Oblivion (The Watcher Chronicles #3) (3 page)

“You still haven’t answered my question,” Malcolm says tersely.  “Why are you so interested in this girl from your Earth?”

I look over at Mason because I know he isn’t going to like what I’m about to do.  Mason gives an imperceptible shake of his head warning me not to tell Malcolm the truth.

But I know I have to tell Malcolm what’s happened to his son.  It might be one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done in my life but I can’t, in good conscience, let him live with his doubt.

“She’s important to me because she’s my sister,” I say.

Malcolm grabs the tops of my arms with both of his large hands and squeezes.  I see Mason about to pounce on Malcolm and I furiously shake my head at him.  Reluctantly he stops, trusting me to know what I am doing.

“What happened to my son?” Malcolm demands, his face so close to mine I can feel his warm breath on my face.

“He didn’t give me any choice,” I say, wanting to make sure Malcolm understands why I did what I did.  “I had to kill him to protect myself.”

Malcolm squeezes my arms so tightly I fear he might pinch them off.  Suddenly, he pushes me away from him, but I know he didn’t use his full strength because my back doesn’t break when I slam against the far wall.

Instantly, Mason is at my side helping me get back on my feet.

“Are you all right?” He asks worriedly, looking me up and down to check for injuries.

“I’m fine,” I say, kneeling to the floor for a moment to fetch my sword.

“Is that what you used?” Malcolm asks, staring at the flaming sword in my hand.

“Yes.  He lunged at me and impaled himself on its blade.”  I say, not wanting to elaborate any further on the death of Malcolm’s son.

Malcolm closes his eyes and is silent for a long while before I see a twin trail of tears course from the corners of his eyes and down the sides of his face.

“So he didn’t bite you?” Malcolm questions, his eyes still closed, voice quavering slightly.  “He never tasted your blood?”

“No.  He didn’t taste human blood.  And, if it’s any consolation, I don’t think he suffered.  He died instantly.”

Malcolm nods that he heard my words but doesn’t make a reply.

I look up at Mason for reassurance that I made the right decision in telling Malcolm about his son’s fate.  Mason caresses the side of my face and nods, silently telling me that against his better judgment I did the right thing.

“Thank you,” Malcolm whispers.  “Thank you for killing him before he lost his soul.”

Malcolm suddenly opens his eyes wide like someone just hit him in the gut.

“You need to leave.  He’s coming.”

“Who’s coming?” Mason asks.

“Lucifer.  I told him I would interrogate you for information about your world.  If he finds you here Samyaza, he
will
kill you without blinking an eye, and I don’t have to tell you what he will do to her.”

“Where is my sister?” I demand, not wanting to leave before I have the information I need.

“Run!” Malcolm shouts.

Mason phases us to the sidewalk outside the building.

“Damn it!” I scream at Mason.  “Why did you do that?  He’s the only one who knows where Faison is!”

The people passing by us openly gape at me.  I’m not sure if it’s the flaming sword I’m holding or my public display of annoyance with Mason that’s drawing their attention, probably a little of both.

“Jess, we’ve got to go,” Mason says urgently, grabbing me by the arm and pulling me down the sidewalk to get lost in the crowd of people around us.

“No, we have to go back!” I say stubbornly, ripping my arm out of his hold and turning around, determined to get the information I need from Malcolm.

Mason grabs me around the waist and pulls my back roughly against his chest.

“Jess, listen to me,” he whispers desperately in my ear.  “Now is not the time.  Lucifer will kill me and torture you.  We will get the information another way.”

I know in my heart Mason’s right, but I’m hard-headed and leaving the one person who knows where Faison is goes against every fiber in my being.  I take in a deep breath trying to let Mason’s reasoning clear my head.

My body relaxes and Mason lets me go because he knows I won’t try to run back into the building.  My sword loses its flame just as I lose my will to fight.  I turn around to face Mason while sheathing my sword.

“What do we do now?” I ask.

Unfortunately, the answer to that question ends up not being our decision.

A black van comes to a screeching halt beside the sidewalk were standing on.  Two men dressed in black with ski masks covering their faces jump out and grab me.  Before Mason can attack them, a man I recognize phases in beside Mason, grabs his arm and phases him away. 

The two hooded men pull me towards the van easily because they are way stronger than I am.  But, that’s no surprise to me since I see the blue auras surrounding them marking them as Watchers.  Unceremoniously, they dump a struggling me inside the van, jump in and close the sliding door behind them.

“Go!” The one crouched directly in front of me yells to the driver.

The van’s wheels squeal as the driver hits the accelerator and we’re off like a shot down the street.

I don’t know what the hell is happening but I do know one thing.

Brand has Mason. 

Chapter 3

Before I know it, one of the men in ski masks pulls my plasma pistol out of its holster on my thigh.  The other reaches towards me like he’s going to try to pull my sword out of its sheath but I kick him in the groin before he has a chance.  With a howl of pain, he doubles over clutching his family jewels.

I reach back and pull out my sword swinging it towards the second man which makes him rethink lunging at me.

“Who the hell are you people and where has Brand taken Mason?” I demand.

The second man holds up his hands like he surrenders.  “Look, all we want to do is talk to you.”

“So that’s why you’re trying to disarm me and play the divide and conquer routine?  It doesn’t seem like all you want to do is talk,” I counter.

“Mind if I take the mask off?” The man asks.

“Sure.”

When the man peels off his mask, I instantly jab the point of my blade smack dab in the middle of his throat.

It’s Baruch.

“I take it from your reaction to me that you and I don’t have a particularly good relationship on your Earth.”

“I helped kill you,” I answer.

Baruch’s eyes widen in surprise.  “Well, I can’t say I saw that answer coming.  Was I that bad there?”

“Bad’s a relative term.  More like desperate,” I answer.

“I assure you that you’re safe with this version of me.  I’m not sure why my counterpart on your Earth did the things he did to deserve death at your hands but please keep in mind that I am not him.”

“Who are you then?  Who do you work for because the Baruch I killed worked with Lucifer?”

“I work against Lucifer here, can’t stand the slimy S.O.B. to tell you the truth.  That’s why I’m part of the resistance.”

“Resistance?”

“We’re a faction of Watchers who are trying to help the humans take their world back.”

“So not all of the Watchers here are working for Lucifer?”

“No.  Most do but there are about forty of us who don’t.”

The man I kicked is finally able to sit up straight, though he’s still holding onto his groin for dear life and seems to be having trouble breathing correctly.

“You might be able to breathe easier if you take that mask off,” I tell him.

The man keeps one hand on his bruised ego and uses the other one to strip his mask off.

I instantly feel guilty.

“Sorry Isaiah,” I say lowering my sword from Baruch’s throat.

“I take it we know each other in your reality?”  Isaiah asks with a grimace.

“Yes,” I say, sheathing my sword.  “You were my boss when I first became part of the Watcher Agency.  We’re friends now.”

If Baruch is with both Isaiah and Brand, I have to assume he’s ok.  Plus, he doesn’t have a corrupted blue aura like Malcolm’s.  Maybe whatever happened in our world to make him evil didn’t affect him in this reality.  Either way, I know Isaiah.  In any reality, he would be someone who remained a true friend.

“Why the divide and conquer maneuver?” I ask them again.

“Brand wanted to speak with Samyaza privately.  Plus, we wanted it to look like we took you both against your will.”

“For what purpose?”

“This way no one will think you came with us willingly,” Isaiah tells me.  “If you decide you don’t want to have anything to do with us, your reputation won’t be tainted by associating with known criminals.”

I grin at Isaiah’s statement.  Isaiah being a criminal is an amusing thought.

“So where are you taking me?”

“We have a hide out here in the city,” Baruch answers.

“Is that where Brand took Mason?”

“Yes, they’ll both be there.”

Isaiah finally takes his hand off where I kicked him but winces as he shifts his weight and leans his back against the van’s sliding side door.

“Sorry about the kick,” I tell him, truly meaning it.

“No, you had every right.  Just lets me know you can handle yourself in a fight if you have to.”

“Isaiah,” I say, “what happened here?  Why did the Watchers take over?”

“They didn’t do that on your Earth?” Isaiah asks in surprise.

“No.  That’s why I’m so confused.  The Watchers in our reality are all helpful.”  I let my eyes slide back over to Baruch.  “Well, almost all of them anyway.  There are a few who have sided with Lucifer, but it’s less than twenty Watchers now.”

“It would probably be better if we waited until we’re with Brand and Samyaza to continue this discussion.”

“Why don’t we just phase to them?”

“Don’t want to leave the kid.”

“I’m not a kid,” I hear a familiar voice say from the front of the van, hidden behind a metal divide with only a small grate to talk through.

“Joshua?” I question.

“Uh, Josh.  Do you know me?”

“I know the Joshua from my Earth.”  I look at Isaiah.  “How did he get involved with you guys?”

“We saved the kid a few years ago,” Baruch says.  “He was put into a game of Bait but we were able to get him out before he became puppy chow.”

“Now I’m their indentured servant,” Josh says good naturedly from the driver’s seat.

“But you’re such a good little errand boy,” Baruch teases.  “Kind of like our pet human.  Who else would make our coffee?”

“It’s true,” Isaiah agrees, grinning.  “The kid does make a good cup of coffee.”

“Glad my talents are appreciated,” Josh replies with a touch of sarcasm.

“So how many humans are there in this resistance of yours?”

“Thousands across the world,” Isaiah tells me.  “We’re just waiting for the right moment to attack.  It’s going to have to be swift and unexpected if we want it to work.  Plus, it’s hard to turn the Watchers who are sector Chancellors to our side.  After being under Lucifer’s influence for so long, most of them don’t want to give their power up.”

“Have you approached Malcolm?”

Both Baruch and Isaiah are stunned into silence by my question and then they both begin to chuckle.

“That narcissistic ass?” Baruch says derisively.  “He’ll never give up the power he has.  He revels in being the center of attention too much.”

“You’re wrong about him,” I say, bringing their laughter to a halt.  “He’s more than he appears.”

“There’s no way he would help us,” Baruch says with a shake of his head.  “He and Brand have hated each other for millennia.  Even if Malcolm did finally want to fight against Lucifer, he would never work under Brand willingly.”

“If I were you, I wouldn’t write him off so readily.  I think if you approached him the right way, he would help you.  He just needs something to believe in.  He needs someone to put a little faith in him.”

“Don’t confuse our Malcolm with the one on your Earth,” Baruch warns me.  “You don’t know what the one in this reality has done.”

“I know he’s done things he’s ashamed of,” I answer, feeling an odd need to defend Malcolm.  “There’s more to him than he’s let many people see.  If there wasn’t, why would he let Mason and I go before Lucifer showed up at his place tonight?”

“He did?” Isaiah asks, surprise in his voice.

“Yes, he did.  I think if you handled him correctly he could become a valuable ally.”

Isaiah and Baruch fall silent as they each contemplate my words.

“We can discuss this further when we’re with Brand.  He’ll have to be the final judge on any communication with Malcolm.”

“Is Brand the leader of your resistance?”

“Yes,” Isaiah tells me.  “He held us together when Lucifer tore the Watchers apart.”

The van comes to a stop.

“We’re here,” Josh says.

Isaiah leans forward holding his hand out to me.

I place my hand in his and suddenly find myself standing in a large cement room which has been converted into living quarters.  I get the feeling we’re underground in the windowless space.  The room is comfortable looking with newish looking furnishings.  It reminds me of my father’s study in a way with its walls lined with book shelves.  There’s a comfortable sitting area with a couch and some chairs.  A dining area complete with table and chairs sits next to a large kitchen with dark wood cabinetry and stainless steel appliances and fixtures.  A set of stairs leads up to a cement platform where the only door to the room is located.

Mason and Brand are sitting at the dining table with cups of coffee in front of them.  When Mason sees me phase in with Isaiah, he immediately stands from his chair and walks over to me.

Mason envelopes me in his arms and I hear him sigh.  For the first time since we traveled to this reality, I feel safe.

“If you gentlemen would excuse us for a moment,” Mason says to the others before phasing us to what I have to assume is the hallway just outside the room we were in.

We’re in a corridor made of cement blocks.  Low hanging, naked light bulbs line the ceiling.  I feel like I’m in a fall out shelter or an abandoned wing of a subway tunnel.

Mason pulls away from me slightly.