Sinister: A Paranormal Fantasy (Sinisters Book 1) (6 page)

"Now that you met me..." she prompted, looking expectant.

He flashed her a smile. "I guess I do." Any doubts he had, he would keep to himself until he got more information.

The clerk plopped down a butter-scented bucket in front of the pair. A few pieces flew out of the bucket and hit the greasy glass counter with soft pattering sounds. Matt’s mouth watered as he remembered once more that he hadn’t actually eaten today, and he could almost taste the salt as he gazed at the golden mound in front of him. He paid the clerk and turned back to his new ally.

Anna grabbed a handful of popcorn and smiled mischievously. “You wanna meet after the movie to talk?"

A glance at his watch told him that the opening scenes were about to roll, though he hadn't realized how late it had gotten until now. He was much more interested in comparing notes with Anna—and spending more time with her in general—but he couldn't think of a way to say it that didn't come off as really lame. He nodded in response, hoping he looked cool.

“Who was that?” Jorge asked when he returned to his group, now patiently waiting by the entrance to the theater. His friends had been staring as overtly as Anna’s friends had been.

“Anna,” he replied. Now that he was back in safe territory, he felt his confidence returning. His tone was smug as he continued, “We’re meeting up after the movie.” Which was true, though not for the reason his friends would assume.

“Nice one,” Dean said approvingly.

“How—”

“The movie’s starting,” Rachel cut in, interrupting whatever Jorge had been about to ask. The group turned to stare at her and she blushed faintly.

“What?” she asked, a defensive note in her tone. “I t is. We should go in.”

After a moment, Dean shrugged. "True. Let’s roll."

Ϯ

The hinges squeaked as Matt pulled open the door to The Froth Café, letting yellow light spill out into the night. Matt had directed Anna to this coffee house after the movie let out, located only a few blocks from his house. A blast of warm air hit them and noise from the radio played softly in the background as they approached the counter. He didn’t recognize the song, but the melody was soothing.

Drinks in hand, the pair plopped down at a rough-hewn wooden table with a cut-glass lamp resting in the center. Matt slumped down in the chair, then wondered if that made him look too lazy. He sat up straight but realized immediately that he looked too eager like that. He settled for leaning his elbows on the table and asked, "So. Do you have any ideas how to go about completing a mission?"

He couldn't help the slight sigh that escaped him as he asked. They had discussed their respective encounters with Luke on the way over, and aside from the parts about Peter Caracalla, the content had been identical. Anna had again volunteered herself to help with his mission. He was ambivalent about getting her help. On the one hand, it would be great to have an excuse to spend time with her. On the other, he was getting dragged into something he wasn't sure he wanted to do, but he couldn't figure out how to admit that to her and still save face.

There's nothing wrong with being hesitant
, the stubborn part of his brain that refused to admit it was ever wrong said.
You have no reason to help this guy.

It was true...but the fact that he was too embarrassed to tell Anna he wanted no part of it surely meant something too. He just needed time to think, time that he hadn’t been given. He wished he could talk to Alice about it. She would know what to do. She always knew what the right thing was, and she never second-guessed herself once she’d decided.

Anna tapped an index finger against her lips as she considered. "Well...I think we need to gather some intel. You know, spy work. And then..." she lifted both hands, face up. "We stop him."

Matt chuckled. "Yeah, the stopping him part's what I'm worried about." That, and Luke's complete lack of information. He absent-mindedly ran a finger along the veins in the wood as he thought about the daunting task in front of him.

Anna flashed him a cheeky grin. "No worries, you've got me to help with that."

Matt couldn't help smiling in response. Even if the task was impossible, Anna was fun. "Then tell me, oh wise one, how do we gather intel? Luke isn't giving us much info."

“We could find Luke and tie him to a chair until he answers all our questions,” she suggested, the corners of her mouth quirking up.

He laughed. “I don’t think he would cave easily.

“Good point.” She drummed her fingernails on the table, looking pensive, then brightened. “We’ll break into Caracalla’s office!”

Matt laughed again, but stopped when Anna didn't join him. “Seriously?”

She nodded, taking a casual sip from her blue mug as if she suggested committing crimes on a regular basis. Then again, maybe she did.

Maybe crazy was a better word to describe her, though he couldn't help admire her bravery. “Are you nuts? We can’t break into his place! He’s rich! He’s probably got security cameras and Rottweilers and who knows what else. Plus, he seems to be doing something— magical. He can probably turn us into toads.”

“Magical is not quite the right word,” a voice chimed in from behind Matt. He twisted in his chair to see Luke standing a few feet away. “Supernatural, perhaps, but not magical.”

Luke walked to the side of the table and slid into an empty chair. As he did so, he passed through a shadow, and for the briefest instant Matt could have sworn he saw Luke’s eyes glow red. Then Luke sat down and the image was gone.

“I would really rather you did not tie me to a chair,” he continued in the same conversational tone, "but I would be happy to answer what questions I can."

“Are you stalking me?” Matt demanded. That probably wasn't the type of question Luke had meant, but it was the first one that popped into his head.

“Not at all." He sounded genuinely surprised by the question. “I love coffee, and my…assistants…are not particularly good at brewing a pot.”

“You have assistants? What exactly do you do?” Anna asked, her tone casual, though Matt could see her lean forward on her chair.

“Oh, a bit of this and that,” Luke replied loftily. “It matters not. What has brought the two of you together?”

“Coffee,” Matt answered. “We just love coffee, and our assistants aren’t good at brewing a pot.”

Luke laughed in earnest at that, an infectious rumble that enveloped the table. Matt couldn’t help but smile along. Against his better judgment, he was actually starting to like the crazy dude. “I take it you are aware that you both possess the same abilities.”

"About that," Anna said before Matt could respond, "Why didn't you tell me about Caracalla? Or give me a mission? How come he gets to do cool stuff and I don't?" She gestured with her thumb at Matt.

"I have a mission that requires his particular skills. I will soon have one for you, but I do not at the moment, so you are free." He turned his piercing blue gaze to Matt. "Am I to assume that you are agreeing to help now?"

Matt hesitated. Once he gave his word, he wouldn't go back on it. If he agreed to help, he had to follow through. He took a sip of his neglected coffee to delay his response and was pleasantly surprised at the explosion of vanilla, chocolate, and coffee flavors in his mouth. He took a larger drink just to enjoy it. When he finally answered, he was surprised at what he said. "Yeah."

Luke smiled broadly. "Wonderful!"

He wasn't so sure about that. He had a sinking feeling that he'd gotten himself in way over his head, and it wouldn't be too easy to get out. If he hadn't agreed, he would be sitting safely at home, playing FIFA.

Boring,
a tiny voice whispered inside his head.
Don't you want to feel like you're doing something worthwhile?

And anyway
, he thought more cheerfully,
I get superpowers now.
Luke might call them special abilities, but he was pretty sure they were superpowers.

“So what are these special powers we get?" he asked. "And why haven’t I heard about them before?”

Luke chuckled. "Would you believe it if someone told you a select group of left handers—people considered evil for long periods of history—worked, not to destroy the world, but to save it? In any case, we are able to better do our jobs if people are not aware we exist. You cannot fight the enemy you are unaware of." He ran his hand through his hair. “I admit we have asked more from you than is typical, but it is not too much. If every person gave what they could to society, my job would be much less of an uphill battle." His tone was challenging, as though daring Matt to do just that. "Have you read the Bible?”

Back to the religion thing. He still couldn't believe that God had actually sent Luke—or that God was real at all. He was an idea, not someone who interfered in everyday life. Although, without any other logical explanations...he reminded himself once more to keep an open mind, no matter how hard it seemed.

“Bits of it,” Anna replied cheerfully. She didn’t appear phased by the question. “We read the storybook versions in my Sunday school class, but that's about all.”

Apparently this was good enough for Luke. “In a general sense, though, you are aware of the stories. In many of the Old Testament tales, God is a very real presence in people’s lives. He commands them to build boats, he turns them into pillars of salt, he throws them into oceans to be eaten by whales, and on and on. God influenced people in great ways, but rarely comfortable ones. If God spoke to you, with few exceptions, it meant your life would be in upheaval for an indeterminate amount of time.” He added wryly, “People did not like that.”

“Are you trying to say those stories are true?” Matt should have known better than to be taken aback by anything Luke said, but he was.

“Some of them, though certainly not all,” came the calm reply. “Some of the stories are blatantly false. It was written by humans, after all. The Bible is not intended to be read as a literal book. If it were, your father would have five other wives and a number of slaves. The point I am making is that when humans first walked the world some hundred thousand years ago, they knew their god. They gave him different names, Rah and Allah, Thor and Zeus, but God was a part of their lives.

“Then humans began to evolve as a species, seeking to control more of the world around them. Rather than make their lives around weather patterns and landscapes, they built large structures that kept out the seasons. They flattened hills and redirected rivers. The greatest possible glory a man could achieve was to best nature. And they sought to push out God’s control as well.

“Knowing that people would not respond well to trials, God began to act as an indirect presence. People will act as people, some doing good, some intending harm, and some growing old without impacting the world in any way. God leaves you to do as you will, and for the most part it cancels out. The world is neither better nor worse than it was five thousand years ago.” Luke paused to draw a breath. “I am less tolerant of evil acts than He is, but the only time God allows me, or anyone, to intervene is when the balance of good and evil is severely threatened. Caracalla’s actions threaten the balance, so I am permitted to speak to the two of you.”

“Huh,” Matt said. He was too busy digesting Luke’s story to say more. It sounded as though Caracalla had figured out how to get to heaven and was knocking on the pearly gates. Disbelief rose in Matt, but he pushed it aside. He was trying to be open-minded, he reminded himself, and just because it was hard to swallow didn’t mean he would change his mind. He couldn’t claim to know how the world worked or all of life’s secrets.

“Why you?” Anna asked, her voice interrupting Matt’s ponderings. “What is special about you that God lets you get involved?”

“Have you not realized by now? The left-handed sign, my penchant for punishing evil?” His eyes gleamed as he said, “I am the devil.”

Matt choked on the sip of mocha he’d just taken. Gasping for air, he spit out, “The devil?” The words came out louder than he’d intended, and the hum of background chatter fell as the few other people in the café turned to stare at their table. When they lost interest, he continued in a quieter voice, "You aren't really—you can't be the devil. Can you?"

He trailed off as he realized it was no stranger than anything else Luke said. Why would God send the devil, though? And wouldn't that make him evil? He could feel his heart start to race as he realized he had just agreed to help someone claiming to be the devil. If God were real, this would definitely damn him eternally. He took a few of the calming breaths his sister Alice was always going on about after her yoga classes. Surprisingly, it helped.

“But of course I am,” Luke replied smoothly. “Did you have additional questions?”

Matt gaped at him.

"Nah, no questions." Anna grinned and Matt belatedly realized Luke had been joking.

“You’re impossible.” Matt didn't mean to speak aloud, but it came out nevertheless.

“Why, thank you. I do try to be as obtuse as possible. It seems to me it is important for the devil to be surrounded by an air of mystery.”

Matt laughed, but in the back of his mind he realized he was getting chummy with someone who was either crazy or the devil. Possibly both. It was time to get out of this mess. He couldn't help casting a regretful look at Anna, but said anyway, "I don't want to help the devil. You're—"