2 The Judas Kiss (11 page)

             
“Stella, you were there during the blast,” Ben said slowly.

             
“The hell I was,” she replied sharply.  “If your little friend over there is trying to imply-”

             
Ben glanced over at a grinning Andrew and then shook his head, interrupting her.  “When I got to the building this morning, one of the responding officers was still there.  The first eyewitness to the explosion and the one who made the 9-1-1 call was you, Stella.  You were there for over two hours after you provided your witness statement.”

             
All the color drained from Stella’s face as she stared at Ben.  “What?” she asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

             
Ben sat back and looked at her.  She was not faking her reaction as best he could tell.  Her hands began to tremble visibly as she swiped at her face, and she looked like she might be sick.  After everything he’d been through, Ben knew he shouldn’t be surprised at the idea that she was one of them, or being used by one of them, but it didn’t make accepting it any easier. 

             
“I um…” she said blankly.

             
“Well I certainly hope you aren’t surprised,” Andrew said, rising from the bed and crossing the room.  He kicked one of Stella’s lace bra’s to the side with his foot as he approached the small table.  “Are you trying to say you don’t remember having a black-out episode right after you exited Mark’s apartment?”

             
“Were you there?” Ben asked, staring up at Andrew.

             
“No,” Andrew said, “but I happen to know that when she switches over, she blacks out, and I’m curious as to why her blacking out didn’t cause reason for suspicion.  At least suspicion enough to drive back to Mark’s in the morning to check on him.”             

             
Ben’s eyes snapped to Stella’s face which was still pale and drawn.  “Look, I was tired,” she said.  “I’ve been dealing with…” she trailed off and glanced at the hotel door for a moment, “a personal issue which, despite what you might think, has nothing to do with Mark or Judas.  The uh,
blackout
,” she said, stressing the word, “was scheduled.”

             
Ben’s stomach gave a lurch as he realized that whatever thing she was involved with was voluntary.  She was electively one of these monsters, and she had been the entire time.  Ben began to sweat and he sat back, wiping the drops from his brow.  “How long?” he asked.

             
Stella looked at him, almost startled that he’d spoken.  She cleared her throat and asked, “Sorry?”

             
“How long,” Ben repeated pointedly, “has this been going on?  How long have you been letting one of them use your body?”

             
Stella looked down but said nothing. 

             
Ben slapped his hand on the top of the table, startling her.  He was angry now, betrayed and hurt and he wanted some answers.  When he thought Abby had died, he thought this was over, that they’d averted whatever crisis had been looming over their heads.  Now he had some ancient skateboard kid standing over him saying that his sister was alive, and that he had to try and stop this impending global disaster now that Mark and Judas had disappeared.  Again.  To top it off, the one woman he’d bothered to give a shit about in over a decade was actually one of them, and had been hiding it from Ben the entire time.

             
“It’s not as simple as that,” Stella began.

             
Ben snorted, interrupting her, and he stood.  “Right.  Not as simple as that.  Well that’s convenient, now isn’t it?  First you come and sell me some bullshit about how I was right, there was a scientific explanation for everything going on as I was dealing with a spontaneously healing brain tumor, a missing immortal, and Greek gods up my ass at every turn.  Now I find out you’re blacking out, and that you actually let one of them use your body?  How do you know that whatever took you over last night didn’t blow up that building?”

             
Stella and Andrew exchanged a long look before she answered.  “My other half,” she said carefully, “did not blow up the building.  My other half isn’t working with anyone who is after Mark or Judas.  I can tell you that for sure.”

             
“You do realize I don’t believe a goddamn thing you say now, right?” Ben growled at her.

             
“She’s telling the truth,” Andrew said, stepping in. 

             
“You know this how?” Ben demanded.

             
Andrew sighed.  “Because I do.  We’re not getting anywhere here, and while I know you’re all upset and betrayed, we’ve got to move on.  We’re losing time, she has no answers and we need to find someone who does.  So why don’t you update your Facebook relationship status to ‘it’s complicated’ and then we can hit the road.  I have an idea of where we need to go, but we need to head out now if we’re going to make it in time.”

             
Ben glared at Andrew, but was promptly ignored as Andrew walked to the door, opened it, and let himself out.  With a sigh, Ben looked back down at Stella who was openly crying.  “We are not done here,” he said to her forcefully.

             
“Look, if I hear anything, I’ll let you know.  He’s right, and you guys can’t waste any more time with me,” Stella said.

             
Ben hesitated, wondering if she was trying to throw them off by directing them away.  Still, he had to go with his gut on this one and follow Andrew. So far Andrew was the only one who had given him information he could use, and the only one who hadn’t hidden anything from him.

             
“He said my sister is alive,” Ben said as he started to leave.  He ignored Stella’s surprised gasp as she rose to come after him.  “If I find out that you knew and didn’t tell me…”

             
“I didn’t know,” she said, her voice changing dramatically.  “Ben, I would have never kept that from you!”

             
“Don’t leave town,” Ben warned as he opened the door.  “Don’t make me track you down.”  He didn’t wait for a response from her, slamming the door behind him as he walked into the hall.  Andrew was waiting at the turn for him, and as he caught up, the pair made their way back to the elevator without saying a word.

             
As they got in, Ben punched the button for the ground floor and the elevator began its plummet down.  Ben felt a wave of dizziness as his body adjusted to the solid floor, and they made their way through the crowded lobby and onto the street.

             
Andrew was walking quickly, a few steps ahead of Ben, but the detective made no move to increase his speed.  Andrew was leading the way now, and he was following, clinging to a desperate hope that when they found Mark and Judas, his sister’s rescue might not be far behind.

Chapter Six

              Mark became conscious before he could move his limbs.  He had been dreaming of the desert, of millennia ago when he walked, scalding sand marring his feet as he crossed from city to city, searching, desperate for answers. 

The first thing Mark noticed as his brain flared to life was the bed beneath him.  It was hard, the stuffing below matted down thick and tough.  He wasn’t bound, but his limbs didn’t want to move of their own accord.

              His skin felt charred, hot, stretched over his muscle and bones.  He ached all over, and searing pain shot up his arm as he finally got his fingers to twitch.  He sucked in his breath and forced himself to raise his arm in spite of the pain, his fingers raw but intact, touching his face to inspect the damage.

             
He was singed, but he wasn’t incapacitated.  His eyebrows, eyelashes and front of his hair were burnt, but he could see in the dim light, and nothing was broken.  Mark vaguely remembered the blast, the searing heat rushing through the apartment as the walls blew out.  He remembered the couch he’d been sitting on flying out from under him, and he hit the floor with a heavy thud, flames erupting along the walls just before his world went black.

             
And now he was here, wherever that was, lying on an uncomfortable bed in the middle of a cold, damp room.  Rolling onto his side, Mark gasped at the pain, but forced himself to sit up.  He moved sluggishly, his brain now completely aware but his limbs refusing to follow suit.  He realized that it was likely he’d been drugged, and he stared around in the dim space, trying desperately to see who could have possibly done this.

             
Obviously it was them, the ancient ones, and Mark was certain it was Nike, but he had no idea how strong she was since her preferred vessel had been destroyed.  He stood, looking down at the pants and shirt that were burnt and barely intact.  His feet were bare, and the floor beneath them was freezing cold as he padded across the concrete and into the main room.

             
It was small, about the same size as his bedroom at the school had been, with bare walls, a low ceiling, and a small desk in the corner with a small, green-shaded desk lamp.  Mark heard breathing and turned to look behind him.

             
In a chair was the answer to the last question running desperately through his hazy mind; where was Jude?  His companion was unconscious, tied to a chair propped against the wall.  His head rested forward, chin on his chest, and his breathing was a little stilted, but steady.

             
Mark’s brain snapped into rescue mode, but as he took a few steps toward his unconscious friend, the door to the room banged open and in strolled someone Mark thought he would never see again.  Laying eyes on Abby was almost as much of a shock as the explosion had been, and Mark stumbled, his breath catching in his throat.

             
“Surprised to see me?” she asked, her voice low and husky.  She smiled widely, her face looking gaunt and sallow in the dim light.  Mark took a step back as she took one forward, and put her hands on her slender hips.

             
In the glare of the desk lamp, Mark could barely make out several, winding scars covering her arms, and a little across her neck, which told him she hadn’t escaped the blast, but had somehow survived it.  He backed up until he was pressed against the far wall, feeling safer knowing that everything in the room was now visible to him.

             
“How?” he managed to ask after composing himself.

             
Crossing the room, Abby, or rather Nike, pulled the chair away from the desk and set it in the middle of the room.  She sat, smoothing the red skirt she wore down over her knee, and folded her hands in her lap.  “It’s amazing what these bodies can withstand when there’s a higher consciousness inside of them,” she replied after studying him a moment.  “You know, I think it’s less the fragility of the human form and more the weakness of the human consciousness.”  She gave a nonchalant shrug and sat back.  “And look at you, all awake and alert, ready to just go, go, go!  How do you feel?”

             
“Surprisingly well for being blown up,” Mark said dryly, his hands clenched at his sides.  “You do realize that whatever it is you want, I’m not going to give it to you.”

             
Nike laughed and clapped her hands together twice, giving a little shake of her head.  “Yes you are!  Mark, darling, you’ve been the easiest to manipulate out of all of these little sacks of meat.”  She rose, her eyes going narrow and dangerous, and she took three steps toward him.  Mark could make out the intricate scars along her neck now, showing how deeply she’d been wounded, and he wondered if there was any of Abby left inside.

             
“I don’t care what you do to me, I’m not giving you anything,” Mark said through clenched teeth.  He was absolutely prepared to face whatever hell she had for him.  He’d done it before in history, and no one had ever made him give in.

             
She rolled her eyes and reached out a long, slender hand, giving his cheek a gentle pat.  “Oh my darling, I’m not going to do anything to
you
.”  She backed up, glanced quickly over at Jude’s unconscious form and smiled back at Mark.  “I’ve been watching you two for some time now, trying to figure out how you tick,” she said, cocking her head to the side.  “Just watching, poking at you a little.  Seeing what, oh what, makes little Marky
flinch
.”  She clapped her hands hard an inch away from Mark’s nose, making him do just that.

             
She let out a peal of laughter as she crossed the room.  She grabbed Jude by the back of his hair suddenly, wrenching his head up.  Mark flinched and nearly dashed forward before forcing himself to stop.  Nike’s grin widened and she let Jude’s head fall back down.  “He can’t feel a thing right now.  He’s drugged up, playing in his happy little dreams.  But believe me, I can make him hurt.”

             
“What do you want?” Mark asked through clenched teeth.  He looked around the room for something, anything he could use against her.  He cared for Abby a great deal, but not enough to stop him from killing her once and for all.