Fear the Wicked (Illusions Series Book 2)(17)

Petting her hair with one long stroke, I answered Richard. "I need you to go a few towns over and acquire a businessman for my demonstration. Make sure he's as clean cut as possible. Someone that, by sight alone, people would assume was responsible and focused."

Richard huffed. "How is that fun for me?"

"Because you'll also be acquiring a woman at the same time. One you can amuse yourself with at the cabin after the demonstration." My lips tipped up at the corners. "If you can find a pair that are husband and wife, that'll be preferred."

His eyes blazed with anticipation. "I think I can figure it out." He paused for a moment, his expression twisted with contemplation. "You sure this Gentry guy is ready for whatever you have planned? What if he runs to squeal to his brother? We haven't exactly introduced him to the family yet."

My voice dropped in tone, anger at being questioned sharpening the edges. "He was at the demonstration last night and came to me this morning seeking help. The seeds have been planted, Richard, now it's up to us to help them sprout and grow. I believe we should offer Mr. Holmes some special refreshments prior to the demonstration. Bend his mind a little. Make him more receptive to the truth we give him."

Richard laughed. "You're going to drug him?"

Grinning, I crooned, "That's a rough way of putting it, Richard. I only plan on tipping the scales in our favor. Not enough for him to know anything's different, just enough to make him feel more involved in the demonstration he witnesses. You catch my drift, I'm sure."

My fingers brushed through Eve's hair. She stirred just a bit beneath my touch, her eyes moving beneath the closed lids, her lips parting just slightly. "Give him a water downed version of the initiate brew. Enough to make him believe he's seen God, but not so much he can't drive home. I want him suggestible, not stoned out of his mind."

Grunting his approval, Richard couldn't hide a grin. "What are the two people for? The man and woman?"

“The man is for the demonstration. The woman is to prepare the man for the demonstration. I need to expose the demons in our world tonight, and I’d like to have several for Mr. Holmes to witness. They can’t all be sexual demons, can they? I think rage is another one that needs to be strung up and destroyed in order to lead Mr. Holmes to our side. Which is why I would prefer to pick up an intimate couple, husband and wife, boyfriend and girlfriend. Hell, even mother and son would do as long as that son is a grown man. Can you take care of that for me? Have them back here within a few hours?”

Pushing his considerable weight off the wall, Richard ran a meaty palm down his beard. “Of course, I can.”

I smiled. “Excellent, Richard. Trust me when I say you’ll be having fun in no time.”





JACOB


Returning home was just as hard as I'd imagined it would be. Driving into the city hadn't been so bad. With large glass towers and busy streets, the city had changed through time. The population was denser, the landscape constantly shifting as buildings were demolished and modernized. Creeping down the road through thick traffic hadn't clogged up my throat with memories and long faded emotions, but the same can't be said for the sleepy neighborhood where my childhood home sat empty, for the lazy sway of tree branches and winding streets that had stayed the same despite the amount of time that had passed since I last traveled this path.

Not even the parish, in all its holy glory, had affected me as much as the driveway I was now pulling into.

A semi-circle, the driveway took me up one side of the property, curving me around through the lawns and landscaping that had been meticulously maintained by the men managing my father's estate, right past the front door that sat deep inside a large, shaded portico. Slowing down as I approached the front, I stared at the driveway that kept going, that would lead me away from a place to which I'd never thought I'd return.

My hands gripped over the steering wheel, my eyes glaring at the house as I pulled to a stop. Even as a kid, I never understood the privilege in which I'd been raised, the amount of money my devout father had hoarded to himself instead of using it to help other people in need. What would Jesus think of the way he'd managed his godly life?

Standing proud beneath the glow of a bright, full moon, the house was a three story masterpiece, complete with a stone exterior, carved wood detailing, travertine tile on the front porch, diamond paned leaded glass windows and turret style risings from the roof. It looked like a small castle nestled in the center of a small quiet suburb, as large and pompous as my father had been.

I climbed out of my truck, slamming the door shut as I peered out at a house that had been abandoned for years. My mother died before my father and when I'd learned of my parents' fate, I'd inwardly enjoyed knowing that his last few years were spent alone. However, that joy washed out of me now, diluted until empty by the rush of anger and heartbreak pouring through my veins.

So many memories lingered inside that house like ghosts that would never go away. They followed me into sleep from time to time, begging for me to return and set them free. Those ghosts were the reason the walk to the portico took that much longer to make.

Pulling out a plain manila envelope from my pocket, I broke the sealed flap and extracted the bronze colored key given to me by the managers of my father's estate. He'd been surprised to see me arrive in his office unannounced, had told me he assumed neither my brother nor I would return to claim our inheritance. Ignoring the way he'd rambled on, I'd asked him for the key and ignored all the other information he'd given me.