Mystery's Choice (Vengeance Of The Fallen Book 1) (11 page)

“They found Shauna, she had been sacrificed, and her internal organs were missing.” He grabbed her and folded her into his arms. “All I could think about was you. I think the loonies who tore up the house, sacrificed Shauna. I thought they might try to get you again.”  He tightened his hold.

“Seth, I can’t breathe.”  Mystery smiled as Seth realized how tight he was holding her and let her go. “I had another nightmare, with the same man in it.”  She turned and went back into the living room, to her chair. “He wanted me to follow him, I couldn’t resist him.”

“Why don’t they just try to take you with them?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it has to be of my own free will.”  Mystery looked down at her shaking hands and closed her eyes. “Maybe the last of whatever spell, my father used to keep me safe from them, is wearing off and they can get to me now. They can harass me but they can’t hurt me or force me to go with them.”

Mystery jumped up out of the chair as high-pitched shrieking filled the room. Seth grabbed her hand and they ran towards the kitchen. There were winged creatures flying around the room, emptying the cupboards and the refrigerator. Seth stepped over to close the refrigerator door and one of them attacked him. He screamed as the claws and teeth ripped open his skin; falling to the floor he tried to protect his head and face.

Mystery saw the other creatures head towards Seth. She thought about sending them back to wherever they came from and making sure they couldn’t come back to hurt them ever again. She looked at the creature trying its best to scratch Seth’s eyes out and it burst into a million microscopic bits. She turned her gaze on the others and one by one they also exploded. When the kitchen was quiet, except for the sound of Seth’s heavy breathing, she collapsed to her knees and wailed. Seth crawled over to her and they sat there in the middle of the kitchen floor, covered with most of their food, holding each other and crying.

9

Raevanne waited drowsily for her husband to fall asleep. She went to the window and looked out over the grounds of the aerie. Leaning on the rock ledge window she said a silent prayer for mercy to the Master. It would not take much longer for Cain to realize she had found their child. And the dreams she had sent the girl, only terrified her. The small demon attacks, had finally resulted in her using her powers to save her weak mortal boyfriend. However, she had no idea where the power had come from and it only served to make matters worse.

She would never forget the day when she had plucked the knowledge her daughter was alive and well, as well as her location from Daniel’s mind. After the anger of being betrayed had passed, she had felt a surge of love and instant fear for her child. Cain would destroy the child if he could not turn her back to her people. So, Raevanne had spent every moment she could trying to make the girl remember who and what she was. Mystery Williams, as she believed her name to be, had grown into a beautiful woman. She knew nothing of her people. She did not even know her real name was Melusine. She knew nothing of her heritage; she had actually been raised to worship the false god. She would never turn, she would use her powers against her father, Cain, and she would die.

In total panic, she had called the girl’s adoptive parents and warned them. She had been trying desperately to hide the child’s whereabouts deep within, but Cain knew she was keeping something from him. It wouldn’t be long before he figured out what.  

Raevanne covered herself and went downstairs to the library. She turned on an antique Tiffany lamp and sat down at a gleaming, cherry wood Queen Anne desk. She took out an ancient, leather-bound book. She traced her fingers over the lettering, “
The Book of Swords
”. The book had been passed down to her over thousands of years and hundreds of Shivanas had seen its readings. She just had to pass it on to Mystery and Mystery to her children.

Raevanne opened the book and turned the worn pages until she came to an entry written in a flowing hand. The entry had always been her favorite growing up. Her mother had told her she resembled her great-grandmother, Khatima, enough they could have been twins. It was Khatima who had brought the Roodmasi to America, she who had given them the rights and privileges of English nobility, and her money had built the aeries and temples. Raevanne lowered her head and began to read from the book, her eyes going dreamy as she pictured a crowded East Indian street teeming with people and animals…

  
Phillip Attingworth was coming home aboard the British Indiaman, The Pirate’s Lady. In the three years he had been gone, Khatima had missed him terribly. London might have needed him, but she had needed him more. She had been 15 when he had left her without a mother. The years he had been gone had been filled with a debut and beaux, she had turned down proposal after proposal, wanting him to approve of her decision. She had turned into quite a young woman and was accomplished at running their large estate, but she still missed her father and hungered for his approval.

Khatima looked around her, as she stood waiting at the pier. The streets were congested with people of lesser social standing. She wrinkled her nose as the stench of the street caught in it. Her father’s guards were standing a respectable distance behind her, so, she felt safe from the throng; no one would dare accost a British noble on the street. So, she turned her attention away from the strange inhabitants of the foreign land her father had insisted they make their home, and went back to watching the water for her father’s ship.

Khatima shrieked a very unladylike shriek when she saw The Pirate’s Lady pulling into dock. Her green eyes shone with excitement as she spotted her father waving at her. She filled with pride as he made his way regally down the gangplank and the crowd parted to allow him passage.

“Father, Father!”  Khatima yelled with joy and launched herself towards her father.

Khatima was just a few steps from him, when a hooded figure stepped out in front of her. She ran into it and it grabbed her arms. She looked indignantly at the figure and tried to free herself. She couldn’t break free and turning she noticed the guards were holding her father back. She screamed for him.

As she glanced from side to side, calling out for help, she noticed everyone backing away, as though they feared the lone figure too much to help her. Other men from the streets had joined the guards in restraining her father. As she watched her father’s manservant, Riem, whispered in her father’s ear. Her father called out to her in despair. Khatima screamed. Fear stole her breath and the world began to gray.

When Khatima awoke she found herself lying on a pallet made of blankets. A tent sheltered her from the softly falling rain. She sat up and listened to voices outside, the language was one she had never heard. She sensed a presence in the tent with her, and turning she found a hooded figure standing there. Khatima drew back instinctively. The figure came slowly toward her; it raised long, slender hands in front of it.

“I mean you no harm, you needn’t be afraid. I am Mael,” he said in a deep resonant voice. He sat down beside her and lowered the hood, revealing a kind face and stunning jet black eyes.

“Where am I?”  Khatima asked as she looked around her at the tent. “Where is my father?”

“You are in my people’s camp, we are the Roodmasi. Your father is safe in Satara.”  He moved closer, pleased when she did not move away, “No harm will come to him, I promise.”  He said soothingly.

“Why am I here?”

Mael’s eyes shone in the half-light, “You are to become my bride and the Shivana of the Roodmasi.”  He stood and began to prowl the tent. “I have been watching you. You will make the Roodmasi strong.”

Khatima found herself relaxing more and more with each word he spoke, until she no longer cared about leaving this strange place, or whether or not her father was worried. She sighed contently.

Mael smiled. “I will send someone with food and drink.”  He bent and kissed her forehead, “Goodnight, my love.”  He brushed her lips gently.

Raevanne closed the tattered book and sighed. Khatima had eventually come to love Mael. They had been married and when her father become ill, she had gone to him. He had left her his fortunes and she, Mael, and the Roodmasi had come to America where they had thrived. She frowned in concentration; somehow she must save her child. The Roodmasi must always triumph. Raevanne was so deep in thought she didn’t hear Cain come into the library.

“You know where the girl is!”  Cain growled as he came towards her.

“No!”  Raevanne backed away.

“Yes, my darling you do.”  Cain said quietly, as he took her by the arms, and began to squeeze, “And you will tell me, one way or another.”

Raevanne screamed.

Sam looked around the conference room at the officers gathered there. His gaze took in the work board with the pictures of the dead girls before and after they were taken and slaughtered. He knew the men and women gathered there were the best the city had to offer to deal with these horrible crimes. He and Naomi were working with the cops who were the most able to catch whoever was terrorizing the city. Detectives Ballard and Ramirez were there; both were experts in occult crimes. Dr. Terrence Shoemaker was one of the top profilers in the country. Detectives D’Angelo and Forrest were with the city’s serial crimes unit.

Detective Ballard caught his eye and she smiled as she bounced over to him.

“Hey, Sam, it’s been a while.”  She shook his hand.

“Yeah. How have you been?” Sam tried to smile back, except his smile wasn’t working much anymore.

“Naomi and you have done your best, this isn’t a reflection on the two of you.”  Ballard said as she looked around the room for Naomi, finding her, she motioned her over.

“Hi. Mary Kate.”  Naomi said as she walked over and put her hand on Sam’s shoulder.

“Hi. I was just telling Sam, this isn’t a reflection on your capabilities, it’s just a matter of numbers and bizarreness of the crimes.”

“I know; I am just glad to have the help. We’ve been spinning our wheels.”  Naomi’s frustration showed through in her big brown eyes.

“We have a case which we believe to be related to yours and we haven’t been able to get anywhere with it either.”

“What is Felicity’s take on all of this?”  Naomi looked over to where Ballard’s partner was writing on the dry erase board by the work board.

“She believes we have a sect of a rather violent cult from California operating in town. She thinks they are not only responsible for the four dead girls, but two more as well. She has evidence this group also killed a missing persons you are working on. She thinks a vandalism case we got called in on is also related, maybe even at the heart of the problem.

“Why would she think a vandalism case is the center of all this?”

“The vandalism was Satanic in nature and the girl involved in the case was kidnapped from a cult in California 17 years ago.”

Chief Kessler went to the front of the conference room. “May I have everyone’s attention?”

Ballard and Naomi took seats by Sam and everybody else seated themselves around the big oak conference table.

“Thank you. I am going to turn the floor over to Detective Felicity Ramirez.”  He turned to look at the tall Hispanic woman at the dry erase board. “Detective Ramirez.”  He went and sat down.

“A few weeks back, my partner and I were called to the scene of a B and E. When we got there I examined the scene and found it to be consistent with Occult Crime scenes I have witnessed before. My partner stayed outside and talked with the woman who lived there. She had just found out she had been taken from a cult when she was three and the only information she had been able to find is the cult was based in California.” She stepped back so the dry erase board was viewable. “I have heard of a couple of ultra violent satanic cults in the California area. When I researched them I found the symbols scrawled on the wall in feces were indicative of one of the cults in particular. She pointed at an intricately scrolled symbol. “This symbol means Roodmasi, they are wanted in connection with over 30 murders in the LA area alone. There are sects in New York, Chicago, D.C., and Miami; there may be more we are not aware of. This cult is well educated, wealthy, and connected. Their crimes are usually covered up by the law enforcement in the area. In checking, I found there have been seven prior cases in the Denver Metro area where this symbol has turned up and each time Occult Crimes investigated they came up against a dead end.”  She walked over to the work board where the dead girls’ pictures were hanging. “Their crimes extend outside of these horrible murders, I believe the cult is responsible for the death of the B and E’s father, the death of a young woman mutilated in a local church, and the disappearance of another teenage girl who claimed to have escaped this cult.”  She made eye contact with each of the officers as she spoke. “It doesn’t matter whether you believe in their cause or not; they do, and they are going to keep on going strong until someone closes down the whole shebang.”  She placed the pointer she had been using back on the board. “Now we will hear about the psychological factors in dealing with this type of violent cult from Dr. Shoemaker.” She went and sat down next to Ballard as the doctor made his way to the front of the room.

“Hello.”  He said as he slipped his hands into the pocket of his corduroy pants and slouched. His black hair caught the light and shone. He exuded a quiet confidence, which put the room at ease.

“The groups Detective Ramirez is talking about I believe contain families. I am talking about men, women, and children who believe and have believed since birth they exist to serve Satan. They do not see their actions as evil they see them as survival. They believe themselves to be at war with God and his followers. They will kill anyone who they think can expose their whereabouts. When they make a kill, they make it as gruesome as possible to discourage others. Forget about the crazies you see in movies and on TV. This group is well-educated and completely sane.”  At the moans and laughs that brought, he frowned. “To dismiss them as being nothing more than your average lunatic fringe would be a mistake. This is a well-formed society, which has been functioning for years, at least twenty we are sure of. Their leader is probably a high-functioning megalomaniac, who rules his followers with an iron fist. He deals with any insurrection immediately and violently. If the young woman was taken from this group, they will not stop until they get her back. They have not taken her because they believe she must come back of her own free will. It is my belief the killing will continue, leading up to a mass killing of some type to celebrate a special day or event. Anyone he or she believes to be in their way they will not hesitate to kill. Which means they will probably come after this task force with a vengeance.”  He went back to his seat.