Welsh Road (The Depravity Chronicles) (32 page)

Just as Nina
made the gesture, Anish threw himself in front of the group to shield them.
Instead, Nina threw the black sphere behind her. The black sphere morphed into
a thick, tar-like substance. Then, slowly, the tar gathered itself together and
began to rise from the floor. Gradually, the tar assumed a familiar, humanoid
shape. When the figure stepped out of the tar, it was still covered from head
to toe. Then Nina conjured an equally large white sphere, and threw it at the
new arrival. In essence, it was like a magical stain remover. The black, sticky
goo dissipated and in its place stood a man.

“You’ve got to
be kidding me,” Anna said. “Who’s this clown?”

“Well hello,” Nina
said to the man, smiling. “Welcome to the party.”

“A pleasure to
be invited,” the man said, looking at the group. He took a special interest in
Simon, looking him up and down. Then he said the last thing that anyone was
expecting him to say. “Hello, my son. It’s been a while.”

“Hello, Father,”
Simon said, his voice shaking.

Then the shit
really
hit the fan.

1

“Father?” Trevor
asked, completely confused. “Please tell me he’s some sort of dark magic priest
or something. That
can’t
be your dad.”

“Simon, honey,
that doesn’t look like your dad,” Anna said.

“Who cares what
he looks like,” Jena interjected. “The more appropriate question is, like, how
the F did he just magically appear from a blob of tar? I mean, can you beam
people up like on Star Trek?”

“Is that
question for me?” Nina asked, thrilled by the shock on everyone’s face. She was
especially pleased by Simon’s emotions: a mixture of pain, terror, and rage.

“Yes, that’s my
biological father,” Simon answered flatly.

“But…how…you…
what
?”
Trevor stuttered.

“If you could
see the looks on your faces!” Nina exclaimed. “It would be so easy to kill all
of you right now. Even you, Anish, are much too distracted for a man with your,
ahem,
skills
.”

“You’re supposed
to be dead,” Simon said. “I
watched
you die.”

“What do you
mean you watched him die?” Sam asked, walking up to Simon and putting an arm
around his shoulder.

“Because I
killed him,” Simon replied.

Silence
dominated the next few moments. If a cricket farted, it would have shaken the
room. Anna and Trevor couldn’t wrap their heads around this news. All of these
years that Simon’s been a part of their family, and he hadn’t even hinted that
the man he called Dad was not, in fact, his father. Sam and Matthew both
noticed the similarities between Simon and his father: the prominent cheek
bones, bright green eyes, and the button nose. Jena was completely numb, all
too aware of her mother’s body across the room.

It was Anish who
made the first move.

“This necklace
does not belong to you,” Anish said as he reached out his hand. The talisman
began to spin slowly, which was
not
supposed to happen. As Anish
concentrated more intensely on retrieving the necklace, the talisman spun
faster and faster.

“Anish, what’s
wrong?” Matthew asked as he noticed Anish’s pained expression.

“I don’t
understand,” Anish answered. “I can’t seem to hone in on the talisman.”

“But you’re
making it spin, right?” Sam asked.

Anish just shook
his head. As beads of sweat began appearing on Anish’s brow, Matthew and Sam
exchanged nervous looks. If Anish was having this much difficulty against Nina,
they may not leave this farmhouse alive.

“Enough!” Nina
sang, holding the note for nearly five seconds. It was incredibly loud, driving
a few people to cover their ears. The talisman stopped spinning, coming to rest
as if it had never moved.

“God, that was
freakin’ loud,” Jena protested.

Nina gestured
grandly toward Simon and his father. “We’re ignoring this touching family
reunion! It’s not every day that the father you tried to murder comes back for
a visit.”

“It’s been a
while,” Simon’s father said, walking up to Nina and taking her hand, though
keeping his eyes on Simon. He stroked Nina’s hair and caressed her face.

“Gross,” Jena
moaned.

“It certainly
has,” Simon said, shaking his head. He closed his eyes as tightly as he could, thinking
that perhaps Nina was messing with his mind. When he opened his eyes, he wasn’t
sure how to deal with who – or what – stood before him.

“Still here,”
his father said, waving to him.

“Now, now,
Constantine,” Nina said. “It’s not nice to pick on your son after being
estranged for so long.”

“Not nice?” Constantine
growled. “
Not nice
? I am showing considerable restraint. After all, that
boy tried to kill me. There I was, minding my own business…”

“Minding your own
business?” Simon barked. “You’re a rapist!”

“A what?” Anna
asked, astounded by the unexpected turn of events.

“If I’m correct,
rape is not a crime punishable by death,” Constantine said matter-of-factly.
“Your mother wanted it. She loved every minute of it. You were conceived in
love.”

“Oh, sweet
Jesus!” Anna exclaimed. “He raped your mother?”

“He did,” Simon
said. “I am the product of a most imperfect union. That’s why my own mother
can’t stand to look at me.”

That explains a
lot
,
Anna thought to herself.

Nina conjured a
microphone in her hand. “Tell me, Constantine, how did that make you feel?”

Constantine
grabbed the microphone, making Nina scream with delight. “There I was, a few
years back, stalking some pretty thing. Next thing I know, there’s a knock on
my motel door. I open it to find this kid here pointing a gun at my head.”

Nina conjured the
sound of a horrified television audience you might find at a Jerry Springer
show. “A son tracks down his bio dad, only to kill him. Tell us, Constantine,
what happened next?”

“The bastard
shot me,” Constantine said. “I have to say, though, that I am quite proud of
the boy. His thirst for blood, that comes from his daddy.”

Suddenly a
microphone appeared in Simon’s hand. He threw it on the floor, only to have
another one appear in his hand. He tried to speak without using the mic, but he
couldn’t produce any sound.

“Use the microphone,”
Nina groaned, irritated that Simon wouldn’t play along.

After a few
additional failed attempts at talking, Simon reluctantly put the microphone to
his lips. “You have a knack for revisionist history, old man.”

“Revisionist
history?” Constantine repeated, looking to Nina for a definition, feigning
ignorance.

“It means you’re
an idiot,” Nina said, slapping him in the back of the head. “Tell me, Simon,
what do you remember about that day?”

“It doesn’t
matter,” Simon spat.

“Dude, why
didn’t you tell me?” Trevor whispered, clearly hurt by his best friend’s dark
secret.

“Kinda hard to
bring up in conversation, you know,” Simon answered. “Pass the salt. By the
way, I blew my father’s head off last week after spending seven years tracking
him down.”

“Seven years!”
Anna cried. “Simon, I could have helped you.”

“Yeah, but you
wouldn’t have let me kill him.” Simon seemed to have no remorse for his
actions.

“Well, I suppose
that’s true,” Anna admitted. Her heart was breaking as she watched the boy she
loved like a son suffering so profoundly. “Simon, I’m so sorry.”

“Your mother
always hated you,” Constantine ridiculed. “I told her to abort you.”

“
Shut your
mouth
!” Jena shrieked, throwing her hands into the air. Suddenly,
Constantine was thrown backward and slammed into one of the marble columns of
the altar.

Another blast of
air forced its way through the room, this time striking Jena. “I’m growing
tired of air battles,” Nina said. “Is that all you can do?”

Just as Jena was
about to unleash some of Nina’s own medicine, Anish stopped her. “Not yet,” he
said to Jena. “Not this way.”

“It seems we’re
at a standstill,” Nina observed. She closed her eyes and began chanting
quietly. Anish also spoke in a language no one recognized, trying to cast
counter charms against Nina’s magic. But he was too late.

“I can’t move,”
Trevor said, panicked.

“Hence the
standstill comment,” Nina said with a laugh. “I love a good double entendre.”

“It’s an
immobilizing spell,” Anish explained. “I tried to counteract it, but I was too
late.”

“It’s time to
pay the piper,” Constantine said to Simon as he climbed to his feet, brushing
off the debris from jacket. He began to cross the room, but when he was about
ten feet from Simon, Constantine found that he too couldn’t move.

“You are
not
going
to kill anyone,” Nina said. “At least not yet. For the time being, I need your
boy alive.”

“I have no
intention of killing him,” Constantine said.

“Are you going
to tell us what you’re planning?” Matthew asked Nina pointedly.

“And give away
the ending? I think not,” Nina said, shaking her finger at the priest.

“Why not? We’re
all going to die anyway, right? What harm would it do?” Matthew was hoping that
she was prideful enough to fall for it and start bragging.

“I am not as simple
minded as the demons you’ve defeated,” Nina growled. “Besides, you’ll see soon
enough what I have in store for you. Each of you has value, but in very
different ways.”

“How are you
even alive?” Simon asked his father. “I shot you in
the head
.”

Constantine
looked at Nina, who shook her head.

“What? You take
orders from her now?” Simon said, mocking him. “You’re her little bitch, huh?
You always were a weak, wretched piece of shit.”

“You’ll pay for
that, my little bastard child,” Constantine promised. “Just as soon as I can
move.” He glared at Nina, who just rolled her eyes.

“Aww, is Miss
Nina your master?” Trevor taunted, following Simon’s lead. “Thank God this
douche didn’t raise you, bro. You would’ve been such a wuss, never getting
laid. Pathetic.”

“You have no
idea who you’re dealing with!” Constantine howled. “I am a Son of…”

“A bitch!” Nina
finished his sentence, grabbing him by the throat and cutting off his air
supply. She leaned over and whispered in his ear, staring at Simon as she
spoke. Constantine pursed his lips together so tightly that blood trickled from
the corner of his mouth.

“Look at your
daddy,” Trevor pushed. “He cries blood. Controlled by a dominatrix bitch like
Nina.”

“You dare to
speak to me in such a manner?” Constantine demanded after Nina released him. He
looked to Nina again, glaring at her as if daring him not to speak.
Reluctantly, she gave him a curt nod.

“I was born
before your kind was even conceived,” Constantine declared. “When the earth was
belched into existence, I was already ancient.”

“Such a flare
for the dramatic, this one,” Nina jokingly whispered to the group, pointing at
Constantine.

“What the hell
are you talking about?” Simon asked. “What are you saying?”

“I am of the
Fallen!” Constantine cried out triumphantly. “Before there was damnation, there
was only me and my brethren.”

Nina was none
too happy to hear this, so Constantine’s victory was short-lived. Nina pressed
her forefinger to his temple, thinking it would render him unconscious. It
didn’t work.

“You are my
offspring, Simon! You are Nephilim!”

“Shit just got real,”
Trevor said, trying not to panic. Sam nodded in agreement.

“You’re a liar!”
Simon accused.

Constantine spit
on the floor. “What a disgrace you are. There are so few of you in this world.
You have so much potential, but you waste your talents on these humans. You are
Nephilim!”

“So you said,”
Simon whispered, his voice quivering. Could this be true? “Why haven’t I sensed
this?” Simon shook his head. “No way. You’re a liar.”

“I may be a liar,
Simon. That much is true. But I do not lie about my children. The reason you
have not experienced the divinity that flows through your veins is because you
have not yet received your spark.”

“My spark?”
Simon repeated.

“Your spark of
divinity,” Constantine answered. “Just because we are Fallen does not mean we
are without our divine spark.”

“When does that
happen?” Trevor asked when he realized that Simon wasn’t going to.

“The spark
customarily awakens on your 18
^th
birthday,” Constantine explained.
“You will be given a whole new life. That day fast approaches, my son. Faster
than you might think.”

“Am I the only
one here who is totally lost?” Jena asked. She looked at Constantine. “You’re
the Fallen? You’re older than the earth? Dude, that’s like billions of years.”

“Time passes
much differently on other planes,” he answered.

“Okay, pretty
sure he doesn’t mean airplanes,” Anna said, only half joking.

“You talk too
much,” Nina said to Constantine, wondering how to subdue him. As he continued
to babble on, Nina went old school. “When magic doesn’t do the trick, you have
to resort to old-fashioned methods.” She walked over to the fireplace, grabbed
the iron ash shovel, and struck Constantine over the head.  He collapsed in a
heap onto the floor. “Yep. That should do it.”

“Did you
seriously just kill him?” Simon asked.

“Are you worried
about Daddy? You men are such pains in the ass. What would you do without us
women to keep you in line?”

“Is he dead?”
Trevor asked.