The Edge Of The Cemetery (17 page)

When we entered the den Calvin was standing next to Pete. He didn't look nervous or worried…he actually looked quite relaxed. It's always nice when your psychopathic houseguest feels comfortable.

“Please have a seat, Mr. Brelong,” Aris said as he walked over to one of the sofas and sat. Calvin did as he was told while looking around the room. Billy had moved toward the corner, her arms firmly crossed under her breasts, her expression hard, almost callous. I walked over and sat near Aris. Pete stood behind Calvin's sofa, his pose similar to Billy's.

“I must admit, Mr. Brelong, your ability to portray yourself as a feeble-minded boy, lost in a world he does not understand, is quite impressive. However, it is no longer necessary. What is necessary is the location of Edgar and Mr. James.”

The green flash came, but so did a slight twinge of surprise. He asked, “What makes you think I know where either of them are?”

Aris angled his head and said, “Ah, you weren't aware of his plans to kidnap Mr. James, were you?” Calvin's eyes narrowed slightly and Aris continued. “I think I understand. Edgar is concerned, much like Vokkel had been, that you hadn't reached the proper maturity level to fulfill your destiny. You've been unable to accomplish your mission here, is that not correct?”

Calvin's eyes became slits, giving them a reptilian appearance. Aris kept going. “We are aware that you came to us with the intention of obtaining a particular journal that was in the possession of Mr. Vokkel. In addition, we are aware of the contents of said journal. It appears however, that you are not fully aware,” he gave Calvin a condescending smile, “of its contents.”

“Oh, I know exactly what's in it,” Calvin sneered.

“Ah,” Aris said disbelievingly. He arched an eyebrow lightly. “Based on the information we have gathered about you, I would not have thought such a selfishly impetuous young man as yourself would be willing to give up his life so easily.”

“What are you talking about?” Calvin's voice had a touch of concern to it.

“Your mother told us you were smart and manipulative. That indicates that you are also, most likely, quite selfish. I believe you went to Sam to confront him, and when he told you he would be turning you in to us, you killed him. But it was done without forethought, thus your attempt to have it appear as an accident.”

“Sam was a traitor, and an asshole. He was gonna ruin it all,” Calvin spat out.

“Yes, of course, he was going to do the right thing…I suppose that would appear traitorous to someone such as yourself. But let us get to the point of the matter. The true prophecy states 'that the cambion,' which is you…,” he pointed to Calvin, “ 'shall merge forever with his father and become one, upon which my ever faithful servant'—that is Gilles, by the way—'shall live once again.' There is only one way to interpret this part of the prophecy…Gilles will converge with your body and discard your mind and soul for the devil to deal with at his leisure. In essence, you shall die.”

He was baiting Calvin and I was enjoying every minute of it. Aris kept going. “You have been betrayed, by Mr. Vokkel, by Edgar, and most importantly, by Gilles. However, you are here, with us, and we have no intention of allowing this prophecy to come to fruition.”

“You're lying,” he hissed.

Aris stood, smoothed his pant legs, and said, “No, Mr. Brelong, I am not.” He turned to Pete and said, “I am sure the others have a few questions. When they are finished, please escort him to his room and post guards inside and out.” He turned and left the room.

I leaned forward. “So, he's right, I would like to clear some stuff up. Why'd you kill Leo? I mean, if you knew the part in the prophecy about when and where, you knew you couldn't converge Gilles yet.”

Calvin had regained his composure and said, “Leo could see the ghosts, he was just too stupid to know what to do about it. But he wasn't so stupid that he didn't realize Gilles was doing something to him, and he said he was going to tell my mom. She would've freaked out, and that was the last thing I needed.” He shrugged. “So we took care of him.” He grinned wickedly. I really hated this kid.

“Well, that clears that up. But I'm confused about these other attacks. What was the point?”

Another wicked grin. “In the beginning I was just having fun.” He winked. “I mean, Vokkel and Edgar kept me on a pretty tight leash, and I needed to see what I could do.” He laughed. “Edgar didn't even know Gilles and I were out playing; he was too busy hiding out and planning.”

“All right, so what changed? Why'd you try and kidnap Billy in Marin?”

He pointed. “Now that
was
mostly Edgar, although the killing part was all me.” The green flash intensified, sparked maliciously, and this time it didn't leave. “See, Edgar said we were going to need someone to perform the convergence for Gilles…I didn't lie about that part. So the plan was to attract your attention and take one of you, and like I said before, then the other would do what we wanted. But you guys were much stronger than I anticipated, and then Edgar found out you'd stolen the journals, so we came up with a new plan.” He smiled. “And you bought it, until now.”

Billy moved forward and placed her hands on the back of the couch, leaning a little closer in as she did so. “Calvin, I'm confused; who did you think we'd be converging Gilles into?”

Then it hit me, and I said, “You didn't know, but you thought it had to be Edgar. Oh hell, maybe Gilles told you it
would
be Edgar so you'd keep playing along, but you also realized that you couldn't do the convergence.” And with that I realized something else, something that terrified me. I took a breath and said, “I'm beginning to think you didn't know shit about this prophecy, so let me tell you exactly what it's about. The actual prophecy, the one you know nothing of, clearly states that the cambion shall sacrifice himself to his father, meaning you give
your
body to Gilles, and you just,” I threw my hands up, “poof, you go away. You told us that Edgar and Gilles have been chatting without you, so they probably hatched a plan to keep you in check, let you believe that Edgar would be Gilles's new body. And I'm thinking that you've been allowing Gilles into your head for so long, and with each visit, he's secretly breaking down any resistance, so when the time comes, he's going to get in your head one last time and kick you to the curb and take up full-time residency. He doesn't need us…only Edgar needs us for his revenge plan. But Gilles, he only needs you!”

Gilles was the ultimate demon. Everything about him screamed intense power, and that kind of power would surely be able to take over a kid like Calvin, especially a kid that the ultimate demon created just for this purpose.

My phone chirped with a text message, and a second later I heard two other alerts coming from Billy and Pete's phones. Calvin was staring off into space…I thought he was thinking through what I'd said. I pulled my phone out just as Pete and Billy did the same and checked the text; it was from Carol.

It's not here. I think Edgar must have found it, but I found something else, and if I'm right, he won't be able to read it. On my way back now.

Billy mumbled “shit” and I looked back at her, then over to Pete. He angled his head toward the door and said, “Go, I'll stay with him.” We both left the room and moved down the hallway, out of earshot from Calvin.

I said, “If Edgar has that journal, he only needs Calvin now.”

Billy nodded. “Yeah, I think we should talk to Aris and Pete about making a trade,” she said in a defeated tone.

“Billy, didn't you hear what I just said? Gilles doesn't need us to converge with Calvin, he's so damn strong he can do it himself!”

“You can't be sure of that.”

I grabbed her by the shoulders. I could tell by the look on her face that she knew I was right. “Aris said a demon that converged with one of us would have exponential power. Gilles converged with a man of God, who was a longaevus and a ghost killer. It's like a trifecta! He can do it on his own!”

She slumped. “What now?”

“Let's get this kid locked up and we'll go from there.” We walked back into the living room. Calvin was picking his nails and looked up as we entered.

“Bad news?” He had an unbearable smirk on his face and I wanted to rip him limb from limb. He moved to the edge of the couch, as if to stand, and said, “So this has all been fun, but it's time for me to go.” He rubbed his hands together. “Here's the plan…one of you will come with me and bring the journal, we'll go find Edgar, and once you've done what you're supposed to do, I'll let you and Phil go on your merry way.” He winked. I couldn't believe this kid; had he not heard a word we said?

I shook my head. “You're an idiot.” Turning to Pete, I said, “Lock him up.”

“With pleasure.” He grabbed Calvin under the arm and dragged him from the room. Billy and I went to the kitchen, where I assumed Aris was.

Aris was sitting at the table, drinking coffee, and looked up when we entered the room. I poured a cup for myself and Billy and joined them at the table. A minute later Pete came into the room.

I asked, “Is he secure…I mean, with just three people watching him?”

Pete nodded. “For now, but I think we should either move him or call in more reinforcements.” Aris agreed with a nod.

Suddenly the house shook as several loud crashing noises from above rattled the walls, followed by a tortured masculine scream and what sounded like someone being thrown down the stairs. Pete turned and ran to the front of the house, with the rest of us in his wake.

When we reached the staircase, a body was heaped face down on the landing. Only he wasn't really face down…his neck had been twisted so viciously that the head was now backwards, staring at us with dead eyes. It was Jonas.

I looked up. Calvin stood on the stairs between the first landing and the second floor. His green eyes had darkened…the color reminded me of Vokkel's house, that Charleston green, so dark it was almost black. The irises were expanding into the white, and then that was all, this dark malicious green. He looked haunted, and then I saw it…not an aura so much as a silhouette surrounding him; another form, that of Gilles, the alive and the dead, now enmeshed together. Was this what it looked like when a ghost killer was possessed by a demon? It wasn't like this with normal people…the demons stood in their wake, but with Calvin, with Gilles, they'd almost become one.

Calvin and Gilles grinned together and raised their hands, summoning. The air shimmered, hummed, and sizzled, and I knew what was happening…it had happened before, when Vokkel summoned his surge of demons to kill Billy and me in the garage on Bush Street.

Behind Calvin, heaped on the upper landing, Eric groaned…at least he was alive. Dave stumbled into view at the top of the stairs. A large gash ran across his forehead, and his face was covered in blood. He grabbed the banister to steady himself, then, realizing what was happening, launched himself at Calvin. But Calvin wasn't a gangly teenage boy anymore; he was the possessed and invincible monster Aris had warned us about. Without looking, Calvin simply swatted Dave away and leapt down the stairs, over the railing, and into the library.

The hallway was now filled with demons. I could barely see through them…they grabbed at us, trying to zap us with their electroplasmic juice, and for a fleeting moment I thought maybe they were drawing on Gilles's strength; they were that powerful. I stabbed without thinking, taking a jolt each time, but somehow managing to push through to the library.

When I entered the room, Calvin was pulling the journals off the desk, one by one, flipping through them quickly and tossing them aside viciously. He turned abruptly, the most evil, ghoulish scowl on his lips, and screamed in a voice that wasn't all his. “WHERE ARE THEY?!”

I stopped. The jolts of demon juice I'd received had jarred me, my breath was ragged, and blood pounded in my ears, but I could still hear the sound of furniture breaking and pain-filled screaming from the hallway. I hesitated, not sure what to do…fight Calvin or help save my friends? He made the decision for both of us…he lunged. He was incredibly fast, and his formerly adolescent-strength hands were around my neck and squeezing like a vice before I could react. I kneed him in the balls. Demon or not, it hurt him and he went down, letting go of my throat. Unfortunately, he also recovered quickly, jumped up, and ran back into the hallway and out the front door. I did my best to follow, but he was so incredibly fast and I was having trouble breathing, not just from the demons' jolts, but from Calvin's assault on my trachea. Before I made it to the curb, he'd crossed the street and was entering the park at the intersection of Lincoln Way and 41
^st
Avenue, headed towards Martin Luther King Jr. Drive and a very thick mini-forest within the park. If he got to those trees I'd probably lose him. Mustering up everything I had, I ran. It felt like I was breaking the speed barrier, but he was still faster, and by the time I got to the trees, he was gone.

I searched for ten minutes, but I knew it was useless. I headed back to the house, hoping that the others had managed to tackle the demon storm I'd left behind.

The front hall was torn apart; the artwork hung askew, a small table was reduced to kindling, and the runner was bunched up at the end of the hall leading to the kitchen. There was a head-sized hole in the plaster at the top of the stairs where I'd last seen Eric. Aris was on his phone; his suit jacket was gone and his crisp white shirt was torn and scorched in places. Pete was helping Eric down the stairs, plaster dust covering his head and shirt. Dave was sitting on the step, holding his hand to his head, blood oozing between his fingers. There was no sign of Billy and I started to panic; then she came through the kitchen door holding a first aid kit and a blanket. I sighed in relief. She handed me the blanket and pointed to Jonas's mangled body. I could feel tears of frustration, anger, and sadness building, and I didn't think I'd be able to stop them—Jonas was dead, the kid got away, Edgar had the journal, and we had no idea where he was holding Phil. I realized we'd probably never see him alive again. I covered Jonas up and walked back into the library and tried to compose myself.

A few minutes later I heard the roar of Carol's bike and walked back out to the hallway. Eric was holding an icepack to his head, but he looked otherwise unharmed. Billy had bandaged Dave's wound and was helping him clean the blood off his face. Pete was at the front door, talking to his men that had been on guard on the street. I hadn't seen them when I went out or came in, but I assumed they must have seen us run into the park. Pete and Carol came into the house and after he explained what had happened, she exhaled an expletive in response.

Pete looked down the hall to Aris. “They saw which way he went, but I called them back. I'm not risking any more lives.” Aris nodded.

Carol looked around and settled on Eric and Dave. They were sitting side by side on the step. “You two okay?” They nodded. Liars…none of us were okay.

Aris headed to the kitchen and we all followed, taking seats at the table. Billy went to the fridge and pulled out several beers, handing them to each of us. Now really wasn't the time to imbibe, but they'd help slow down the raging adrenaline.

Carol said, “Okay, listen.” She pulled two rolled-up pieces of paper from her jacket and spread them open. They were about eleven by sixteen inches each and crumpled, as if they'd been balled up. “Phil must have copied and enlarged the drawings in the journal. I found these on the floor next to his trashcan. I'm thinking Edgar starts to bust the door down and Phil realizes what's happening and balls them up and tosses them, in the hopes that whoever is coming in won't notice them.” Everyone appeared to agree with that theory, and leaned in to take a closer look. I had no idea what I was seeing though. They resembled nothing as far as I could tell. The images were a half circular pattern that took up most of the page, with the exception of the upper center portion, which was blank.

Carol pulled a shiny stainless steel cup from her pocket. “This was on the floor too, and I think he was trying to use it to read the drawings.” She looked up. “The reflective eye.” She placed it on the clear semi-circular section at the top of one of the papers and motioned us to gather around her. “Look at the cup straight on.” This required us to hunch down to counter level, and we each did it in turn. The image developed into something, but it still wasn't quite clear.

“I know, it's not right. But I remembered something else Boyd had translated. Aaron wrote that God had him create the two drawings, but he also had him carve a special key. So I think somewhere out there is a reflective cylinder with etchings on it, and when you pair it with these, it reveals the location of the chamber and the order of the combination.”

Eric dejectedly said, “I'm guessing Boyd was right and that's what was chiseled out of the walls of St. Mary's tower, and since Vokkel wrote that he'd found the chamber,” he pointed at the drawings, “he must have had that cylinder and now I guess Edgar has it. Which means, if Calvin catches up with him, he's got everything he needs.”

Considering I was still riding an emotional roller coaster and not thinking anywhere near straight, I was surprised at how bright and furious the light bulb moment was that suddenly hit me. I smiled and said, “He doesn't have it!” Pulling my phone out, I dialed Julie Vokkel. She answered on the second ring and I put her on speaker.

“Hi Julie, its George. I've got you on speaker…is that okay?”

“I suppose.” She sounded hesitant.

“Sorry, I just don't want to repeat myself after we hang up. Is everything okay? Has Edgar contacted you?”

“Not yet. You don't sound well…is everything all right?”

“No, Edgar kidnapped our friend and we've had…some trouble on top of that.”

There was panic in her tone when she asked, “Billy and Justine?”

I looked over at Billy; she looked utterly confused at the concern in her mother's voice. “They're fine. Listen, Edgar is about to realize, if he hasn't already, that there's something in the house he desperately needs. Remember that silver thing I was looking at this morning?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I need that, but so does he, and he might be watching the house at this point, so I need a distraction so we can extract it.”

“Hmm,” she paused a moment. “I have an idea. Who do you want me to give it to?”

I looked at Pete and he mouthed the name Morris. “Not sure if introductions were made, but one of the guys we sent over is named Morris.”

“Oh yes, actually he's standing right here. He hasn't left my side since he arrived.”

“Great. Can you give it to him and tell him Pete will be calling?” As if on cue, I heard a phone ring in the background and looked at Pete, who was, not coincidentally, on his phone.

“What's your idea?”

“Father has an elaborate alarm system for both police and fire. I'm going to trigger the fire alarm. This is Pacific Heights…the response will be immediate, and there will be swarms and swarms of responders. The confusion will be enormous, and Morris can make his escape then.” I could hear the amusement in her voice.

“That's actually a great idea, but I need you to remain safe, protected from Edgar if he's in the vicinity.”

“Don't worry. I'll be sure my guards and your guards keep me surrounded until the mayhem dies down and we can lock ourselves back in the house.”

“Thanks, Julie. We'll be in touch later…keep your phone with you and stay safe.” I hung up.

Billy had folded her arms across her chest and was eyeing me suspiciously. I knew what she wanted to know, but now wasn't the time. Instead, I said, “Julie told me that Vokkel never let anyone see the journals, including Edgar, but she was sure he discussed them with Edgar, and if they found the chamber, I'm guessing he would have sent Edgar to check it out, so he would have told him where it was. But if he never saw the journals, or the drawings, he wouldn't know you need something special to read them. But he's not stupid, so I think we should assume he's going to figure it out quickly. I saw this etched, but badly tarnished, silver cylinder on Vokkel's bookcase this morning, and asked Julie about it. She said Vokkel told her it was some artifact that was used to read magic spells. And I'm guessing Edgar will come to, or already has come to, the same conclusion I just did.”