Your thoughts
deceive you,” Nina said, scowling. Jackson didn’t realize that she was speaking
to him. Nina focused on the commissioner’s jumbled thoughts, honing in on the
parts of his brain that controlled motor functions.

“What the fuck?”
Jackson groaned as his arm began to move against his will. “How are you doing
this?” He began to slowly move his gun away from Sam’s head. With Jackson’s
hand shaking so badly, Sam was shocked that he didn’t accidentally shoot him.

“Doing what?”
Nina asked in an innocent voice, pointing to herself. “I am not doing anything…yet.”

Jackson’s finger
moved away from the trigger, but he was fighting against Nina’s control every
step of the way. His breathing became labored as blood dripped from his ears.

“I expect my
underlings to obey my every whim,” Nina said plainly. “The consequences for
defying me are quite severe.”

“Master, I have
not defied you,” Jackson pleaded. Finally, he gave in and dropped his gun to
the ground. Taking a risk, Sam reached into his jacket to pull out his Glock.
To his surprise, he met no resistance from the redhead. He pointed the gun at
Jackson and pulled the trigger.

Click
.

Sam tried again.

Click
.

Nina walked up
to Sam. He turned his gun on her and attempted to shoot her.

Click
.

“You won’t have
much luck without these,” Nina said. Sam watched in horror as she opened her
hand and revealed the bullets to his gun. She cackled loudly as she allowed the
bullets to slip through her fingers and fall to the ground. Against his better
judgment, Sam dropped to his knees and grabbed Jackson’s gun. He turned the gun
on Nina and tried to fire.

POW!

POW!

Sam was an
excellent marksman. At two feet away, he
knew
she didn’t stand a chance.
Yet after two shots, she was unharmed.

POW!

POW!

Still, nothing
happened. As he tried to pull the trigger again, he heard something crack. Pain
shot through his trigger finger, causing him to drop the gun. Jackson picked it
up and shoved the barrel into Sam’s mouth. He pulled the trigger.

Click.

“Humans and
their guns,” Nina said, shaking her head. “Give me the gun, Commissioner. Did I
not
just tell you to hold your fire?”

Jackson
begrudgingly gave Nina the weapon. She pointed it at Jackson’s head.

“I wonder what
might happen if
I
pull this trigger,” she said, grinning. “Do you think
it might work for me?”

“I have no doubt
of it, Ma’am,” Jackson responded.

“Why don’t we
find out?” Sam said, surprising both Jackson and Nina.

“There may be
hope for you yet,” Nina said appreciatively. “But alas, I have need for the
commissioner. Perhaps when I am done with him, you can have your vengeance.”
She held the gun in her hand, studying it as if she had never seen one before
today. Closing her eyes, Nina chanted under her breath as the two men nervously
watched her. The gun began to melt in her hand, producing a foul aroma. She let
it drop to the ground.

“I have always
hated guns,” Nina said. “Death comes too quickly and it dampens the joy of
killing your prey.”

“Jesus!” Sam
yelled as the gun he kept by his ankle began to burn his skin. He grabbed it as
quickly as he could, pulling it out of its holster and throwing it across the
yard. The same thing happened to Jackson, who happened to have two more guns
hidden under his clothes.

“Now that we’ve
rid ourselves of these unnecessary burdens, shall we go inside and sit for a
spell?” Nina laughed at the double meaning, but was disappointed when her two
guests did not laugh with her. “Tough crowd,” she said with a frown. She turned
and climbed the stairs to the porch, not even glancing back to see if they were
joining her.

“It’s best to do
what she says,” Jackson whispered to Sam. It was as if he thought they were
somehow in this together.

“You can go
straight to Hell,” Sam hissed through his teeth, his jaw clenched.

“My boy, we are
already there,” Jackson said as he helped Sam to his feet. Sam pushed Jackson’s
hand away from under his arm and spat in his face. Jackson grimaced and punched
Sam in the stomach. “I’m going to kill you, mother…”

“You will do no
such thing, slave,” Nina interrupted, her voice angry and bitter. “You
will
learn
your place, or you will die.”

Once they were
inside the farmhouse, Sam nearly wretched from the smell of death and decay.

Jackson whistled
when he inhaled a deep breath. “You could use a cleaning service for Christ
sake because this house reeks to high heaven.”

“Christ and heaven
in the same breath,” Nina said. “I think not.” She watched as Sam and Jackson
both scoured the room, both of them pausing at the altar before looking past
it.

Suddenly,
Jackson screamed at the top of his lungs. “Nooo!” He ran across the room to one
of the corpses that was lying on a dirty cot. He continued to scream curses and
other words, but Sam couldn’t make out what he was saying. Jackson jumped onto
the cot, collapsing the frame and rolling over the body. After he collected
himself as well as the corpse, Jackson picked up the body and held it in his
arms. He began to rock back and forth slowly, tears streaming down his face.

Sam was totally
lost. He looked at Nina, who was taking great pleasure in what she was seeing.
Sam walked over to Jackson. He didn’t want to offer consolation, but it was
difficult for Sam to ignore the depth of pain that Jackson was feeling. It
didn’t take Sam long to put the pieces of the puzzle together. He realized who
the corpse must be.

“William
Jackson,” Nina said as she walked over to join them. “I had every intention of
allowing him to join my ranks, but it turns out that he is a whining pansy.”

“You will pay
for this, you evil bitch,” Jackson promised between sobs. “Why? Why would you
do this to me? After everything I’ve done for you? I killed for you. Hung those
bodies, set up the crime scenes perfectly…”

Sam couldn’t
help but feel some level of sympathy for this man. Regardless of what he had
done, his son should not have been forced to pay the price for his father’s
sins.

“Do not make the
assumption, Mr. King, that William was an innocent child,” Nina said, obviously
reading Sam’s thoughts.

“He didn’t
deserve this!” Jackson cried, his mind racing.

“Do not waste
your thoughts on how to kill me, Commissioner,” Nina said. “Men much more
powerful and skilled than you have tried. What makes you think that you can do
what they could not?”

“Because I am a
father avenging his son!” Jackson said, laying William’s head on a pillow and
turning to face Nina. “A father’s love is insurmountable.”

Nina laughed,
almost uncontrollably. Then she turned and walked toward the altar. Sam thought
her laugh sounded like a flute, light and airy. He also wondered why she would
turn her back on a grieving, violent father. Jackson leapt from the bed in an
attempt to land on Nina’s back. Just before hitting his target, Nina raised her
hand in the air. Jackson slammed into some invisible wall and slid down onto
the floor. He put his face in his hands and wept bitterly.

“If it pleases
you, I could resurrect him,” Nina said as she knelt down beside Jackson.

“Seriously?” the
commissioner said, his face lighting up with hope. “You would do that for me?”

“I might
consider it, if you make it worth my while.” Nina said as she studied her fingernails.
“I need a mani and a pedi.” Sam was blown away by Nina’s complete disregard for
human life. Sure, he had seen this kind of inhumanity several times before, but
it’s something you never really get used to.

“I will do
anything – anything at all,” Jackson said.

“There is a
delicate balance that must be maintained,” Nina said. “If I were to bring him
back to life, then someone else must die. A life for a life, so to speak.”

“Then kill him!”
Jackson pleaded, pointing at Sam as he said it.

“Kill Sam?” Nina
asked. She laughed and clapped her hands together in pure delight. “I think
not. That’s not how it works, my dear.”

“Then kill my
son’s mother,” Jackson offered. “Or my daughter, take her.”

“Such a noble
man, is he not?” Nina asked Sam. “Commissioner,
you
do not get to choose
whose life I take.”

“Why not offer
your own life?” Sam suggested. “I would think that’s what most fathers would do
in this situation.”

“Oh, but he is
not ‘most fathers,’” Nina said. “He is a narcissistic man, greedy for power and
immortality. It would be out of character for him to sacrifice himself.” She
turned to the commissioner. “Tell me something, Mr. Jackson. If the only option
for your son’s resurgence is to offer your own life for his, would you do it?”

Silence.

Sam couldn’t
believe that Jackson had to actually take time to think about his answer. If
indeed the commissioner agreed, Sam almost wanted to ask the woman if he could be
the one to kill him. As he thought this, Nina looked at him with a brilliant smile.

“The plot
thickens!” Nina said. “I appreciate your passion, Mr. King. But it is
unnecessary.”

“Then you’ll do
it?” Jackson asked. He got down on his knees and begged her.

“Rise, my
child,” Nina said. “And behold.” She walked over to William’s body, grabbed his
feet, and dragged him haphazardly across the floor.

“Be careful!”
Jackson shouted.

“You are
priceless,” Nina said. “Just delightful.” She pulled William to the front of
the altar and dropped his feet to the floor. She grabbed one of the many bowls
that were sitting on a large table, putting it on the floor between William and
his father.

“Thank you, my
Queen,” Jackson said.

“Now I’m your
queen?” Nina shook her head in disgust. “Give me your hand.”

“What are you
going to do with it?” Jackson asked.

“Stop asking
questions and be still.” Nina didn’t waste any time. She grabbed his hand and,
with her long black fingernail, sliced open his wrist. Blood poured from the
wound and into the bowl. “Blood for blood. Now, give me your son’s hand.”

“With pleasure,”
Jackson said. Nina sliced William’s wrist, and although the blood did not flow
as freely, she still managed to squeeze some into the bowl. Nina began to
mumble under her breath, pausing several times to wave her hands in the air. It
looked to Sam like she was making a figure eight. Nina then pricked her own forefinger
and allowed one drop to fall into the bowl. Immediately, the blood in the bowl
began to boil.

“Open the boy’s
mouth,” Nina said. Jackson did as he was told. She poured the blood into William’s
mouth, all the while chanting. Suddenly, the wood and vines that snaked around
the marble columns on the altar began to glow brightly. First it burned yellow,
then green, then red. Finally, it flickered between white and black. Sam
wondered how the color black could be bright and illuminating. But there it
was, plain as day in front of him. When Nina had finished chanting, she kissed
the boy on the forehead, then both cheeks, and finally his lips.

“Is it done?”
Jackson asked.

“It is finished.”

“What now?” Sam
asked, genuinely intrigued – and horrified – by what would happen next.

“The fun
begins,” Nina said, laughing heartily and throwing her head back.

Sam joined them
at the altar, a morbid curiosity pulling him forward. Within seconds, William’s
fingers and toes began to wiggle. When he opened his eyes, Sam fumbled backward
and fell on his backside. He butt-crawled until his back was up against a wall.
 

William’s eyes
were black as coal.

“William?”
Jackson said softly. “Son?”

“Hello, Father,”
William said.

“Son?” Jackson repeated,
his voice wavering.

Sam wasn’t sure
what William’s voice had sounded like before he died. But he was absolutely
positive that it hadn’t sounded like that. When William spoke, it sounded like
there were three voices instead of one.

“You have
committed many sins, Father,” William’s voices said.