Destiny's Wrath (Destiny Series - Book 3) Page 5

  The day the Council, with Renny, showed up at the house to kill Max, Dakota arrived out of nowhere. She brought with her a new host for Samael. A willing host, Jimmy Jacobs was a kid who wanted a demon inside him. At the time it seemed like a great solution, the only way out of the nightmare. The whole Cabinet showed up with her and escorted Jimmy away. Since that day, Max and I have had months of bliss.

  Every now and again, conversations migrated to Samael, but more as a mechanism to cope with the situation, to talk through the fact that he no longer had a hold on either of us. We had, in all earnestness, gotten on with our lives.

  Staring at the newspaper in my hands, I wondered what could have been done differently. If Samael had remained in Max, we would both surely be dead: maybe by Samael’s hand, maybe by the Council’s. I watched Max stand up and absently walk into another room. I could hear him pick up the phone and dial.

  Max’s voice echoed down the hallway, “Hi, Dakota?” My heart sank. “It’s Max, Max Meyer. Have you seen the paper today?” There was a long pause. Max re-entered the room and turned on a news channel with a special report being broadcast. He sounded full of remorse, “This is my fault. I told you I didn’t care what happened. It’s my fault those nine people are dead.” More silence. I could see the turmoil in Max; I wanted to reach out to him, but I stayed planted on the sofa. I could only hear his half of the conversation, but I felt my world beginning to crumble in front of me.

  Max held the phone away from his ear and looked at it: Dakota must have hung up on him. Max turned to me, his eyes full of grief, “What a bitch! She says there’s nothing we can do for the kid. She said he knew the repercussions when he agreed to let Samael in.”

  Mortified by her dismissal of the situation, I nearly shouted, “Repercussions? How could the kid possibly know the repercussions?”

  I knew what I needed to do. I hadn’t used my “power-of-sight” in months, but I could look in on Jimmy right now. I pulled myself off the couch and made my way to the bedroom. As I lay there looking at the ceiling, I began to question this plan. Maybe I would be better off trying to contact Renny? But I had broken all contact with her, severed whatever ties the two of us had the day Samael had been exorcised from Max. I could hire a lawyer for the kid, maybe a doctor – heck maybe even a priest. As I lay on the bed, I dismissed each one of these options right now. The only thing I knew was I couldn’t lie here pretending it didn’t happen.

  As I lay there arguing with myself, I remember Renny once told me I had the power to change peoples’ destinies. I never asked how it worked; at the time I was just floored with the knowledge. Somehow lives were mapped out well before people were born. This kid, Jimmy, hadn’t been destined to have a demon set up house inside him; that was a choice he’d made. His destiny had to be something else. I was pretty sure I couldn’t go back in time and change things, but I should be able to modify someone’s path; at least, that’s what Renny had told me.

  But how? I couldn’t just will a new destiny for someone, could I? I couldn’t simply “wish” the nine people back to life. They were gone forever. I closed my eyes and tried to picture that kid’s face again, tried to imagine the sense of dread from that day all those months ago. That day I had been so overwhelmed by the danger all around me, that I felt nothing but relief when the “host” showed up at the front door. Then it came, my “power-of-sight” tunnel appeared. It looked a lot like the concourse in the Detroit airport, a tunnel with bright lights all around the sides of the tunnel with an invisible end. I visualized Jimmy in my head and stepped into my awaiting tunnel.

  I was transported to a jail cell. The kid was wearing an orange jump suit, lying on a cot. His eyes were open, staring at the rack above him. A man was sitting beside him in the cell. Neither spoke for a very long time. It had been so long since I’d used my “power of sight,” I wondered if it was even working, until I heard the man say, “Jimmy, I can’t help you if you won’t talk to me.”

  Jimmy’s bitter answer: “Screw off, Doc. You can’t help me.”

  “You have a lot of anger. I can help you with the anger if you’ll just tell me about it.”

  Jimmy didn’t respond. He didn’t turn his head to make eye contact. He didn’t fidget. The kid looked almost empty.

  The doctor wiped beads of sweat from his forehead, closed his notebook, and looked to be at a loss. “Jimmy, I need for you to talk to me. I need to know why this happened.”

  “It happened because I made it happen.”

  “So, you’re telling me you just woke up yesterday and decided to kill two of your closest friends, their families, and a couple strangers who were unlucky enough to see you ditch a car?”

  “I killed those last two because they were going to jump me, and I didn’t want to be late getting home.” The doctor opened his notebook again and made some notes. He waited for Jimmy to continue. When he didn’t, the doctor prodded Jimmy further, “So the last two in the parking lot were threatening you? Then that was self defense.”

  “Yeah, they wouldn’t let me by. I thought they were going to beat the crap out of me.”

  The doctor made notes. “What about your friends.”

  Jimmy turned toward the wall, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  He and the doctor sat in silence for a time. The doctor prodded him several times before giving up and asking the guard to open the door. I followed the doctor out of the cell. The cell where Jimmy lay smelled of disinfectant - almost making me nauseous to be in there with him.

  A gruff man was waiting in an office as the doctor opened the door, “Well, Doc, did he waste your time?”

  The doctor flipped his notebook open, “He says the first seven murders were intentional; he seems to have acted alone. He claims the last two were self-defense.”

  “Do you believe him?”

  “Most psychopaths find a way to rationalize their actions: everything is someone else’s fault. From that perspective, his self-defense claims fit the profile. He seemed to have no remorse for the first seven murders. He didn’t brag about them and refused to talk about them at all, other than to say he was responsible. The perplexing issue is, in my experience, killers nearly always convince themselves that it’s the victim’s fault. This kid only sang that song for the last two; he didn’t try to convince me that any of the others had it coming.”

  “So, is he sane enough to stand trial?”

  “I don’t think he’ll have to stand trial. The kid says he did it to seven. You could ignore the last two, and he still gets the death penalty.”

  “So your recommendation is we not charge him for the last two?”

  “I’m not a cop. He doesn’t strike me as mentally unstable. He knew what he was doing, and he knew it was wrong. I watched the grainy video; it looks like an unprovoked assault. But is it worth it to roll the dice at trial if he’s willing to plead guilty to seven?”

  “You’re right, Doc. Thanks.”

  There seemed to be no hope for the kid, and I had seen enough police stations to know I didn’t want to stick around. I decided to return to my body. When I looked up, it was into Max’s eyes. His eyes were a near sea foam-green color with brown specks in them, and I never tired of staring into them. I could feel his hand caressing my arm. He must have known that I’d used my power of sight to look in on Jimmy Jacobs.

  When he realized I was back in my body, he casually asked, “Where’d you go?”

  “I wanted to see the kid.”

  Max nodded, “I was guessing that’s where you were. What’s his defense? A demon made me do it?”

  I shook my head, “No, not a word. From what I heard, two of the kids he killed were his friends. Several of the others were their families.”

  “He didn’t say why?”

  Wishing I had gotten better answers, “No, he was talking to a psychiatrist, and the doctor says he’s not a psychopath. It was sad, even the doctor talked about the death penalty for him.”

  “Did the kid say any
thing, you know . . . about Samael?”

  “Not a word.” I took a deep breath. I hated that I felt this way, but Max needed to know, “I wouldn’t do anything differently.”

  Max reached over and caressed my cheek. I could look into his eyes for days and never want to blink. As he held my gaze, he whispered, “We should have found another way.”

  “The Council would have killed you.” I took his hand, “I love you, Max. I can’t lose you.”

  Somberly he answered, “I’m not sure my life is worth more than nine others. If we had let the Council do what they came here to do, Samael would be gone and none of this would have happened.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, “You can’t know that.”

  I leaned into Max’s chest, felt his heartbeat – it was the rhythm of my world. Without his heartbeat grounding me, I don’t know what would happen. When Samael took up refuge in Max, I had taken Samael’s physical strength and his “power-of-sight” from him. My physique hadn’t changed, but I could bench press a Volkswagen and had on numerous occasions just for the fun of it. Hearing Max question our decision to move Samael to a willing host must have created a surge in adrenaline for both of us. I could feel our heartbeats picking up speed, beating in unison.

  I knew we couldn’t go through the rest of our lives with Max carrying this guilt, “So, we go find Samael - we fix this.”

  Max eased away from me, far enough to look in my eyes, still holding me in his arms, “What do you have in mind?”

  “We find Samael. We destroy him.”

  Chuckling at the absurdity of my idea, “Just like that? We destroy him?”

  Projecting more confidence than I felt, “Samael doesn’t scare me.”

  Max wrapped his palm around my cheek, cradling my jaw, “He didn’t take up residence in you, Lauren. He scares the hell outta’ me.”

  Surprised at his confession, I didn’t want to share with him my own fears. I reached over and squeezed Max’s bicep, “He scares you? Seriously?”

  Max nodded his head, and answered in a voice barely audible. “He’s a demon, Lauren. He has a fixation on you.”

  “That’s only because you had a fixation on me. He’s been out of you for months. He probably hasn’t given me a thought since he left.”

  “You don’t understand. It was a constant barrage of what he wanted to do to you. The images he put in my head . . . I just don’t want you anywhere near him.” His mouth came to my ear, a heavy whisper, “Eventually, we’re going to make a go of it: a wedding, kids, the whole ‘happily-ever-after.’ I don’t want to risk any of our future.” Max pulled my hand to his lips and gently grazed my knuckles.

  “Max, you’ll be with me. Samael doesn’t scare me. Besides, if we don’t do something, who will?”

  “I don’t know. The Council, the Cabinet, Priests, Fairies, at this point, I vote for anyone but us.”

  “So, our plan is to do nothing? Sit here on the couch and watch the story on the news?”

  “I’m all ears if you’ve got a better plan – one that doesn’t put you anywhere near him.”

  “I think we go find that kid. Find out what happened. If Samael’s to blame, we figure out how to exorcise him from the kid; then we destroy him, so nothing like this could ever happen again.”

  Max shook his head and used his lips to attempt to dissuade me, “Or we could go on a Caribbean cruise.”

  “Or, we could destroy Samael, save the kid, then come home and go on a Caribbean Cruise.”

  Seething with sarcasm, Max replied, “Or, if we screw up, and Samael somehow leeches back into us, the three of us could go on a cruise.”

  I wrapped my arms around Max tightly, and squeezed harder than normal, “Naw, three’s a crowd. We’ll just destroy him and the two of us can go.”

  A soft, “Uhmf,” escaped from Max as his eyes went wide for a second from my squeeze. “Okay, Supergirl, stop showing off, or I’ll withhold sexual favors from you.”

  “I double-dog-dare you.”

  “That sounds like a challenge.”

  “Take it for what you will.”

  Max gave me a crooked grin, “I’ve always liked a challenge.”

  I straddled Max as he sat on the bed; his arms were stiff and he refused to wrap them around me. Knowing he had a sweet spot just behind his ear, I began nibbling his earlobe, kissing his neck down to his collar bone. My fingers lightly caressed his back under his shirt as my mouth found the spot behind his ear. He didn’t have to say a word; I could feel him melting into me. Max let out a low moan as I pressed my weight into him further. His stiff arms began easing as he let his torso sink onto the bed. When I felt like he was going to crumble right in front of me, I asked, “Still withholding sexual favors?”

  “Ummmm hmmmm.”

  What started out as a playful moment between us was suddenly revving my engine. Sometimes men need things spelled out for them; this was one of those times. I removed my t-shirt and bra, tossing them on the chair across the room. Max smiled but still kept his hands to himself. I looked at the t-shirt he was wearing. It wasn’t one of his favorites, so I put both hands on the collar and ripped it right down the center of his chest. I stifled a giggle; it looked like a button-down shirt minus the buttons. When I leaned onto his bare chest, skin-on-skin, I was sure he would give in any second.

  Max flipped me over in the blink of an eye. My shorts decided to join my shirt on the chair across the room, and Max’s steel arms wrapped around me. “Okay, you win.”

  I smiled to myself, thinking, “Yes, I did.”

  *****

  As I lay in Max’s arms, my mind started running through possible scenarios. Jimmy could be really tied to Samael, or he may not want us to help rid him of his demon. Samael may not be with Jimmy; he may have host hopped months ago. Jimmy might be mentally ill, possibly driven that way by Samael. And the one I feared the most: Samael is in Jimmy and may refuse to leave, making Jimmy lethal for years to come.

  Max suddenly announced, “I know what you’re thinking.”

  Surprised, I asked, “Really? Enlighten me.”

  “If Samael really did make that kid kill all those people, maybe he’s stronger than we thought.”

  That hadn’t even crossed my mind. “What do you mean?”

  “Didn’t Renny say something about if they let him live inside me, he would get his strength back, or something?”

  “Yeah, I remember. But if he were getting stronger, wouldn’t he draw his strength from me? Wouldn’t I be getting weaker?” Max shrugged, so I continued, “I don’t feel like my old self. I feel just as strong as the day I took the bank vault door off. I just used the ‘sight’ thing a little bit ago and it worked fine. I think I would feel it if he were getting stronger.”

  “But he lost his powers when he went up against you. If he’s pretending to be weak, lulling us into a false sense of security, maybe his plan is to take you on and get his powers back?”

  “You’re giving him way more credit than he deserves. I don’t think he’s that smart.”

  “Lauren, I spent a lot of time with him. Don’t underestimate him. Remember, I had Samael inside me. I don’t think he’s ever ridden the short bus.”

  “So, you think he made the kid kill nine people, so he could make us come to him?”

  “This whole thing feels like a trap. I don’t know how he made the kid kill all those people, but our first thought when we heard about it was to go to the kid, right? Maybe he did it so he could get you to come running. What if it’s an ambush?”

  “You’re forgetting. I have my secret weapon this time.”

  Max looked confused, “What, Renny?”

  I shook my head, “No. I have you this time. Remember? The Dynamic Duo. As long as we’re together, Samael doesn’t stand a chance.”

  Max’s hand began to caress my back, “I just think we’re walking into something neither of us is really prepared for.”

  I shook my head, dismissing his doubt. “My who
le adult life, I’ve only wanted two things.” Max raised his eyebrows, silently asking what was dearest to my heart. “To meet you and to spend the rest of my life loving you, we’ll never have a normal life if Samael is allowed to exist.”

  “Don’t you see, Lauren? Getting involved puts you at risk. It puts our future together at risk.”

  “But what kind of future would it be if the guilt from doing nothing consumes us?”

  Max stopped caressing my back and pulled me to him in a tight embrace, pain intertwined in his whisper, “You are my world. I’ve come so close to losing you so many times, I don’t think I can risk it again.”

  “This is bigger than you and me, Max. This is bigger than Jimmy. Samael made him murder nine people. If Samael is gaining strength, we need to stop him now, before he could do it again. We have to stop him.” I didn’t need Renny or Dakota to validate my belief. Stopping Samael was not just my destiny, it was life’s mission. In my mind it was no longer even a choice.

  “I love you, Lauren. I trust you. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, but promise me, if you confront Samael – you won’t do it alone.”

  “Promise.”

  Chapter 10

  It took a whole day of talking through all the possible scenarios, we agreed, neither of us could live with the decision of doing nothing. Max was clear that he wanted me nowhere near Samael, I couldn’t help but feel there was something he wasn’t telling me. We would keep our distance, but would find a way to help Jimmy if we could. We decided not to take Peanut with us because we didn’t want to lock him in a motel room. Julio had been the farm’s caretaker before Max and I moved in together there. Julio stayed in our guest house and offered to take care of Peanut while we were gone. When I packed, I was “packing.” Since Samael had been out of our lives, I’d barely given my handgun much of a thought, but as I was closing the suitcase, I slid it in, just in case.