2 The Judas Kiss (41 page)

             
“I want to read the pages,” Ben said suddenly, interrupting Mark’s rapid thoughts.

             
The request physically startled Mark, and instinctively he clutched the case tighter, giving his head a small shake.  “No Ben.  I’m really sorry but I can’t let you.  It’s too dangerous.”

             
Ben’s jaw clenched, but his expression was neutral and his voice flat when he spoke.  “You all keep saying I’m special.  There’s something different, unique, about my sister and me.  The gods can’t sense me because of my abject disbelief, but there’s more to it.  I’m stronger than other humans when it comes to them, and they want that strength.  So let’s prove it.  Let me read it.  If it makes me go insane, if I try and start a cult, then I was wrong.  Then you can kill me.”

             
Mark stared at him with a frown, unsure whether or not Ben’s final statement was serious, which Mark believed it was.  Ben was stoic and determined, and Mark realized that perhaps Ben was the one human being who could read the pages and not be affected.  Maybe Ben was the only one who could take on the honest information and not be turned.  It might offer some sort of insight into why Ben was special, why he was stronger than most.

             
Mark’s fingers loosened on the case, but only slightly.  “Ben, I’m not sure I want to take that risk.  There’s no turning back if I let you do this and you become affected.”

             
Crossing the distance between them, Ben reached out for the case and closed his fingers around the handle.  “I am.  I’m sure I want to take the risk.  Obviously this isn’t over, and right now I want to know everything.  I need to know everything.  I want to know where you came from; I want to know the effect of your power, and how you and Judas came to be.  I experienced Judas’s power first hand today, and the time has come to know yours.”

             
Mark let the words sink in, and as he did, he slowly released his grip on the case, letting Ben slide it across the counter.  This wasn’t the Ben he knew, the angry Atheist who felt like the entire world was conspiring against his mental health.  This was a Ben who wanted answers, who was prepared to accept them to fight Nike, secure Mark and Jude’s safety, and, if possible, save his sister from an angry, ancient goddess.  And honestly, Ben was right, there was no denying that.  This was far from over.  They’d escaped Nike’s grasp again, but with Abby still alive, and no idea how to stop Nike in her true form, they would be pursued until the end of time.

             
Not even death was available to free Mark and Judas from Nike’s desire to obtain their powers, and Mark had to try something,
anything
, and it seemed like Ben was the closest thing he had to hope.  If Ben was right, if he really was special, the writing wouldn’t affect him, and maybe it would help guide them to the answer of why they had been given these powers, and, in the end, how to release them so he and Jude could move on.  He simply had to try.

With a deep breath he sat back and nodded at Ben, giving him his blessing.  With an audible sigh of relief, Ben grasped the case in his hands and started up the stairs to the room he and Stella had chosen to occupy.  They passed through the living room where Stella was sitting on the couch and she rose as they started up the stairs. 

“Where are you going?” she called.

“I’m going to read Mark’s writing,” was the short, stilted reply that Ben gave as he made his way up to the landing.

              As they made it to the room, Mark didn’t notice that Stella had followed them until she closed the bedroom door.  He turned and glared at her, but she crossed her arms, making it clear that she was going to be present for whatever Mark had to say. 

Ben settled himself in a chair near the window, popping the latches on the case, but he waited to open it.  Mark could almost feel the power of his words locked inside, the threat they possessed, and the desire to grab them and burn them was almost overwhelming.  He clenched his hands at his sides to prevent himself from making any rash decisions.

              “Stella, I’m afraid I can’t let you read the words,” Mark said as she took a step towards Ben.  “Provided he’s not affected by it all, he should be able to tell you the story, but I can’t take the risk of the human side of you being affected.”

             
Stella gave a mute nod, but stared on, still suspicious.  “And what if he is affected?”

             
Mark shrugged.   “I don’t know.  I suppose we’ll deal with that if the situation arises.”

             
“Worse comes to worse, you kill me,” Ben said plainly.

             
“I would never let that happen,” Stella argued.

             
“You’ll do what you have to, Stella,” Ben barked at her, still not taking his eyes off of the closed case sitting across his lap.  “But right now we don’t need to think like that.  I’m tired.  I’ve mourned my sister, buried her, brought her back from the dead, and I’ve left her in their hands once again.  They still have the upper hand, and it’s time for me to use everything I have to try and figure out how to stop them.  Step one is to understand what the hell is going on with Mark and Judas.  If step one fails, shoot me in the head, find my sister’s body, take her out, and do whatever it takes to banish Nike from this plane.”

             
“That seems a bit rash,” Stella said with a slight, sardonic laugh.  “I’m just not sure you’re thinking straight.”

             
Mark opened his mouth to answer, but Ben beat him to it.  “I’m probably not,” he admitted.  He looked up, first at Mark, and then at the woman standing near him.  “I’m probably completely insane, but we’ve reached a critical point, and right now I’m going with my gut on this.  I’m going read Mark’s story, and then we’re going to try and figure out how to kill that Greek bitch once and for all.”

             
Letting himself smile just a bit, Mark put his arm on Stella’s but she wrenched away from him, glaring.  “If something happens to him, I’m holding you personally responsible.”

             
“As well you should,” Mark said a little sadly, trying to ignore the fear of the what-if.  Ben could be affected, he could be taken over, and Mark was afraid to lose yet another person in this war against the goddess.  But he saw Ben’s point, and he couldn’t come up with any reason to deny him this request.  “You need to go.”

             
Stella shook her head.  “No.  I’m going to stay in here with him just in case.”

             
“No,” Ben said.  “You’re going to leave me alone to read this, and when I’m done, we’ll talk.”

There was absolutely no room for argument, Ben made that clear.  With a last glare at Mark, Stella pressed a kiss to the side of Ben’s face and excused herself from the room, slamming the door behind her.  When they were finally alone, Ben opened the case and took out the stack of papers and tapped them to even the pages on the lid.

              “Just for the sake of asking, if this is going to affect me, how long will it take for the crazy to set in?” Ben asked.

             
“It has always varied.  The last time it happened, it was only a few sheets of paper.  They changed from paper to these plaques, his eyes started to glow and I knew almost instantly that I’d lost him.  That was two centuries ago, and the last time I ever dared write a word down.  I suppose, with writing this long, it may take until the last word, but I can’t be sure.”

             
“Would it be better if you stayed with me?”  Ben met Mark’s eyes with honest curiosity and a hint of trepidation as he fingered the bottom of the pages.

             
Mark shook his head and let out the breath he’d been holding.  “Perhaps, but I don’t think I can watch you.  As it is, I’m struggling to let you read them, and I think it’s best that you stay in the room alone until you’re finished.  I’ll be down the hall with Jude I think, waiting.  I’ll know when you’ve come to the end, I’ll be able to feel it, and I’ll check on you then.”

             
Ben hesitated and then, as Mark watched with surprise, Ben pulled his gun out from his holster and handed it over.  “Whether you want to or not, you may not have a choice.  If it takes me, if your curse takes me, use it.  We can’t let Nike win, and this may be exactly what she wanted.”

             
Mark nodded, hating that it may have come to this, but understanding exactly what he might have to do if Ben was affected.  He held the gun down at his side and moved toward the door, hesitant to leave, but knowing he had to do so.

             
“If you need anything.  If you feel anything alarming or different…”

             
“I’ll call for you,” Ben said with a wry grin and he let out a breath, “if I can.  Wish me luck.”

             
But Mark couldn’t do that, because this was beyond luck.  This was beyond prayer or well wishes, or church blessings.  If Ben walked away from this, it would be more than a miracle, and any doubt Mark had about whether or not Ben was special would be erased.  Only one person in Mark’s history had ever been strong enough to escape the pull of his words.

             
It was Mark’s greatest triumph and greatest tragedy.  The absolute love of his life and she’d been able to read what he’d written.  Unfortunately the damage had been done, and hours after the others had been affected, she’d been flayed alive and burned as the great Library of Alexandria burned.  Hypatia.  The most amazing woman, a genius in her own right, and she would have conquered the world with philosophy, beauty, reason and poetry.  But it was not to be.  His curse had taken her from him, and with it any hope that he could ever be truly happy.

             
Mark didn’t want to think about that now.  He couldn’t let himself.  He was terrified of what awaited Ben, and he needed to be close to Jude.  Jude, the only one who could possibly understand how any of this felt.  Finally leaving Ben to it, Mark walked down the hall almost silently to where Jude lay.

             
He was still in physical pain, he realized as he reached for the door handle, and he wished for a moment that Jude’s powers could touch him and take away the pain, but he supposed this was all part of the curse.  Pushing the door to the bedroom open, he walked in and in the dim light of the desk lamp, he saw Jude on the bed, his eyes open, chest rising and falling evenly with his breath.

             
Jude let out a little cough as he attempted to make his voice heard.  “Where are we?”

             
“Somewhere north; I’m not entirely sure,” Mark confessed.  He shut the door behind him and took a seat at the edge of Jude’s bed.  He looked better, the blood washed away from his face, and he’d started to get some of his color back.  Both men were in desperate need of a shower and restful sleep as they healed from the burns and the torture Nike had inflicted upon them.

             
But they were safe for now, and the little comforts of normal life could wait.  Mark glanced out the window and saw the sun dipping low into the western sky, to where the ocean met shore, though they were far from the coast.

             
“You’re letting him read it,” Jude said after a moment, his voice sounding stronger by the minute.

             
“I didn’t really have a choice,” Mark replied, still not looking away from the window.

             
“I suppose not.  He took a lot of power from me, more than any human has ever managed to.  Even that boy who took me to the compound could only steal little pieces here and there.  He’s going to be in danger if that woman ever finds out what he can do.”

             
“I know,” Mark breathed.  He rubbed his tender face with his hands, pleased to find that his skin was healing very nicely.  Even his eyebrows had almost grown completely back, which surprised him as his hair didn’t usually repair itself the way his skin could.  “I need you, Yehuda.  I hope you realize that.  I respect your apathy but I need you now.  I need your fight.  I can’t protect us alone anymore, and even with help, I’m fighting a losing battle.  I won’t let her take you again, but I’m not so sure I can stop her if she’s able to find us.”

             
Jude sat up on the bed, wincing at his still- stiff muscles, and he grimaced as he shifted to sit nearer to Mark.  He forced his arms into a stretch and groaned from the pain.  “Forgive me.  I never meant to cause harm like this.  I was just so tired.  I’m bombarded by their voices when I grow weak, and they’re so hurtful.  So angry and so lost, and it’s overwhelming.  I forget, sometimes, that I’m here for a reason.”

             
Mark gave a hollow laugh and shook his head.  “Two thousand years and we know we’re here for a reason, but we’re still lost.  Still without our own reason.  If only I could go mad, Yehuda.  I envy you so often.”

             
Jude chuckled and rose from the bed, stretching his body and shuffling around.  His movements were growing less stiff as time passed, and he paused at the window looking out over the hills.  “It’s beautiful here.  Too bad we can’t stay.”