The Bishop's Legacy Read online

  Their affiliation was a loose one and the Church only turned to them in times of peril or to solve dangerous situations. Frieda knew that after everything that happened over the last few weeks their situation deteriorated and the existence of the Council was in serious jeopardy. What she didn’t need to do right now was make new enemies from within the church itself.

  So, she wouldn’t argue.

  “Sounds good,” she agreed. “We will get a hotel room nearby and you have my number. Let me know if you need anything.”

  “I will,” he said.

  Then, without further word, he stood up and disappeared out of the diner. Frieda watched him go and then let out a groan.

  “He’s kind of a jerk,” Abigail said, sipping her orange juice.

  “I know,” Frieda replied, taking a bite out of a strip of bacon. Suddenly, she wasn’t very hungry. “I guess that means we’re going to have some downtime to just hang out and relax—”

  Her phone buzzed on the table. She glanced at it and saw that yet another hunter was calling. She’d been dealing with more problems over the last week than the entire last year combined.

  She sighed. “It never ends, does it?”

  Abigail stared at her, a solemn expression on her young face. Frieda was glad that at least Abigail understood how frustrating her situation was.

  Or, at least she thought the girl did.

  Instead, Abigail pointed down at Frieda’s plate and her last strip of bacon.

  “Are you going to eat that?”

  Chapter 6

  Arthur was glad that Niccolo was finally starting to crawl out of his lethargic state. The priest wasn’t as withdrawn or sullen as he was over the last few days of driving and seemed to be taking the mission seriously.

  He knew from personal experience that the only way to deal with the sort of trauma Niccolo was facing was to stay busy. After his family was murdered he threw himself back into his work. It was a mistake that had led to his first negative interaction with Niccolo many months earlier. Niccolo had seen him at his lowest, only days after he murdered those cultists in West Virginia. He regretted what had happened, but it kept him from doing anything even worse.

  Like committing suicide.

  Arthur didn’t like to admit it, but he seriously considered taking his own life in those first weeks after his family had died. Charging into the manor in West Virginia was something of a suicide mission, one he never intended to survive, but he planned out even more visceral ways of doing it with either guns, knives, or pills.

  He might have done it, too, had he never stumbled across Abigail. She was like a beacon of light in the darkness, though if he was being completely honest it had nothing at all to do with her. She was the epitome of an idea: the idea that other people in the world still needed his help.

  That realization saved his life and gave him a renewed sense of purpose, and he just hoped that Niccolo could find a similar beacon to pull him out of his darkness. He was busy for now, but once the mission was over he would have time to fix things. Plenty of time to think and reminisce, and if he wasn’t careful he might find himself on a dark path.

  Part of what was happening, Arthur knew, was Jeremy acting off the cuff and making rash decisions. Whatever plan the Bishop concocted, it died with him, and now the child was just trying to make the best of a bad situation. The teenage boy was apt to make a mistake that Arthur might capitalize on.

  It just hadn’t happened yet.

  Arthur still had no clue how he would stop Jeremy once they finally caught up to him, if they ever did. Whatever mental ability Jeremy used to invade his mind back at the shipyard, Arthur had no real defense against it. He’d managed to fight off the control, but barely, and even then Jeremy caused him to lose track of time. Even if it was only seconds, in a gunfight those precious seconds could mean the difference between life and death.

  They were just pulling into the parking lot of the church in Akron, Ohio when his phone started to ring. It was Frieda finally calling him back.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello, Arthur. How are things going?”

  “I’m fine, but how are you? Are you dodging my calls?”

  “No.”

  “You sent me to voicemail twice.”

  “Because, I don’t have any answers for you. I knew what you wanted to ask and decided to spare us both the time. Plus, I’ve been busy on my end. I’m on a job myself.”

  “No kidding?”

  “Don’t sound so surprised,” she replied with a laugh. “I’m not only an administrator.”

  “Oh, I know. I’ve been telling you for years to get back out there on a hunt. Your skills are practically gone. I just never really thought you would do it.”

  “Well, circumstances haven’t given me much of a choice. More people are dying every hour and the Church demands results. After everything Leopold did to us monetarily, we can’t afford to sit this one out.”

  “So, you’re hunting.”

  “Even I can’t stay on the bench this time. Any luck on locating Jeremy? What did you find out at the Church?”

  “Nothing yet,” he admitted. “We only just got to Akron.”

  “The Vatican priest I spoke to sounded a little frantic when he called me earlier. Whatever it is, it’s probably pretty bad. Hurry up and deal with that threat. I could really use your help on another job right about now.”

  “It’s that bad?’

  “You have no idea. The kid I’m after is an empath, but we’re having trouble keeping up with the demand. We’ve had a dozen incidents reported around the country. Six of them aren’t even being tracked yet. I’ve pulled every asset and the Church has called in all of the support they can get, but it feels like we’re several steps behind.”

  “Is anyone on damage control?”

  “The rest of the Council is helping the Vatican deal with the fallout. We’re spinning everything and trying to stay ahead of it. So far no one has connected any dots or found hard evidence to prove what’s happening, but there are a lot of stories floating around.”

  With this many attacks across the country it would be hard for the public to stay unaware, Arthur knew, but something like a psychic child was impossible to prove. People might tell family and friends about the things that they saw, but as long as the authorities denied anything happened and there was no solid proof, it would all eventually go away.

  “Jeremy is the one we need to worry about,” Arthur said. “Plus whoever he came here to Ohio to meet. These were the two children that Leopold was expecting the most out of, and if we keep them out of the spotlight then the rest shouldn’t be too hard to round up.”

  “I know. I’m just worried about what Jeremy might do. If he’s half as strong as you say he is, he’s going to be hard to cover up.”

  “Is the church sending backup?”

  “Not yet. There isn’t anyone to send, and since nothing has happened in Ohio, at least until this church thing, they don’t want to waste resources.”

  “So, we’re on our own?”

  “For now.”

  “Great. I think the first wave of attacks was a distraction,” Arthur said. “We’re doing exactly what Jeremy hoped we would do. He wants to spread our resources thin so we aren’t prepared to deal with whatever is happening here.”

  “That’s where you come in, Arthur. We might be spread out and desperate, but if you’re our last line of defense you can’t fail.”

  “I don’t plan to,” Arthur replied.

  He parked the car and shifted in the seat to face Niccolo. He put his hand over the phone receiver, and then said to the priest, “Go and take a look around. I’ll be right behind you.”

  Niccolo nodded. He climbed out of the car and began walking across the church’s gravel parking lot toward the white church. Arthur waited until he was out of earshot before speaking to Frieda again.

  “We’re at Saint Thomas Church checking things out. I’m not sure if this was Jeremy or the other kid
, but there are a lot of police cars and ambulances out here. Five body bags at least.”

  “Call me when you figure it all out.”

  “I will.”

  Arthur hung up the phone and climbed out of the car to go and find Niccolo. The front entrance to the church was open and he found Niccolo just inside the doorway. The priest was locked in place and surveying the devastation in front of him with a horrified look on his face.

  The first thing Arthur noticed as he walked up beside him was the smell. It was burnt flesh, and human at that. Arthur had only smelled it a few times in his life, but it never got any less disgusting.

  It only took a few seconds to spot the source of the odor: a smoldering mess in the corner of the room that used to be a man. The fire charred the outside of his skin and clothes, but the pain must have been unbearable before he died.

  “The priest,” Arthur said, barely making out the man’s attire. “Looks like he was burned alive.”

  “Who could do something like this?” Niccolo whispered. His voice wavered and was barely audible. Arthur reached out and placed a steadying hand on his shoulder.

  “A monster.”

  “A child,” Niccolo objected, turning to face him. “A child did this, but also a monster. I used to think the two were mutually exclusive.”

  “I wish they were.”

  From the outside, this little church had reminded Arthur of Saint Joseph’s Cathedral back in Everett, Washington, the one that Father Reynolds presided over. This one was about the same size and built in a similar architectural style.

  The exterior façade, however, was where the resemblance ended.

  Inside, the church was a disaster. Many people died here, and they died horribly. The bodies were gone except for that of the burnt priest and a few others. Much of their spilled blood had seeped into the hardwood flooring and made the entire church floor slippery.

  The remaining bodies and body bags, though, were what caught Arthur’s eye. His original estimation of five people murdered here was low he realized.

  There must have been ten of them in here originally, at least, though with the amount of damage that was done to the ones that were left it was difficult to tell. Someone had cut these people open, removed their organs and intestines and scattered them around the room to cover the Christian murals and paintings on the walls.

  Blood and gore covered the entire interior of the church, mostly dry now. Some of the organs, Arthur noted on a closer inspection, were missing.

  Just like the people back in Everett.

  “Who could do something like this? Child or not, this is terrible.”

  Arthur didn’t have a good answer. He’d seen a lot of horrible things in his time as a Hunter for the Council of Chaldea, but this level of brutality took it all to a whole other place. A practiced hand had dismembered these parishioners, and it took a fair amount of time.

  He doubted Jeremy did it: at his age, he wouldn’t have the upper body strength, and no matter how jaded the teenager was about life Arthur highly doubted he had the stomach for this level of brutality.

  The little girl he was traveling with? Not a chance.

  Which meant the culprit was no doubt whatever humans or demons were traveling with Jeremy. He assumed someone got Jeremy out of California, but this all but guaranteed he wasn’t working alone.

  That made things dangerous enough, but with the organs he collected here, Jeremy could bring many more demonic soldiers into the world.

  No one was safe.

  “They are misguided,” he offered. He knew it was small consolation to the priest.

  “That doesn’t change what they’ve done. Nor does it excuse something like this.”

  “I know,” Arthur agreed. “There is no excuse.”

  Normally, he would have added some empty platitude for Niccolo about how it wasn’t the children’s fault, and that they could be saved, but right now he simply couldn’t find the words.

  One of the officers on scene took notice of them and began walking their way. He was distracted and unfocused, clearly upset by the carnage he was witnessing. Arthur slipped a fake badge out of his pocket he’d used in countless similar situations.

  “Can I help you gentlemen with something?”

  Arthur held up the badge. “Yeah. I’m Detective Simmons with the FBI. This is Father Niccolo Paladina. He’s here on behalf of the Catholic Church as a consultant to this crime.”

  The cop glanced at the badge but didn’t pay much attention to it. Arthur quickly slipped it away.

  Niccolo flashed Arthur a confused look but Arthur ignored the gaze of the priest. The cop didn’t seem to notice.

  “A consultant? Does the church think this was some sort of occult crime?”

  It took a second for Niccolo to realize the man was addressing him. He cleared his throat.

  “We aren’t sure yet.”

  “This is a preliminary investigation,” Arthur added. “We’re looking into the incident that took place here to find out more information before making any determinations. What can you tell us?”

  “Not a lot,” the officer admitted, turning back toward the devastation. “Whoever chopped these people up was strong. Like, really strong. The knife he used wasn’t that sharp.”

  “Hacking up bodies like this would have taken time. These people must have suffered a lot.”

  The cop shook his head. “The cuts were done post mortem, thank God. These people were dead before they were disemboweled.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean they all died of asphyxiation and then were carved up. At least that’s what the mortician is saying.”

  “At least they didn’t suffer.”

  “You’re telling me. Strangest thing though, and this might interest you, Priest, but it looks like some of their organs are missing, too. We can’t be completely sure about that, but we’ve been collecting and counting and some stuff seems to be gone. Sounds like occult stuff, right?”

  “It is odd,” Niccolo agreed politely. “What can you tell us about the asphyxiation? Was a rope used?”

  “Nope. No rope burns, no handprints, nothing. We found scratch marks on some of their necks, but they appear self-inflicted, like they were clawing at their own throats. It’s like they suffocated but nothing was choking them. They just … couldn’t breathe. It’s like their trachea was squeezed from the inside. Really strange.”

  “That is strange.”

  “The mortician is thinking collapsed air pipes, but we aren’t sure how that was achieved yet. He’s going to run a full autopsy on each victim before we know anything for sure.”

  Arthur nodded. It didn’t sound like something Jeremy did. If Jeremy was able to stop people from breathing like this, he would have done it to Arthur and Niccolo back at the shipyard. He wouldn’t have needed to run away when things got dangerous.

  Which meant it was the other child who was with him, Arthur decided. What power, though, could create something like that? Telekinetic? That was the likeliest suspect but he couldn’t be sure.

  “What else do you know about the cuts? Postmortem, right?” Niccolo asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Do they look like something a kid could have done, in your estimation?”

  The officer looked at Niccolo like he was crazy. Arthur fought the urge to laugh. “Not unless that kid was as big an adult, strong as a horse, and a complete psychopath.”

  “Ah.”

  The cop turned back to Arthur, clearly unwilling to take Niccolo seriously anymore. “Whoever did this was butchering these people, not just cutting on them. No hesitation marks. The bodies were practically exsanguinated, though not in a clean way.”

  “Did anyone see anything?” Arthur asked. “Something like this, it seems like there would be witnesses or someone might have escaped. Was anything called in?”

  “Nothing. We’re canvassing the neighborhood but so far no witnesses have turned up. Most people were at work and the church
is outside of town. We’re hoping someone might have heard or saw something but I don’t have high hopes.”

  “Alright,” Arthur said, handing the guy a business card with his phone number on it. “If you find anything of use let me know.”

  The officer accepted the card and slid it into his pocket. “Sure thing.”

  Arthur headed back outside to the parking lot and Niccolo fell into step beside him. The priest was silent, brooding.

  “No leads out of that,” Arthur admitted. “I was hoping something would pan out.”

  “All of that devastation, and nothing to go on. A complete waste.”

  “That’s not entirely true. It wasn’t a complete waste. We know more now than we did before.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We know that the children are somewhere nearby, which is a huge step in the right direction. At least we know what part of Ohio to search. I’m going to get us a hotel here so we’re in the area. They also hit this church instead of a different one.”

  “So?”

  “So: why this church? There are bigger churches in the area, much more populated, so if the goal was to get national attention this wasn’t a likely target. It must have some other significance, so we need to figure out what that is.”

  “Alright. Where do we go next?”

  “I’m not sure yet, but I’m starting to think that Desiree might have been on to something. We need to do some research and find out why they picked here, and for now we have to keep our ears to the ground and be ready to move. My guess is Jeremy’s next step is going to be putting those organs to use.”

  “He’s harvesting and preparing for some seriously dark rituals. I just can’t believe they could do something like this. They are only kids.”

  “Not ‘they’,” Arthur disagreed. “Both kids didn’t have a hand in this. Only one. The officer was right, they wouldn’t have been strong, nor cruel, enough to cut these people up.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Think about it: all of the people inside the church were given an almost peaceful death by asphyxiation before being butchered for their organs. Those two ideas don’t really work together.”