If only everyone else could see him, Arthur’s problem would be solved. People would believe in the supernatural, and he would be Awhen’s right-hand man. The sacrifice would make it possible, of that he was sure.
The voice was deep and resonant.
My disciple, the time is almost at hand. The angels of life and death are near. The young woman is the key. Find her, and you will know everything. She will bring the blood of an Offworlder.
Arthur wiped a tear away as the vision faded. He knew Awhen would not desert him in his time of need. All those who had scoffed at him would eat their words when he became all-powerful.
He needed information, and the mention of angels from Awhen piqued his interest. One of the private detectives he employed had mentioned angels two nights ago. Gerald thought the detectives a waste of money, but Arthur employed the company to check up on new followers. You could never be too sure when the police or some newspaper wanted to find out details about you. The company was impartial and didn’t care what they investigated, as long as they got paid.
Arthur made his way back up the stairs to the ground level of the house while he dialed a number on his cell phone. Keen for money, they always picked up quickly. It was the secretary who answered and always sounded as if she was bored.
“Hello, this is Arthur Bode. Could you get Mr. Sictern to call me as soon as possible about the incident the other evening at the hospital?”
Arthur made his way to the front parlor and poured himself a gin and tonic. Within five minutes, his phone rang to announce that Mr. Sictern was on his way. Business must be slow. Maybe people were not cheating on each other so much, or maybe they didn’t have the money to pay investigators anymore.
A short while later, Mr. Sictern and his colleague stood by the fireplace while Arthur and Gerald sat on couch. These men didn’t look like private investigators, though he doubted many wore trench coats and fedoras anymore. It was why he had chosen them. They looked more like local farmers come to town to be honest. They even had accents more reminiscent of the countryside of the West of England, where they rolled the letter “r” when they spoke.
“So what have you discovered?” Arthur asked. The morphine was wearing off and his body was aching. He would lose his temper, and that was not what he needed now. He needed help. He would not beg or ask for it, but he would pay as usual.
“It seems the woman you had us follow is no longer living at the house you visited. After the incident with the flying creatures, she returned to her home. We didn’t see her for a few days but kept a watch on the place. Then they came back.”
Arthur had wanted to believe it when Sictern said he saw an angel, but he had been led on wild goose chases before. He had paid a lot of money to get nowhere in the past, but this time he thought they were on to something. He remembered the woman now−Evie something or other. He couldn’t recall her last name. She had insisted that she could see angels and demons. His equipment had shown no evidence of anything paranormal in the house, though.
She claimed she hadn’t left the house for years, and he could believe it from the way she didn’t even want to go near the front door. He had thought her mad but not connected to anything paranormal, but now it seemed he had been too hasty in his analysis of her.
“So is she at her house now?”
“No. A group of them, including the female, Evie Withers, came back yesterday. There had been another lady, who looked like she had just got off the plane from Jamaica with her bright clothes. They talked to her and she left with them. We’re assuming the woman was related but can’t be sure. Ms. Withers grandparents were from Jamaica, but the family has been estranged.”
Arthur knew all this. He wanted to know where they were now.
“We followed them to a manor house on the outskirts of Bristol. I’ve a couple of my men watching the place in case they move on.”
Sictern’s cell phone rang. From the way he furrowed his brows, it was clear something had happened.
“My man at the house reported what sounded like a large explosion coming from inside. There’s been no movement, and he asked whether they should go in. I told him to wait for our arrival. I assume you would like to accompany me.”
“Yes. I’ll just go and get some equipment.” Arthur made his way upstairs, his heart beating so fast with excitement he could feel it in his chest. They were close, he was sure.
Whoever these people were that the young woman had become involved with had money. The manor house was beautiful and just the sort of place he would have when he achieved his new power and wealth. He deserved to be living somewhere like this. Not in a terrace surrounded by mere mortals who would never understand him.
Sictern spoke to his man, who was still sitting in his car opposite the front gates. He came back over and Arthur pushed the button to lower the window on the car.
“There’s still no movement. You ready to go in?”
Arthur was out of the car, with Gerald behind him. The gates creaked as they pushed them open and walked up the gravel path to the house. Each step they took crunched, and he was expecting someone to come out aiming a gun at them. Nothing happened. The front door was left wide open. Arthur’s hands started sweating at the thought that it might be a trap. He would let the paid help go first just in case.
Inside was as beautiful as outside. The furniture and paintings were old, and he found himself touching items as he followed the others around. This was the sort of life he should have. In the kitchen, a woman was sitting with a vegetable peeler still in her hand, but she was leaning forward so her head rested on the table and she looked asleep. There was another man sitting on the floor near the pantry. His eyes were closed as well. The container of potatoes he had been carrying had spilt over the floor. Sictern felt for their pulses and gave the thumbs up to show they were still alive.
They made their way into the hallway, where another two people were lying on the floor. This didn’t make sense. What had happened here? He covered his mouth and nose with his hand. Maybe it was some kind of poisonous gas. Sictern looked at him and shook his head.
“If it were gas, we would be out already. Plus, the front door was open, so it would have dissipated.”
More rooms and more people were found in a state of collapse, but Arthur was interested in Evie and her Angelic companion. Awhen had said she was the answer to being in contact with the angels. On the second floor, they found a bedroom with what they were looking for. One woman dressed in bike leathers was collapsed just inside the door. So was another guy who looked the size of a grizzly bear. A gray-haired, elegant lady lay on the floor beside the bed also. Her hands were clutched tight to her chest, as though they had been burned.
On the bed was the woman Evie, who he had interviewed six months ago. She appeared to be asleep. Her body lying still. Sictern moved around the other side of the bed and called Arthur over. There was a dark-haired man on the floor. His body was curled up, as though he had been punched in the gut, and yet he seemed unconscious like the others.
“This looks like the man who was seen flying outside the hospital with her. I suggest we get him and Evie away from here and secured before the others wake up. If he can fly, then we don’t know what else he can do.”
Sictern picked up Evie, while Arthur and Gerald helped his colleague carry the man out to the front of the house. Sictern motioned to his colleague in the van to come over. They tied Evie and Heath up and placed them in the back. One of the men had a Taser pointed at them in case they awoke and became difficult.
Arthur closed his eyes while they drove down the road. The morphine from earlier had worn off, and he could feel pain in his abdomen. But the elation of capturing these two and his goal so nearly achieved took the edge off. He had told his followers to come to the house, and they would complete the ceremony. All he had ever needed was the blood of a creature not of this world, and now he believed he had it.
They pulled into the courtyard, and others came to help them move the captives inside. He paid Sictern the money owed and the detective left.
Down in the basement, he had his men strip the man half-naked and put him in the torture contraption he had made especially for this occasion. There were beautiful, intricate tattoos of wings on the man’s back. They covered his whole back and stretched down below the waist of his pants. The contraption was essentially a cage shaped like a man, though he had this one made of toughened steel. He had found pictures of it in a book on medieval torture. He thought he had a strong stomach for most things, but there were things in there that even made him feel sick.
The man still wasn’t moving. Whatever had happened to them, Arthur hoped he would still get what he wanted. He had not come all this way for the person to die before he had the chance to kill them. Awhen would not play such a trick on him surely. He felt the man’s wrists and there was a pulse. Then again, if he wasn’t human, who knew what a pulse would mean?