Heaven's Prisoners, Page 4

  It’s not alcoholism, that shit is fucking medicinal.

  The motion of the car changed signaling it slowed down and with a small jolt, it stopped. I didn’t know where we were, but I didn’t think it was too far away from Fort Collins. More time could’ve passed than I realized, but then I’ve been wrong before.

  Bennett’s voice rang out in the silence. “We are here, Mr. MacCaren. Markus, let the others know we’ve arrived and Mr. MacCaren will join them soon.”

  A door opened letting the coolness of the morning in. “Yes, Mr. Bennett.”

  It seems Markus has a master after all. I found it odd that a human held his leash, but then, nothing surprises me anymore. In time, we all serve someone. Even a master is a slave to something.

  My door opened, and a pair of hands grabbed me. “Shall we, Mr. MacCaren?”

  I allowed the hands to guide me. “Not like I have a say in the matter, but if given a choice, no.”

  “No, you don’t, but it isn’t bad. A meeting with others and nothing more.”

  Bennett grabbed me and led me to wherever we were going. I only heard our footsteps. A door creaked open, and he ushered me in before it closed. The air changed. Jasmine with the underlying scent of cleaning products drifted in the air.

  A hand grabbed the hood and pulled it off my head. I blinked a little to get used to the light and thanked the heavens; someone kept the light in the hallway. Behind me stood the doors I could only assume we came in from and to my sides, the hallway. Mr. Bennett stood in front of me, a warm smile on his lips.

  “Welcome to our sanctuary, Mr. MacCaren. I hope you find peace and purpose here.”

  I raised an eyebrow and frowned. “This isn’t a church.”

  Bennett turned away and walked. “Not in the traditional sense. Come with me.”

  I followed, my curiosity peaked. “I still have my gun.”

  “That you do. The ones you’ll meet soon know how imperative it is for you to keep your gun. They’ll not harm you.”

  I passed a painting of St. Peter as the first Pope. “Forgive me if I don’t trust you or them. This place is quiet.”

  “Like I said, it’s a sanctuary for your kind.”

  “My kind?”

  Bennett stopped at a set of large doors and gestured to it. “Yes, a Nephilim. Inside, the council awaits. Walk to the center and stand. Time is of the essence, Mr. MacCaren.”

  He walked away leaving me alone. I turned the safety off my gun and stuck it back in the holster. If a fight broke out, I’d prepare myself as best as possible. I gripped the handles of the doors and turned them, letting the doors swing wide.

  “Fuck me; this isn’t what I was expecting.”

  A voice from the opposite end of the room rang out. “And what were you expecting, Mr. MacCaren?”

  “Not this.”

  The room loomed before me with a high ceiling showcasing a spectacular chandelier from its center. Its marble tile with veins of gold decorated the floor and spread out from wall to wall. Twelve chairs, or should I say small ornate thrones stood in a large circle in the room.

  I strode over, and the eyes of the chairs’ occupants watched me in keen interest. Each person appeared a good seventy plus years of age and dressed impeccably. The circle of chairs closed with an even larger one. An even older man sat at this one, along with a familiar face, Markus.

  Stopping in the center, I stood. Who says I can’t follow direction? “So what do we do now?”

  The ancient man in the larger throne smiled. “We talk.”

  “Oh goodie. Make it quick as I have places to go and a case to solve.”

  “We know, and we’d never keep you from visiting family or the good work you do.”

  “So, who are you guys? Y’all look like board members for a big corporation.”

  “We are, in a way. Often, history refers to us as The Fallen.”

  “The Fallen? Are you kidding me?”

  “No, I’m not. You know them as The Watchers and Nephilim.”

  My heart raced at those words. I knew I wouldn’t be the only one, but faced with this truth made things all too real. “Aren’t The Watchers in a prison of darkness under a mountain?”

  “Some are, yes, others are not. Their children, like you, walk this world, shaping it into what their angelic fathers wish it to be.”

  “Okay, New World Order creepy shit aside; what does this have to do with me?”

  “You, Rian, are Nephilim. One of us.”

  I looked around at the old men and women sitting and smiling at me. Like Daniel in the lion’s den, I expected them to pounce on me and tear my flesh from my bones. I didn’t return the smiles or fake any warmness. Conspiracy theorists worldwide would lose their shit over this!

  “You’re all half-angel?”

  The old man shrugged and shook his head no. “We do share in the bloodline of angels but not as much as you. Your father was a Watcher like our ancestors.”

  I crossed my arms and stared at the old man down. At least I tried to. That fucker creeped me out. “Okay still doesn’t explain what a cabal of rich old people want with me let alone Watchers and Nephilim.”

  “Times are changing, Rian. It is time for the Nephilim to rise and take what is theirs. To do that, we need others like ourselves. You are the last piece of the puzzle.”

  “The ever classical world domination trope. I’ll pass. I was never good at puzzles. Never quite fit.”

  “Don’t make a bad choice, Rian.” Markus straightened up from leaning against the old man’s throne.

  “Wouldn’t be the first or last but I don’t buy into all this nonsense. You honestly expect me to join this cause?”

  The old man stood, followed by the others. “Others have defied us and then joined us later. You’ll see what we can do for you in time. Your power is great, and you’re wasting it on petty cases that barely get you by.”

  I glanced around grinning. “Money ain’t everything.”

  Walking over to one of the chairs, I pulled it away and sat down on it casually. This should get them riled up. “Would I get one of these?”

  “Watch what you do and say, Mr. MacCaren. Don’t trifle with The Fallen or us.”

  I leaped to my feet and strode over to the old man, Markus moved in between us, blocking my way. “I don’t want to deal with any of this. Take me back, now.”

  The old man leaned back, his hands clasped in front of his face in contemplation. “Your choice, Rian.”

  I turned to walk away; his voice cut me off. “We’ll give you time to change your mind.”

  Glancing back, I snickered. “Don’t hold your breath.”

  “Shall I stop him?” Markus’ voice boomed.

  “No. We’ll honor the rules of The Watchers as we always do.”

  I strode toward the large doors. They opened revealing Mr. Bennett. “Take me home.”

  Bennett gestured and walked down the hall. “Of course, Mr. MacCaren. We moved your car to your apartment and avoided any unnecessary parking tickets. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Does it matter at this point? Did you guys fill her up? Gas is expensive.”

  Bennett opened the door and let me walk outside. “No, I guess not. Rest assured we didn’t bug or gas up your car.”

  I stopped at the SUV and turned. “No hood?”

  “We feel you may want to come back and must do so on your own. They gave you a choice. Free will, after all, is imperative to what we do.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  I glanced around and saw the mountains on the western horizon. Traffic buzzed in my ears and knew the highway was closed. If I had to guess, this place was north of Denver about thirty minutes. Mr. Bennett opened the SUV door, and we both got in. In moments the driver pulled out and had us on our way.

  I slouched in the seat before reaching behind me. The gun’s safety still off, I clicked it on. “Now what?”

  “You can visit your mother if you choose and solve the case as you planned. We a
re patient with centuries of waiting behind us. We’ll contact you or wait for you to come to us.”

  “Yeah. Somehow I see you all pressing the issue.”

  Mr. Bennett smiled and stayed silent for the rest of the trip and shuffled through papers. I memorized the route out in case I needed it. Not once did the sigils on my wrists burn with these people and it bothered me. Nothing good lived in these guys yet I received no warning from the marks.

  Now Markus returned to the scene and still hated me. I couldn’t blame him as I killed his sister in a club a few months ago. She was a part succubus, and both tried raping me with their powers and stealing my lifeforce. She got a bullet in the face, and Markus got away vowing revenge. Now, this...

  Things can’t get worse...

  Chapter Six

  As soon as I strode through the door, the Grayson’s phone rang. No number appeared, only ‘Private Number’ flashed on the smartphone's display. I let it ring not knowing if a friend of the family called or the kidnapper. The latter was awkward enough along with horrifying.

  I set the phone down and waited. It didn’t ring again or even go to voicemail. If it did, I wouldn't know the passcode to get into their messages. Relief washed over me as no more alerts popped up — an odd thing to get relieved over, Rian.

  A weight pressed against me and a furry, insistent nudge against my hand stole my attention. Jezebel, my German Shepard, sat on the floor at my feet, her tail wagging in excitement at my arrival home. I adopted her a week after my run-in with Markus a few months ago.

  I knelt and hugged her. “How’s my baby girl? Did you miss me, Jez?”

  She barked and leapt backward. Upon landing, she chased her tail before running back over to me almost knocking me over. Her tongue hit my face, making me grimace, but who would deny a dog’s affection?

  I rubbed her ears, and she groaned in pleasure. “Who’s a hungry girl?”

  Her attention caught, she leapt up again, barking, before tearing off into the kitchen. It was the least used room in my apartment. Between takeout and coffee, I never really cooked. The day I got my dog, I decided homemade dog food was best. I even ate more at home. It’s amazing how having a dog can turn one’s life around, even if a little.

  Opening the refrigerator door, I pulled out a large sealed container that contained Jezebel’s food. I leaned down to grab her dish, and she barked with more excitement. Sometimes I think her tail never stopped wagging. At half a year old, she hadn’t reached full height. Her appetite did.

  I grabbed a wooden spoon and scooped some chicken and rice mix into her bowl. “Okay, okay, it’s coming. Calm down, crazy girl.”

  She barked and spun a few times. “Of all the people in my life, you’re the only one that gets this excited over something I do.”

  I set the food bowl in front of her and watched her devour the food. My vet told me to add some liver and a few vegetables to it, which I did. Jezebel was a healthy dog, and her energy was off the charts.

  “Looks like you haven’t torn anything up today.”

  She didn’t even respond as the food had her attention. It didn’t matter. I was glad my couch stood in one piece. Jezebel was a chewer, and with her jaws, nothing was safe. It took a few months to get her to stop chewing on everything, but I feared the day I’d have to go out in public and buy a new couch in case she tore the current one apart.

  It had a few pieces missing, but nothing too bad. I grabbed the bottle of whiskey from the counter and took a swig. After putting it down, I looked for the lid and realized that disappeared a while ago.

  The window in my kitchen looked out over the old town, Fort Collins. The location couldn’t get better, but the rent was high as fuck, and I’d need a bigger place. My apartment wasn’t small, but having a large working dog made it seem small. On the plus side, she made a great running partner. She loved that to no end especially if a squirrel caught her attention. Those days weren’t so good for me as I usually got dragged after it as well. It’s time to look into a trainer. Not so much for you, but me.

  A beep caught my attention. It didn’t come from my phone. I walked over and picked it up. A small green light alerted me something did indeed come through. Hitting the button, the screen flashed on. I was right, a text message.

  I hit the message with my thumb opening it up. “If this is something else, I’ll apologize to the Grayson’s even though I doubt they’ll care. Mother fucker.”

  A link appeared. Similar to the others, my heart raced as I tapped the link, opening the browser. A stab of fear hit me like a sliver of ice as the video feed of Jacob in the coffin appeared on my screen.

  My eyes watered as I heard the whimpering coming from the speaker on the phone. He beat weakly against the lid. “Help me, please. Dear God, help me, please. Can anyone hear me? Mommy, help me.”

  I forced myself to watch the video. “Sweet Jesus, what kind of bastard would do this? I’ll find you soon, Jacob, just hold on.”

  Whatever video camera the perp used, it had low-light capabilities. Jacob stopped hitting the lid and looked around. “Who’s there? Help me, please!” He screamed in terror.

  He heard me. Whoever did this wasn’t just toying with me or the Grayson’s, but Jacob as well. The video cut out, but the feed stayed live. The words ‘video not available’ flashed on the screen, but I could still hear Jacob’s cries.

  A deep voice boomed through the speaker. “Time is short, Rian. The oxygen I have going to his grave won’t last forever. Remember, Rian, no police or the kid dies.”

  The link went dead, and anger rose up inside me. My face flushed and a small whine from Jezebel didn’t help. She followed me from the kitchen and heard the whole thing. Jezebel pawed at my leg and whined again. I looked down and saw her ears laid back and a sad expression on her face. I knew some dogs were smart, but for some reason, this one stood out more.

  I reached down and petted her. “Don’t worry, girl. I’ll find him, and everything will be okay. The bad guy won’t be.”

  She barked and wagged her tail, but still seemed bothered. My phone rang. I jumped a little. Damn, this got me spooked. I need to calm the fuck down. “Hello?”

  A deep, baritone voice from the other end echoed in my ear. “Rian, this is Axle.”

  Please, let this be a good sign. “Axle, what have you found out, if anything? Time is growing short. The kidnapper sent another message threatening to cut off Jacob’s air.”

  “Son of a bitch, I got some, but not enough.”

  “It gets worse, Axle. The audio feed operated both ways this time. Jacob heard me. He’s not doing good, man. We’re being fucked with, and I think the kidnapper is enjoying this.”

  “I’m sorry, Rian, but you’re probably right. I got the car towed and went over myself to check the vehicle out.”

  I sat against the wall and Jezebel lay down against me wanting attention. “What did you find?” I ran my hand through her fur. Soft. “Please tell me you found something? I need a break in this case.”

  A sigh echoed from the speaker. “I found a piece of paper with an eight-pointed star and a fingerprint, index finger; I’m thinking right hand.”

  I sat up; the dog lay there not caring. “Contractor. I figured it was. Who else would bury someone alive to only have me find them?”

  “Rian, we haven’t found him yet, but if it involves you, I've concluded it involves the other side and those dealing in it...”

  I rubbed the bridge of my nose and eyes. “Yeah, I know. I live in a world of supernatural fuckery. Who does the fingerprint belong to?”

  “It’s running through the database, but it’s a slow process as the need to keep this quiet is holding a lot of resources back. Everything I’m doing could speed up if I had more people and didn’t have to hide my activities.”

  “I know, Axle, but this kid’s life is in danger and mine may be as well if the contractor found out.”

  “I’ll do what I can.”

  “Okay, Axle.”


  I hung up. We didn’t worry about goodbyes. He had work to do, and so did I. A contractor entered the picture. Deep down I knew it would, but hoped the monster was a regular human.

  People were ugly at times. Some petitioned fallen angels or demons for special things. Usually, it was riches, fame, strength, or some odd shit like that. They signed a written contract to receive those prizes. Hence the term, contractors. Even the paranormal involves lawyers. Each contract was different, but they all involved murder at one point or another. There’s always a price, and eternal damnation was one of many.

  At least I knew what brought this about; now I needed to find out who. Tarot cards would get me nowhere, but I knew who will. Raiza Malone. If anyone knew anything in this town, it’d be her.

  Chapter Seven

  The club known as Baby J’s had a specific clientele known for their shady dealings in the supernatural. All walks of life and unlife frequented the club, and even normals found their way into the building either knowing or not, what awaited them. I’ve been here enough and knew what I’d get into, at least most of the time.

  The parking lot of the club stood out as a stark contrast to the club. Half the pavement baked and cracked in the heat and the outlying bushes did nothing to dispel worries of a possible mugging or at least a knife wound. Raiza Malone, the club’s owner, took care of her guests no matter what side of the life spectrum they were on or if they’re human or not.

  As a member of The People or the Seelie Court, Raiza kept a strong hold on her property and had certain practicality in the way she handled her business. Owning a strip-club may have been a legit business, but as Raiza put it one day to me, ‘Sometimes you have to break a few rules to help others in need.’

  I didn’t know who was in need or if the need was legal, but I also didn’t ask. She heard everything that went on in town, and after my last dealing with her, I knew better to question her sources or motives. The Seelie Court may claim the side of good in fairy tales and other writings, but in real life, they took a more gray area.