The Gateway Through Which They Came (31 page)

Clearing away my thoughts, I wrap my shaking hands around the arms of the chair and study the folder now resting in front of Father Martin. There will come a time to ask for the truth about Julie, but now isn’t it.

“Aiden,” Father Martin finally says, my name sharp on his tongue, “my fellow brothers and I have discovered the Dark Priest is someone among us. It is dire that we discover the new identity of this man. He has many faces and many powers. Powers that are beyond our understanding. If we don’t find him before he unleashes the Order, the world will become utter chaos.”

“How do we find him?” My grip tightens with anticipation.

With careful hands, he opens the folder and removes the cracked and faded papers within. The way they’re yellowed and torn, I worry that if I touch them wrong they’ll crumble to dust. As he sifts through, I notice some are pictures and newspaper clippings, others seemingly torn from a journal with scribbled writing. The penmanship is similar to that inside the
Brethren of Shadows
.

When he finds what he’s looking for, he pushes a pile of papers toward me. “Records have been kept from the Middle Ages and before, and in order for us to understand, we must familiarize ourselves with who he is. What he’s capable of.”

When he says
we
, I know he means me.

He watches as I thumb through the papers, unsure of what it is I’m looking for. I picture these records coming from a hidden library somewhere, into which only the brotherhood he speaks of is allowed.

Each page tells a story, an eyewitness account of what occurred hundreds of years ago. This much I knew already; his reign has plagued this world all that time. Even though the Dark Priest had been cast out of this realm, his followers still remained true to his word. I didn’t have to see a journal entry to know they went into hiding. If Koren’s family believed in him all this time, how many others were out there? The number is too big for me to even imagine.

“You asked to be a part of this, Aiden. I hope you’re ready to face the true nature of what you are.” He goes still, the pain on his face evident. After all, I’m like a son to him. A real son. No parent wants to send their child off to war. “I never wanted you to know about this side of your gift, son, but I fear we may have no other choice.”

I nod in understanding, but the words I should speak are nonexistent. I want to say something to assure him I can do this, that I can handle the responsibility he’s given me. But I’m in this too deep. My gift is nothing like what I’ve come to understand.

When the words refuse to form, I bow my head and close my eyes, my chin meeting my chest.

“Lord help us all,” he says.

Amen.

walk into my bedroom after another nightmare of a day, when my phone rings.

“No word from Koren?” Trevor says through the phone receiver.

“None.” I can’t hide the disappointment in my voice. Where can she be?

I’ve put so much hope into believing someone would know something. Coming up empty-handed isn’t an option. Koren didn’t leave me with much, and it infuriates me to no end. I wish for once something would be easy.

“What do you want to do?” I can hear Trevor chewing on the other end, the constant smack of his lips driving me more and more crazy.

“Keep looking,” I tell him. There is no other option.

“Evan’s been shmoozing some of the girls at school. He’s hoping one of them will know something.” He doesn’t sound too impressed with the idea.

“Yeah, I’m sure he’s doing this for the good of humanity,” I scoff.

Trevor does the same. “Well, he has your best interests at heart, I’m certain.”

“Just make sure he doesn’t get too distracted. We need to find her, Trevor.” My voice barely gets out those last words.

Trevor is on to me, like he always is. “We will, man. I swear it.”

With his word, our conversation ends. After I say goodbye, I meet my mom downstairs to offer help with dinner. My life may be crumbling around me, but I have to hold on to any sense of normalcy I can possibly grasp.

Mom switches on the oven light, glancing at the four pieces of chicken that make my mouth water the instant the aroma hits my nose. A bowl of mashed potatoes sits beside the stove top, ready to serve. Dinner is practically ready without my assistance, but I try anyway.

“Can I help with anything?”

She picks up the cherry red towel next to the sink and wipes her hands. “Help? Since when did you take an interest in cooking?”

The veggie steamer dings on the counter beside me. “I just thought I’d offer,” I say as I grab a big serving bowl from the cabinet and begin filling it with green beans.

“What’s troubling you, Aiden? I may be old, but I’m not blind.” Mom takes the bowl of veggies and places it on the table.

I’m one step ahead of her when I gather the utensils and plates, setting them on top of the table. It’s been too long since the last time I did this.

“I’ve had a lot on my mind, Mom. With school and… everything that happened. I didn’t mean for things to go that far.”

The clank of the plates against the wooden table top fills the room, as Mom removes the chicken from the oven. “I don’t believe you meant to harm anyone. What you did was unacceptable. But I know you, Aiden. Whatever you did, it wasn’t you.”

If she only knew how right she was about that.

With the platter of chicken in hand, she leads me to the table.

I lower my head as she says grace, but can’t keep from thinking how differently she would react if she knew what was happening to me. She’s so calm and unknowing about the shit storm that has taken over my life.

We eat in silence. Each time my fork scrapes against the plate, I cringe as the unbearable squeal interrupts the serenity of her presence. Each bite is heavy and difficult to swallow. It’s a miracle I can get anything down at all. Before I excuse myself, there’s something I need to know. Something I’ve been meaning to ask.

“Mom?” She dabs a napkin across her lips, giving me her full attention. I inhale deep. “What do you see in Koren that makes you dislike her so much?”

She keeps her composure, though she’s silent as if considering the answer. “It’s not her so much as her family. I’ve known her parents since I was a teen, as you know.”

I nod.

“It’s just,” she sighs, “they changed, Aiden. Drastically. They went from people I loved and cared for to reserved and cold. This feeling in my gut… it doesn’t sit right with them. Not anymore.”

I see now what she saw in them then. To me, as strange as it was that they’d disconnected themselves from everyone, I still would never have known it went this far. But my mom must be more perceptive than I give her credit for. She’s known before anyone else that something was amiss.

I wish I would have done something, anything to stop them from hurting Koren. To stop whoever poisoned their minds into thinking what they did was right. If only I had paid more attention.

Mom reaches across the table, her hand over mine. “I was wrong to take it out on her, Aiden. A child shouldn’t be blamed for what their parents say or do. And I believe you’ll do what’s right. She needs you,” she says.

I’ve been waiting so long for my mom to say those words, but time has a funny way of kicking me in the face.

I thumb through the files Father Martin sent home with me. There are page after page of journal entries and newspaper articles on strange happenings over time. Old photographs of the dead thrown into ditches. People wearing white masks as they walked the streets. The images are horrendous and a shocking reminder of what’s to come.

When I can’t look at them any longer, I stumble upon a page with faded handwriting that reads:

June 12th, 1866

The Dark Priest warns that trouble is near. Men of Light have infiltrated our city and have sought us out. As his brother, I take on the burden of sacrificing myself for the cause. I never wished for this. If only I had known what would become of him after sustaining so much power, if only I had what it takes to stop him. It is too late for me, for all of us. I am bound to him, we all are.

If he should find the answer to bring back the dark force that guides him, may God have mercy on our souls.

L. E. R.

Behind this old parchment is a photograph that looks more like a sketch. I’m amazed at how preserved the image is, considering. Two men, slim and tall, stand beside each other in black cloaks. The hood near their hairline exposes their broad cheekbones, and hollow eyes shadowed harshly by the sepia tone of the photograph. Their vacant stares are similar in more ways than one, hauntingly so. Both expressions are stern and set with power, but only one of them truly sends chills down my spine. Underneath the man whose glare stabs into me like ice picks is the name:
Jeremiah Harold Raimi.

To the left of Jeremiah is his brother
Lucius Ezekiel Raimi.

I read over their names a dozen times until it clicks.
J. H. R.
The initials circled by Koren on the marble slab in the cemetery. This is the face of the Dark Priest who sent the Bleeder to infect me. Seeing him brings back a memory of something I’ve wanted badly to forget. The image Redhead shared with me on a night that seems so far away. The night my entire world fell out from under me. Seeing his face is enough to send my blood boiling with rage.

Even from the withered photograph, remorse is apparent on Lucius’s face. Regret for everything he’d done to help his brother become a monster. Or maybe that’s just what I see in him after reading his words.

An itch at the back of my neck won’t let up. There’s something about Lucius that seems so familiar. It’s not until I finally look past the cracks and yellowed obstructions along the image that I finally see it.

The face of Father Raimi staring back at me.