Sinister: A Paranormal Fantasy (Sinisters Book 1) (14 page)

Matt burst through the door to Oliver’s apartment. He was still shaken from his encounter with Caracalla, and he needed to talk it over with people who would understand. Guilt clenched like a fist around his stomach as he thought of his lie to Dean—or, if not a lie, he had at least not told the truth. Since Alice's defection to Daniel, Matt had turned to Dean whenever he wanted to talk about something, and he definitely needed to talk this over. He just had no idea how to explain to Dean the crazy world he'd stepped into—but hadn't Anna done just that with Oliver? He thought about Dean's reaction to his confession of B&E. It had been as cool and collected as Dean always was. He'd have to give serious thought to enlightening his friend.

“Anna will be here in a minute,” Oliver said calmly, unfazed by his compatriot’s entrance. He stood over a saucepan on the stove, and the scent of chicken Ramen filled the air. Matt’s rumbling stomach momentarily distracted him from his mission. He stepped into the kitchen area. “That smells good.”

Oliver looked indignant. “I fed you three hours ago!”

“You ate then too,” Matt answered, sidling closer to the boiling pot.

“Oh yeah.” Oliver grinned. “Well, we growing lads have to eat.” He pulled two teal plastic bowls from the cabinet and asked, “What’s going on?”

“I had the great honor of meeting the legendary Peter Caracalla today,” Matt replied drily. “I was so thrilled to be threatened by him.”

Oliver rounded on him, his mouth hanging open in an O. Broth flung from the spoon in an arc, spattering against the cabinets. “What exactly happened?”

Matt shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know how he knew we were in his office last night, but he did. He said something about sensing when people are in his personal space. So he showed up after soccer practice to brag about his cool powers,” he finished sarcastically.

“Whoa.” Oliver’s eyes were wide. “He’s afraid of us.”

Matt opened his mouth to respond, but stopped and shut it again. He had looked at Caracalla’s visit as a threat to them, but it hadn’t occurred to him to wonder why Caracalla paid them a visit. Sure, they’d broken into his office, but if that was all he cared about, he would have sent the cops after them. Instead, he’d personally shown up to tell them to stay away. It sounded as though they were on the right track. Matt just didn’t know what track that was.

He kicked the nearest barstool, sending it skittering across the linoleum with a squeal of protest. His throbbing toe did little to ease the frustration he felt. “Luke is obnoxious,” he grumbled. “He doesn’t tell us anything and expects us to know what to do! And I think he enjoys being all mysterious.”

“I do,” a smooth voice from behind him interrupted. “And yet that is not my rationale for telling you little of Caracalla. I have already explained that.”

Matt spun on his heels. His elbow flew wide as he did so and knocked a coffee mug onto the floor. He vaguely heard the melodic sound of it shattering as it hit the wooden floor, but he ignored both that and Oliver's shout of indignation. His attention was focused on the man in front of him.

“How did you get in here?” Matt asked, incredulous.

Luke tilted his head and looked at Matt out of the corner of his eye.

“I came through the door.” He gestured behind him to the thin wooden door, which creaked open as if on cue. Anna stepped in.

“But…you were so—quiet.” Matt stumbled over his words, though he didn’t know why he was so bothered by Luke’s appearance. Since Elias had chastised him that morning, he'd tried to pay attention to the sounds of people coming up behind him. Added to his new sense of others’ emotions, he'd expected to notice before someone got two feet away from him. With Luke, he hadn’t heard any of the squeaking hinges or creaking floorboards that indicated someone had entered, and he hadn't felt a thing.

“I have been practicing for years.” Luke flashed a grin, briefly smoothing out the darkened hollows in his cheeks. He suddenly looked much more like the young man he appeared to be. “Also, I appeared outside of the door and walked in so you could not hear my feet on the stairs. Look. Now you see me—” He extended his arms wide, like a magician at the big reveal—“Now you do not.” A warm glow of light radiated out from where Luke stood. When it faded, the man was gone.

“Whoa.” Anna stepped farther into the room, circumventing the spot where Luke had stood seconds earlier. “That looks awesome. So much cooler to watch than to do."

Another beam of light struck the room and Luke reappeared in the same spot. “Ta-da!”

Matt rolled his eyes but couldn't help laughing. “You’re ridiculous.”

Luke stepped forward and rested a hand on Matt’s shoulder. “Here is my advice, my young friend. Never take yourself or the world too seriously. The world can be changed and should be enjoyed. Your kind spends so much time doing what others tell you to, racing from place to place to accomplish their aims, all while hoping your life will get better, that someone will step in and fix your problems for you. You are not a victim. If you want something to happen, do it, and if you can, laugh at it.”

Warmth rose in Matt’s face at Luke’s words. Although the devil had worded it as advice, it sounded more like a criticism to him. He tried to keep his eyes locked on Luke’s but had to look away, unwilling to see the pity in the angel’s eyes. Staring at the floor, he could feel a fire start to kindle in his belly, warming the rest of his body. Luke wasn't human, so he couldn't know what it was like to be one. He inhaled deeply, hoping to cool the rage burning within him. There was no point in getting angry about it.

The devil watched him wrestle his emotions with amusement. “You think I am wrong, do you not? And yet you are so busy trying not to be angry that you cannot argue with me. Tell me, why do you dislike emotions so much?” Luke stepped away, wandering over to one of the barstools.

"They're not logical," he answered guardedly. Luke seemed to be leading to something with his question, and Matt had a feeling he wouldn't like where the conversation was headed.

Luke raised an eyebrow. "It is more than that, but you need not tell me. You should only consider what life would be like if there were no emotions."

"Doesn't sound so bad to me."

"No?" He perched on the stool. "What about first love or the joy of winning a soccer match?"

Matt was pleased to have a logical answer to that. "Well, if we didn't feel anything, I couldn't be sad to miss those."

Luke chuckled. "Touché."

He eyed Matt for a moment, but finally just asked, “What have we learned so far?”

He rested his elbow on the counter and propped his chin up with a fist. Anna pulled out the barstool next to him and plopped down, her feet thudding as they swung against the wooden slats. “Well, it looks like he knows how to open a portal to hell, from what we can tell.” She flashed Matt a conspiratorial grin and added, “Seeing as we did it this morning based on what we found in his office.”

Luke let out a surprised laugh. “My fearless little Anastasia. I shall find you a mission that calls for your kind of bravery.”

Anastasia?
Matt thought. He hadn’t known that was her real name. Though, considering he’d met her the night before and they’d spent most of that time talking to Luke or running around Madison, that wasn’t that surprising. He felt a flash of jealousy as he wondered what else she’d shared with Luke and not with him. Just as quickly, he realized how foolish he was being. He was jealous of the devil. Luke and Anna weren’t even the same species, for Pete’s sake. The jealousy faded, leaving a feeling of foolishness in its wake.

“Can't this mission be mine too?" Anna asked. "How come Matt gets the cool one?"

There was a brief moment of silence as Luke appeared to have an internal debate. Finally, he said, almost reluctantly, "Matt has some abilities that are rare even for sinisters. I was somewhat hesitant to have him join the sinisters because they can make a person unpredictable, but he is the only one who can stop Peter Caracalla.”

As he said it, Luke’s shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly. Matt wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t been staring so intently at the devil, trying to absorb what he was saying. For a moment, the weight of years seemed to pull on Luke. Just as quickly, he straightened, and the easy smile returned to his features. “I can only hope that as you come into them, you use them wisely.”

Matt’s hand groped for the counter, leaning his weight into it. He could hear the blood rushing through his ears as he tried to process Luke’s words. He had almost come to terms with his new abilities and the fact that he would slowly gain the powers that Elias had mentioned, assuming that the man would be there to guide him along the way. Now, though, Luke was telling him there were more. More, that only he had the ability to do. Or at least, there were very few who could do whatever it was. A sudden, unpleasant suspicion crossed his mind. “Are these powers something Caracalla has too?”

Luke nodded morosely.

“Powers you gave to him?” Matt was dumbfounded.

Luke nodded again.

“But…why?” Luke worked with God. God was omniscient, according to the Bible. Omniscient beings didn’t screw up by giving special powers to the bad guy.

As though reading his mind, Luke responded softly, “Even omniscient beings allow for human free will. And even ancient angels make mistakes sometimes.”

Somehow that admission cheered Matt. It was nice to know that even a creature billions of years old could do the wrong thing occasionally. He did, of course, wish that Luke’s mistake had been something like forgetting to show up and terrorize unsuspecting sixteen year olds or dropping his pitchfork in a hellish fire. If that had happened, he’d still be living in blissful ignorance, imagining that he was ordinary and that the devil might not be real.

“Okay,” Matt said slowly, nearly afraid to ask. “What are these powers?”

Luke winced slightly. “Caracalla was the first person who ever had these abilities. I had not even known it was possible.” He tone held a bitter edge. “It goes beyond just knowing where others are. You, and Peter, are so in tune with others’ feelings that you can use those emotions to influence their decisions.”

The words hung in the air like the fetid stink of something rotten. He gulped. “He can control what other people do? I can control what other people do?” He voice rose, cracking on the last word. It was wrong on so many levels. Knowing what people were feeling was one thing, but being able to control what they did…it was unnatural. It was the opposite of the free will that Luke claimed all people had. How could people have free will if he and Caracalla could change that will to suit them? There was no good use for such a power.

His stomach churned and he turned to look out the window, catching Anna’s eye in the process. She gave him a sympathetic look, and the gale raging in his stomach settled into a squall. She didn’t look afraid of him, at least.

A sudden realization washed over him. When he and Caracalla had been talking, he’d had a strong desire to do exactly what the man told him. At the time, he had thought there was something strange about the small voice in his mind. Now he knew why. The thoughts hadn’t been coming from him, they’d been coming from Caracalla. Matt felt anger well up in him as he realized just how much the man had tried to manipulate him. He squared his shoulders and straightened his spine. This man definitely needed to be stopped.

The barstool squeaked as Anna swiveled in it so she could face Luke. “Can you please, please tell us what Caracalla’s doing?” She stuck out her lower lip and opened her eyes wide. “Pretty please?”

Luke looked chagrined. "I cannot.”

"Why not?" Anna demanded.

"Because..." Luke's eyes shifted away from the girl's. "I am not allowed to. There is nothing more to it. And as I am not human, I am not given the same free will you are."

Matt stared at the angel, overcome by the sudden, inexplicable feeling that he was lying. He hated to blindly trust feelings without any evidence to support them, but his certainty was overwhelming the logical part of his mind that said there was no way for him to know this. Hadn't Luke said to trust his feelings more? Well, here was a perfect chance to do so. But why would Luke lie about this? Anything he could tell them would help them stop Caracalla, and presumably he wanted to stop the man. After all, he was the one who had come to Matt about it. Matt continued to gaze at him, and finally, the devil looked up. His eyes held only the curious blankness Matt was beginning to realize was the norm for him. Still, Luke was lying, and sometime soon, Matt would need to find out why. Preferably before Caracalla succeeded with whatever his plan was.

The rest of Luke's words belatedly registered. “Wait.” He held up his hand. “Are you saying people are the only ones with free will? Angels don’t even have it?”

He was fascinated, and glad for the distraction from his dark thoughts. Although the Bible talked about how God had created humans to rule over the earth, he had never really believed it. It seemed egotistical to think that people were better than every other creature. The fact that angels, who so closely resembled people if Luke were any indication, didn’t have the same free will was just strange. In many ways, angels seemed like better, well, people. Maybe it was the lack of free will.