Sinister: A Paranormal Fantasy (Sinisters Book 1) (7 page)

"Evil? Everyone thinks that." Luke threw up his hands in exasperation. "I have a horrid reputation among humans based on lies and slander. First of all, there are actually a number of instances in the Bible where I ask permission from God to get involved in human affairs, such as the beginning of Job. You did get that part right," he grudgingly acknowledged. "But the main reason I ask him is because he is my lord as much as yours, and I would never disobey him or do anything without his permission. Which is more than I can say for humans,” he added with a pointed look.

Matt felt like a five-year-old who’d just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He wondered if Luke knew all of his sins and suddenly felt an uncomfortable need to look at his life so far.

Luke continued before Matt could get too caught up in memories. “I am not the evil being the Bible and the church make me out to be. Everyone likes a scapegoat, but if humans want to blame someone for their misfortunes, they should look closer to home. I do have an active interest in people, but my role is, as I told you before, maintain the balance of good and evil. That is either done by preventing evil or, barring that, punishing it. The creation of evil is entirely a human enterprise.”

“So you’re not the bad guy?” Matt asked skeptically. “Even though everyone in the world thinks you are. We all just happen to be wrong?”

Luke's eyes were serious as he replied, “What is right is not always popular. That, I would think, is something that has been proven again and again in history.”

Matt nodded slowly. That, at least, was true. Mr. Lowe, his middle school history teacher, loved the “great man” stories of the past, where one person was the focus of all of history. Almost every one ended with that person being proved right, centuries after his death. But they also usually involved the person’s death. Matt had decided in that class he didn't want to be a great man.

Anna, who had been eyeing Luke shrewdly, asked, “Doesn't the devil just trick people all the time? How do we know that you’re not just telling us you’re helping God when you’re really trying to get us to do something for you?”

Luke looked unperturbed by the question. “You don’t. I would hardly tell you that I am the devil if I intended to do so, however.”

Anna tilted her head to the side. “I suppose..." She continued eying him, but asked, "So what can you tell us about Caracalla, then?”

Luke opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by a boy about Matt’s age, dressed in the green T-shirt and apron uniform of the café.

“Excuse me, but we’re closing.” He nodded apologetically at the trio.

“Thank you. We will depart.”

The group stood up, chairs scraping across the floor as they pushed away from the table. Matt noticed now that the room had completely emptied during their conversation, and the barista was throwing them nervous looks from behind the counter as she wiped down the espresso machine. There seemed to be something about Luke that made everyone uncomfortable.

The door swung shut behind them as they stepped into the night, and Matt heard the sound of the lock turning. The circles of light from the streetlamps didn’t reach the spot where they had congregated, and though the features of Luke’s face were lost in shadow, Matt once again could see the red glint in his eyes. He shuddered.

An awkward silence fell as they all struggled to decide who would resume the conversation. After what felt like hours but was probably only twenty seconds, Luke said, "I nearly forgot, yet again, what brought me here. I neglected to give you both something you will need to continue as sinisters." He reached into his pocket and pulled out two black strings. Lamplight sparkled off of something attached to the bottom of the strands.

"These amulets will let you pass between your realm and mine. Many sinisters come and go when they need advice, to practice with their skills, or just a place to escape to." His eyes twinkled. "It can be useful for running away. It also offers some protection, so wear it at all times."

Matt and Anna reached simultaneously, and their hands collided. Matt felt his cheeks warm as he glanced at her. She gave him a brief smile, then returned her attention to the amulets.

"How do they work?" she asked in a hushed voice.

Luke slid one around her neck. "Hold onto the amulet and think of where you want to go.” Matt opened his mouth to protest, but Luke held up a hand to forestall it. “I realize that will be difficult without knowing what the place looks like. I shall help you this first time." Luke extended his arm. "Here, Matthew, put yours on."

The cord felt cool against his skin as he reluctantly slid the amulet on. His hands were in fists as he dropped them to his side, trying to contain his nervousness. There's no such thing as magic, he reminded himself. Science is real, and magic is just science we don't understand. For some reason, his usual logic didn't help. Even though he knew a chunk of metal and rock couldn't let him get into a different world, his stomach didn't seem to agree.

"Now, grasp hold of the amulet with your left hand. Good. You must always ensure you are alone—" He glanced over his shoulder at that. Matt, too, looked, but all he saw were pools of yellow light illuminating specks of water on the sidewalk. At some point, it had begun to rain. He was surprised he hadn't noticed but suddenly felt cold as the rain pattered onto his windbreaker and weighed down his hair. A wind gusted, and he shivered. "Once the vicinity is empty, think, as I said, on where you want to go. Imagine the meeting room. It is a large room, perhaps twelve meters long and eight wide, and the ceiling is half again as high as I am. The walls are stone, but the floor is covered with patterned carpets. Armchairs are scattered about the half of the room near the fireplace, a monstrous hearth as tall as a man with a great fire blazing inside. The other side..."

Luke's voice continued, but Matt was distracted by the sudden heat coming from inside his grasp.
I'm imagining it
, he told himself.
Only chemical reactions can create warmth like that.

The amulet sent out a burst of heat, and Matt felt himself enveloped in flame. Terrified, he opened his mouth to scream and inhaled the heat. It burned down his esophagus and into his lungs, making it impossible to breathe. He tried to uncurl the fingers of his left hand and panicked when his limb failed to respond. He could hear wind rushing around him now, followed by the crackling of flame. He fought to move, pull in a breath, anything, but couldn't.

The heat ceased. His lungs shuddered as they drew in cool air that tasted of smoke, calling to mind the campfires of Boy Scout trips when he was younger. He inhaled a second time, getting his breath back, and he smelled a hint of rotten egg beneath the smoke. The wind had ceased as well, but the crackling of fire continued. Matt opened his eyes to see the fireplace Luke had described. Flames licked the stones as they flitted merrily into the chimney.

"And here we are." Luke's cheerful tone grated on Matt's frayed nerves. He threw a glare at the alleged angel and curled open his left hand, expecting to see burn marks. Instead, his palm was clear, and he ran his right hand over it in wonder. He couldn't figure out how he wasn't burned. Then again, he couldn't figure out how he wasn't still standing on the street, feeling a little foolish for buying a crazy man's story. He would have preferred feeling foolish to knowing that Luke was telling the truth.

"It will become easier with practice," Luke said. "I apologize for not warning you, but had you known it would be painful, your worry would have prevented you from making the transition. Now that you have done it once, your cell's memories will be able to cross again with less strain."

"Sweet," Anna said. "So we're, like, in hell?"

Matt started. It hadn't really occurred to him where they were going, mostly because he thought he wouldn't be going anywhere at all. He was actually in hell...he could feel his jaw slacken. In awe, he looked around the room. It just looked like a large room, exactly as Luke had described, which was disappointing. Matt had imagined hell would be full of fires and pits, with screaming souls pleading for release. Instead, the left side of the room looked like a cross between a medieval castle and a coffee shop. The other half of the room, the one that didn't contain chairs, looked like a gym of some sort. The floor was covered in mats, and a man and a woman were practicing some sort of martial art in the middle. He watched for a few minutes, fascinated. The woman blocked a punch the man threw, then swept her leg out and caught him behind the knees. The man started to fall back but caught himself on his hands and sprang upright again. Pressing her advantage, the woman jabbed the man's solar plexus with her elbow. When he leaned forward in pain, she grasped his right arm and moved to flip him onto the ground. In a swift movement, the man brought his other arm up and locked her in place, using his greater weight to crush her movement.

"Those are two of my rangers." Luke spoke from just behind Matt. "They tend to get into physical altercations with their targets, so it is imperative they hone their skills. You, on the other hand, will be an investigator, so fighting abilities are less important. Still," he continued, "you can practice if you want. Sydney and Marcus are two of the best and are happy to help new recruits learn."

"We're investigators?" Anna asked eagerly. "What do we get to do?"

Luke raised an eyebrow. "I am not entirely certain I shall place you as an investigator yet. Since I am certain I will be unable to persuade you to stay out of Matt's assignment, however, you will be a temporary investigator. You both shall share a mentor."

Anna looked gleeful as Luke waved at a chair near the fireplace. Matt belatedly noticed there was a man sitting in it, who rose on Luke's command and sauntered over to the pair. Matt's eyes traveled up, and up, to study the man. He had to be at least 6'5", with a serious expression beneath salted brown hair. His hazel eyes were unreadable as he studied the teenagers. Matt swallowed.

"I'm Elias." His voice rumbled out of his chest as if it were coming from the deep recesses of some cave. He offered his hand, and with more warmth in his voice, said, "Welcome to the team."

Matt shook his hand firmly, surreptitiously straightening his spine. Something about this man made him want to snap to attention.

"Elias is, of course, an investigator. He will help you on this case."

"Wait." Matt stuck his fists into his windbreaker pockets, fingering the paper clip he found inside. "This is...it's unbelievable. We can't be in hell. You can't really be the devil. And if you were, you definitely wouldn't be trying to stop evil!" His voice cracked on the last word. It had been a stressful two days.

The words had been addressed to Luke, but it was Elias who answered. "Many people struggle when they first learn about their role in the world. It's perfectly normal to be confused and disbelieving. I can tell you, though, that it's true." He placed a warm hand on Matt's shoulder. "I've known Luke for nearly twenty years now, and he only sends us on assignments that are for the good of people and that we can handle. He's one of the good guys."

Matt studied this new stranger. The expression on his slightly tanned face was friendly, though a wariness that lurked behind it said he trusted rarely, and only with difficulty. His close-cropped brown hair and broad shoulders gave him the look of a soldier, and he had a strange way of elongating the vowels that made Matt think English wasn't his first language. He tilted his head. "Where are you from?"

Elias gave a slight smile. "Finland. But I assure you, my English is quite good. We won't have any trouble talking."

"Finland?" Anna sounded surprised. "Shouldn't you be blonde?"

Elias laughed. "Not every Scandinavian is tall and blonde. Especially in my country."

Anna looked sheepish. "Sorry. Sometimes my mouth asks stupid questions. My brain has nothing to do with it, I swear."

The pair fell into easy conversation, and Matt turned to look at Luke. The devil watched him steadily, a faint plea in his eyes, and Matt had the sudden insight that for all his flippancy, he was very afraid of something. Matt didn't know if it was fear of whatever Peter Caracalla was doing, or something else, but he didn't like being in a situation where even the devil was nervous.

"Elias will help us?" It was less of a question than an admission that he was ready to do whatever Luke needed. He may have preferred to curl up under the covers until this was all done, but he knew that, even if he wouldn't remember any of this, he would never forgive himself if he didn't try to stop something evil when he had the chance.

Luke nodded. "The balance is barely held where it is. If Caracalla were to succeed..." his voice, already quiet, faded until it was so quiet Matt almost didn’t hear the rest of what he said. "The balance cannot hold."

Needing to know, but dreading the answer, the boy asked, "What happens if the balance doesn't hold?"

Luke's eyes were still pointed at him but no longer seemed to be seeing his face. "The best case scenario would be the destruction of Peter and his immediate surroundings. The worst case would be the end of the world."

The soft pattering of rain was Matt's first indication that he was back in the real world. He sucked in the scent of damp earth as he struggled to get his breath back. The trip back had been, as Luke promised, easier than the way there, but it was still unpleasant. The worst part was that he knew he needed to make the trip again tomorrow, since Anna and Elias had agreed to meet. With Elias in some unpronounceable city in Finland, the only place they could get together was hell. He shook his head in wonder. He'd always thought being in hell was just a figure of speech.

“I must leave you two,” Luke said. “I cannot tell you what Peter Caracalla is doing, but he is a busy man who often works until after ten at night. His office is on the top floor of the thirty-three East Main building on the capitol square.”

Luke sounded briskly efficient, and Matt began to wonder if he'd imagined the fear in the devil's eyes when they'd spoken in hell. But no, he reminded himself, the end of the world would scare anyone.

Before either of the teenagers could say a word, Luke strode off, quickly melting into the shadows. Anna turned to Matt, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

“He wants us to break into Caracalla's office! Just like I said!” she exclaimed. “He wouldn’t've told us those details if he didn’t.”

Matt frowned. He had been thinking about Luke's earlier words, but now that Anna pointed it out, his last message had been oddly specific. He wouldn't have told them the address if he didn't want them to go, or let them know what hours he kept. He really didn't want to do something illegal, but he also didn't want Anna to think he was scared. Stalling for time, he asked, “Are you sure you want to take orders from the devil?”

“No,” Anna said cheerfully. “But what's life without a little uncertainty? Besides, how else are we going to get to the bottom of this? We can’t just walk up and ask Caracalla what he’s doing.” She waggled her eyebrows and said in a sing-song tone, "You know you want to."

Matt knew no such thing. In fact, he was fairly certain he didn't want to. He was also pretty sure Anna wouldn't be impressed by a guy who was too scared to do something illegal when trying to save the world. He sighed.

“Fine,” he said. “Just remember that when we get arrested, I don’t think the police are going to accept ‘the devil told us to’ as a good reason. When should we go?”

A gust of wind whipped Anna's hair into her face, and she impatiently shoved it aside. “Tonight. Luke said we don’t have much time.”

“Sure, might as well get it over with. That way my parents have all weekend to bail me out.” He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, hunching against the wind.

“Oh, come on, Matt, it’ll be fun. And we won’t get arrested. If we get caught, we’ll just say we were playing a prank. They’re not going to arrest two teenagers for doing something stupid or everyone’d be locked up.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You have a strange definition of fun. How are we going to get in?”

Anna shrugged nonchalantly. “That'll be easy. My cousin works for a locksmith. He can get into pretty much anything.”

This didn’t surprise him nearly as much as it would have coming from anyone else. “You just happen to have a cousin who can pick locks? And you want to bring him along? I don’t know which part is worse. Do you want to invite your parents, too?” So much for sounding cool about the idea. He couldn't seem to stop the sarcasm from flowing out of his mouth, rejecting every idea Anna had, but this—mission—went against everything he'd been taught. Still, he needed to shut up before Anna realized what a coward he was. His heart was pounding nervously just thinking about it.

“You have a better idea?”

He tugged his top lip between his teeth, trying to think of another way to get in. At last he gave a muffled, “No.”

“It’s settled then,” Anna said. It sounded to Matt as though she were suppressing a smile. “Let’s go.”

Ϯ

Matt paced restlessly in front of his window, watching for headlights to appear at the end of his street. Despite Anna’s eagerness, Matt had convinced her they needed to go home and show their parents they were safe for the night before they engaged in burglary. It had given him the chance to do a little research on breaking in, and also to work himself into a complete panic.

“Turn the lights on so it looks like you belong,” he muttered under his breath. “Wear a uniform because people will only remember your uniform and not your face.” The bits of information he’d managed to glean during his internet research were helpful, but keeping everything straight was proving to be difficult when every other thought was worry about his parent’s reaction if he showed up with a police officer in a few hours. He’d read that twelve percent of burglaries are solved, which was way too high for his liking. He wondered if colleges would frown on a felon applying for admission.

Remembering something else he’d read, he dove into his closet, pawing through years of accumulated junk. He felt a twinge of guilt as he pushed aside a guitar and a chess set. Both were projects he’d taken up over the years, convinced he would become the next Eric Clapton or Garry Kasparov, and then abandoned shortly after when it took too long to master them. He pushed the objects and guilt aside and finally saw what he’d been searching for: his gym shoes from eighth grade. They were the only white-bottomed shoes he had, and he didn’t want to leave scuff marks on any tiled floor they crossed. He started to slide them on and realized almost immediately that these shoes wouldn’t work. The shoes were a lot smaller than he’d remembered. For a moment he just stared in consternation, feeling as though his plans were crumbling around him. With a sigh, he tossed aside the shoes and grabbed a newer pair. After tying them on, he stood back up and resumed pacing in front of the window.

Headlights swung around the corner onto his street, and Matt sighed in relief. He would have driven himself crazy if left alone much longer. Matt slipped out of his room and down the staircase, his backpack slung over his shoulder. He was careful to only step on the edges of the stairs where they were less likely to creak. He tiptoed through the kitchen and slid back the deadbolt on the back door, wincing as the metal rasped against the frame. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until he’d shut the door behind him.

Anna’s black car idled in front of his neighbor’s house, and he could see her silhouette waving cheerfully from the driver’s seat. Light reflecting off the windshield prevented him from seeing the passenger side, so he jumped in shock when he reached for the handle and saw a figure grinning at him through the window. That must be the fabled cousin. Matt reached for the rear door and slid into the backseat instead.

Anna’s cousin twisted around to face him as he slid in. White teeth gleamed from his face in the dark interior of the car.

“Hello,” he said in a British accent. “I’m Oliver. You must be Matt.”

“I am. Nice to meet you.” He tried to move his back pack to his feet as he spoke and realized he’d closed the door on it when he got in. Matt tugged ineffectually at the pack, but one of the straps was caught and he couldn’t get it to budge.

“What have you there, then?” Oliver asked.

“Just some stuff I thought would help,” Matt replied distractedly. Anna had started driving, so he couldn’t open the door, but the pack was wedged into his right side and was making the trip uncomfortable. He gave a hard yank on the back and the bag finally popped loose. Without resistance, the force he had been applying caused the bag to speed through the air and smack him in the face before he could do more than blink.
Well, that’s a great way to start the adventure
, Matt thought wryly.

He turned back to Oliver, hoping he wouldn’t say anything about Matt’s blunderings. Bad enough that he saw, but there was no need for Anna to hear about it as well.

Oliver’s lips twisted into a smile, but he didn’t comment. Matt took the opportunity to study him. He had a mop of reddish blonde hair that perched on his head like a badly placed bird’s nest. A few hairs stood on end, drawn to the ceiling by static electricity. A jean jacket covered up a speckled red shirt, which in turn adorned a stocky frame. His snub nose, perched beneath two almost invisible eyebrows, was dotted with freckles. Matt guessed his age to be about twenty.

“So has Anna told you what’s going on?” Matt asked.

“Bits and pieces. I’ve not gotten the full story from her, but I will right enough.”

Matt gave him an inquiring look. He wanted to get an idea of what Oliver knew before he blurted out something Anna didn’t want to share. He couldn't decide which was worse, though— either Oliver had no idea what he was getting involved in, or he had taken Anna's description of the devil at her word. Oliver was either getting placed in a difficult situation unfairly, or he was at least a little bit crazy.

“I told him that we needed some help getting into a building downtown. And that we weren’t stealing anything,” Anna said over her shoulder.

Matt couldn't help but admire her apt description, though he couldn't imagine agreeing to help someone with that little information. He said as much to Oliver.

“Anna’s like a rat terrier when she’s got her teeth in something. It’s best to let her have what she wants and ask for explanations later,” Oliver cheerfully replied.

Anna laughed. “Insanity runs in the family. I think it comes from my mom’s side—Oliver’s mom is my mom’s sister.”

Matt couldn’t think of any response to that besides complete agreement, so he changed the subject.

“I have some ideas for how to do this. The break-in, I mean,” he clarified, wincing as he said it. Saying it out loud brought home the fact that he really was about to attempt burglary. Assuming that was the right term for breaking in; he didn’t have much experience with the legal definitions of robbery and had never wanted to.

Anna interrupted his train of thought. “Tell us quickly because we’re here.”

“Already?” Matt whipped his head toward the window, where the white granite dome of the capitol stood, illuminated and towering over the square. They were parked on a diagonal side street half a block removed from the square. To the left, thirty-three East Main loomed, the dark windows staring at them accusingly.

“It’s only a mile and a half from your place,” Anna responded as she hopped out of the car. Her door slammed closed behind her with a final-sounding thud. Oliver’s echoed the noise.

Matt exited much more slowly, not quite as eager to head down a path that ended in prison. He stood by the car, watching as Anna and Oliver strode across the street. For a minute, he considered running. It was, after all, only a mile and a half back home. He could cover that in ten minutes without any problem. He looked longingly in the direction of his house.

After a minute, Matt let out his breath and squared his shoulders. He needed to know what was going on, and he could hardly leave the cousins to do his dirty work just because he was scared.
The worst case would be the end of the world...

When he caught up with the pair, they had reached a side door and were crouched next to it. Oliver was digging in his pocket for something, so Matt stopped to pull the blue bowling shirt he’d borrowed from his dad out of his bag.

After he finished buttoning up the shirt, he returned to watching Oliver, who by this time had pulled out a brown leather case. It was about the size of a book, with darker brown ties on one side holding it shut. Oliver quickly undid the ties to expose what looked like several bumpy knives. The middle of each was an extended silver oval with nail-sized pins near either end.

Growing from each of these ends was a flat black metal piece. It was square for about an inch from the handle, then turned into a series of bumps that resembled a house key. Matt realized what the tools were for about the same time Oliver selected one and stuck it in the keyhole in the door.

Matt watched in fascination as Oliver chose another tool out of his packet, this one resembling a swan’s neck and head, and added that to the lock as well. He then wiggled both for a few seconds, a look of fierce concentration on his face. With a satisfied “ah”, he stood and removed the tools. He pulled the door open and, with a bow, gestured for Anna to precede him through the door. She did, giving him an impressed nod as she walked in. Matt couldn’t help but do the same.

They stepped into the landing of a stairwell. The stairs that extended in both directions were metal with a cylindrical handrail running alongside. The walls were painted a uniform eggshell, and fluorescent lights cast a dreary glow over the scene. The air had a faint scent of antiseptic that reminded Matt of the time he visited his grandpa in the hospital. It felt sterile and unwelcoming.

Matt returned his attention to his companions and realized they were both staring at him expectantly.

“What?” he asked.

“You said you had ideas for what to do,” Anna prompted.

“Oh, yeah. So we need to be obvious. It seems counterintuitive, but the more we act like we belong, the less we stand out. This means we turn on the lights, we walk normally, and we don’t try to keep the noise down. Not that we should be loud, but we don’t need to act stealthy, you know?”

The other two nodded.

“We also want to wear uniforms. I read online that people are less likely to remember our faces then. I couldn’t find any real uniforms, so I brought my dad’s old bowling league shirts.” He pulled the other two slightly crumpled shirts out of his backpack and offered them to Anna and Oliver.