2 The Judas Kiss Read online

  “I knew about Mark and Judas,” Asclepius said, his voice high with wonder at the revelation that Abby lived. “I figured you two were here about that. I tried to warn you, but Greg wouldn’t let me through. I left a note, but the ass didn’t bother to check it until well after the bomb had gone off.”

  “Who tipped you off?” Ben asked.

  Asclepius gave him a knowing look and took a long drink from his scotch. “Look, things are complicated right now, and my position is pretty precarious. All of us who are sort of neutral, if you will, are toeing a fine line. You know that old Christian myth, about the war in heaven and the angels who fought with Lucifer were cast out?”

  Ben gave a shrug. “Vaguely.”

  “I suppose this is probably something similar,” he replied with a sigh. “Nike is one of the oldest out of our kind, and if she succeeds in her plan, we’re all screwed.”

  “From what Andrew says, if Nike succeeds in her plans, our existence is screwed,” Ben said darkly. “I can’t say I fully believe him, or really understand what he’s talking about, but after the shit I saw last year…” Ben trailed off and shook his head. Asclepius quickly poured a second drink, which Ben took with a grateful smile. He tipped half the contents back and let his shoulders relax a little. “I don’t know, but at this point, I’m not taking any chances. Part of me was ready to let the world go to hell, and I think he knew that. I think that’s why he told me that my sister was alive.”

  Asclepius glanced over at the cracked opening in the wall and then stared back at Ben. “Does Stella know?”

  Ben’s cheeks went slightly pink at the mention of her name and he let out a breath. “That’s complicated.”

  “So you found out,” Asclepius said and smiled a little. He crushed out his cigar and pulled another from the box. Drawing it to his nose, he took a long whiff, but didn’t move to light it. “You shouldn’t be so angry with her.”

  “You knew the entire time and I completely ignored you,” Ben said and then shook his head. “Well Greg knew, I mean. Same difference.”

  “We are absolutely not the ‘same difference’,” he said, using air-quotes. “But yes, we both knew. We can always spot one of our own kind.”

  “It was my fault for not listening,” Ben said softly.

  “But you blame her?”

  “She could have said something,” Ben said sharply, and he took a deep puff from the cigar. “She had so much time to just say something. Anything.”

  Asclepius laughed, shaking his head, and he gave Ben a look of pity. “Idiot. You wouldn’t have believed her and you would have written her off like one of us and she wouldn’t have been able to do anything to help you.”

  “She didn’t end up doing anything at all,” Ben said a little meanly. “She gave me false confidence in my own personal, ignorant beliefs which led to my sister…”

  “Surviving?” Asclepius offered, and he held up his hands in surrender at Ben’s withering glare. “Look, if you had believed us, if we’d converted you just like we converted poor little Abby, you’d probably be walking around like some god’s personal sock puppet right now, and we’d be more fucked than we already are. Stella did you a favor, okay. And you said so yourself, Abby is alive. No sense in losing all hope just yet.”

  Ben opened his mouth to argue, his nerves still raw and frayed from the recent events, but before he could say a word, the entire building shook. A violent roar sounded through the office, tossing Ben to the floor, the cigar rolling away, his glass on its side, contents pouring into the carpet.

  Ben’s head spun, his ears ringing, and he lost his balance as he tried to stand. Squinting through one open eye, he could see Asclepius standing against the back wall, his face a mask of terror. Ben felt for his gun, but found it missing.

  It only took a moment for him to regain his bearings and Ben stood, looking around in a near panic. His ears were still ringing so loud he could hear nothing else, his heart pounding, and adrenaline coursing through him. He was certain it was an attack, and he felt naked without his weapon.

  A moment passed before Andrew walked out of the open portal room, and his face was drawn. He was speaking, but Ben couldn’t hear a word he was saying. Ben shook his head, pointing to his ears which the thought might have been bleeding. They felt wet inside, but Ben’s fingers came out clean when he reached up to inspect them.

  Andrew gave a visible sigh and approached Ben. Touching the side of his head, Ben felt his vision give a lurch, and as suddenly as it started, the ringing cleared and everything in the room sounded too loud. “What happened?” Ben asked, keeping his voice deliberately low.

  “Just a…” Andrew hesitated, casting a short glare at the opening to the portal. “A slight disagreement, if you will.”

  “Did you find anything out?” Ben asked, rubbing his temples with the tips of his fingers. He still felt a bit dizzy and knew if he tried to walk he’d probably fall over.

  “A little,” Andrew said. “Unfortunately my contact is being less than helpful in this situation.” Andrew glanced over at Asclepius who hadn’t moved from his spot by the wall. “No one’s going to kill you. Yet.”

  Asclepius visibly relaxed, but he still didn’t move. “Not comforting.”

  Ben, still shaking a bit, reached over and righted the fallen chair so he could lean on it for support. The office was a bit of a mess, books knocked off the shelf, and the papers on Greg’s desk littered the floor against the wall. Ben took a few deep breaths and asked, “What was that?”

  “The wrath of an ancient,” Andrew said with a wave of his hand. “We need to go.”

  “Where?”

  “We need lodgings. My time in the portal exhausted this body, and the only information I got is that your friends are more than likely in this city.” Andrew started for the door, leaving Asclepius trembling near the wall.

  Ben cast him one last look before hurrying out after Andrew, saying nothing until they were outside in the chilly night air. Andrew started forward, but Ben stood firm outside the front doors, arms crossed over his chest. “What happened in there?” he demanded again, making it clear he wasn’t going anywhere without some answers.

  Andrew growled but turned, fixing dark eyes on Ben. “My contact knew where your friends are being kept, but wouldn’t give me the information. You could say he’s a bit weary of this world and isn’t sold on the idea of keeping this planet turning. However, I was able to extract a little information out of him before sending him hurtling back through the portal. Your friends are more than likely in this city because as far as Nike and her little friends can tell, the only accessible portal is in Greg’s office. That’s bad for them, seeing as Greg’s portal no longer has enough energy to draw anything into this world. It could barely sustain a connection to the other side.”

  “But there are others?”

  “Three, I believe,” Andrew said, turning his face up to the sky. “I’m not completely certain, though. I don’t believe that Nike’s consciousness is as tuned in to the other side as mine is, so it’s likely she doesn’t know of any others that exist.” Andrew began walking toward the car again, and this time, Ben followed.

  He didn’t say anything until they were on the road, the heater blasting in hopes of calming down Ben’s intermittent shivers. It was adrenaline, mostly, and raw nerves, and all Ben really wanted was a stiff drink and a hot meal.

  Luckily San Diego didn’t have a shortage of nice hotels, and they chose one on Mission Bay. It was a resort on the water that luckily had a couple of two-room suites available, despite the tourist population starting to pick up. Andrew looked absolutely ready to collapse, so Ben suggested that he take a shower and sleep.

  For his part, Ben ventured out into the cold night, making his way to the waterside restaurant overlooking the bay. It was a quaint place with most of the seating outdoors. They had large patio heaters, which Ben found soothing as he took a seat at the very edge of the restaurant’s railings and ordered a whiskey so
ur and a large plate of the restaurant’s famed deep fried brussels sprouts.

  They weren’t actually very good at all, but the following bowl of rich cream of asparagus soup more than made up for it, and he savored it as he listened to the soft splashing of the bay waters sloshing on the sides of the boats docked nearby. The night was clear, the stars out in full force, and the half-moon shone fiercely on the black waters out in the distance.

  Despite the chaos raging around him, Ben took a moment to appreciate the serene moment, knowing they were often few and far between. He remembered taking Abby for walks on the beach when she was younger. It was his way of soothing her when boys were mean to her at school, and girls made fun of her because she wasn’t interested in fashion or music, or anything that was considered popular or trendy.

  She had always been such a good girl. Not ever really the smartest, but she was a good person, and those were so rare now. It was no surprise to him, not really, that Abby had been targeted. He never would have guessed what would have targeted her, but he always knew that one day her naivety and innocence would be her undoing.

  “Can’t beat this view, can you?” came a sudden female voice, shaking Ben from his thoughts.

  Ben looked up from his table at a woman leaning on the railing near his table. She was standing with her face partly in the shadows, but her hair was dark, tied in a neat bun at the nape of her neck. She was wrapped up in a very thick, grey sweater, and from what Ben could see, she wasn’t much younger than he was. She was also English, if her accent was anything to go by, which wasn’t odd as San Diego boasted a wide variety of tourists as the season picked up.

  “I like it,” Ben finally replied to her, realizing the silence had stretched on for so long it had become awkward.

  She gave a little laugh and turned to him. In the dim porch light, Ben made out thin features, small nose, mouth naturally turned down at the corners. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a packet of cigarettes and raised an eyebrow at him. “Don’t mind, do you? I’m not entirely sure about the rules here regarding smoking.”

  “I won’t say a word if you pass me one,” Ben said, unable to resist the temptation.

  With a grin, she slid one out of her pack for him, and without invite, she plopped down in the chair across from him. “By yourself, then?” she asked as she lit her cigarette and then passed over her small, sliver lighter.

  Ben lit the small stick and inhaled deeply. The rush of smoke and nicotine hit him hard, and for a moment he felt guilty, but it was the best kind of guilt. He blew the smoke out in a huge plume and passed her lighter back. “I’m here with a friend.”

  “Friend?” she asked, waggling her eyebrows.

  “Not that kind of friend,” Ben said with a slight chuckle. He took another drink of his whiskey and gave a hum of satisfaction as the liquid burned going down. “I’m Ben, by the way.”

  “Olivia,” she said and extended her free hand. “You local, or visiting like me?”

  “I’m from San Francisco. I had to drive down for… work,” he finished lamely.

  “Hmm, what do you do, Ben?”

  “Detective,” he said absently, his eyes trailing back over the water. It occurred to him suddenly that he might want to be suspicious of her. Ben wasn’t an unattractive guy, but he was the kind of guy who gave off the vibe that said, ‘don’t approach me’, more often than not. It was entirely possible that she was part of the whole tangled web of gods and immortals, and Ben didn’t want to add to his god numbers at the moment.

  “Detective, interesting,” she said, pausing to puff on her cigarette a moment. “Bit more exciting than I’ve got. Nanny, since you asked,” she said, and winked when he chanced a look at her. “My sister married an American and offered me a ridiculous wage to help parent her brood whilst she finishes her Ph.D. I accepted and spend my days seething in jealousy that she was born far smarter than I can ever hope to be, and try not to cry myself to sleep every night knowing I’m thirty-two and a bloody baby-sitter.”

  Ben couldn’t help the little snort of laughter and he finally looked at her full on. He’d been fooled before, by all of the gods in fact, but he was trying to hone his senses, to tell when someone was occupied by something unnatural, and at the moment, this Olivia seemed perfectly fine. “To tell the truth, I’d trade any day. I work in homicide,” Ben said. He crushed out the dying embers of the cigarette butt and accepted a second when Olivia offered it.

  “Bit drunk, are you?” she asked. “I always smoke too much when I’m drunk.”

  “I’m on my way,” Ben said, tipping his glass in her direction. On a whim he asked, “Are you hungry or thirsty?”

  “We spent the entire day at that theme park with the whales,” Olivia said, wrinkling her nose. “I’m afraid I’m stuffed full of fried food and popcorn. I wouldn’t say no to a glass of wine though.”

  Ben got his server’s attention through the large glass windows, and before long, he was sipping on his third whiskey sour and Olivia was toying with the top of her wine glass. They had made small talk for some time now, Ben avoiding every and all detail about his life, and Olivia telling him about her failed marriage, failed writing career, and constant envy of all of her married, successful, child-bearing friends.

  When the restaurant closed, the pair of them strolled down to the dock, Ben too drunk to feel the piercing cold in the slight breeze, but not drunk enough to be acutely aware that Olivia was starting to walk a little closer to him than he cared for.

  “This was nice,” she said, nudging him with her elbow. “I don’t often chat-up total strangers sitting alone in restaurants.” They paused, Ben attempting to prepare a cordial, kind rejection for her. “It’s really dark though, so I suppose you still have the option to kill me. Or kiss me.”

  She took a step toward him and Ben took a step back. “I’m seeing someone,” he blurted.

  Olivia’s following step faltered and her arms dropped to her sides. “Oh.”

  “I didn’t mean to lead you on,” Ben said swiftly. “It’s just been a really shitty few weeks and I was really enjoying some conversation.” That wasn’t a lie at all. Ben was certain that Olivia was god-free, and it had been a long time since Ben had been able to just talk. Talk about nothing and everything, and there was no ulterior motive, no weight of the world behind it.

  He was going to have to go back to his hotel room soon, to face Andrew, to form a plan and to continue searching for Mark and Judas before the world imploded, or whatever was set to happen. For just that night he wanted to forget that he may need to actually try and stop some unknown force from obliterating humanity, an Olivia had given him that.

  She was silent, clearly hurt, but he could see her smile in the soft light of the sidewalk lamps. “That’s okay,” she said with a breath. “I mean, you’re being honest and that’s great. I guess I was just kind of being hopeful that some cute bloke all alone in a restaurant might actually be unattached and interested in some divorcee with resentment issues.”

  Ben gave a slight laugh and reached out to squeeze her shoulder. “With that smile and cute accent, I don’t think you’re going to have trouble with dating here. You’ll probably have to wade through a few douche bags first, but we all have our crosses to bear.”

  Olivia gave a small, appreciative laugh, and ignoring Ben’s uncomfortable shuffling, she dug into her purse and pulled out a scrap of paper. She wrote down a number and with a firm gesture, insisted he take it. “Look, you’re nice and you didn’t treat me like I was insane, and you didn’t talk to me like I was a child when you rejected me. So if your lady friend doesn’t work out, call me. I can’t promise I’ll still be unattached, but how often does an opportunity like this arise?”

  Against his better judgment, Ben slipped the paper into his pocket and said goodnight to the woman. He shoved his hands into his pockets and began the slow trek back to his hotel room. He wondered what it would be like if he actually had room in his life to worry about relations
hip problems. If maybe his only issue with Stella was that her work was too demanding, or she lived too far.

  Instead, Ben had to deal with the fact that his would-be girlfriend was sometimes possessed by a god, and that god might have something to do with the disappearance and attempted murder of his friends and his sister. He had to worry that she’d suddenly lose control over her consciousness and some psychotic being would take over and try and kill him.

  Ben had no intention of calling Olivia ever again, but the number was a reminder that life was normal once, and with any luck, could head in that direction again.

  Andrew was snoring loudly as Ben stepped into their suite. Ben walked into the second room and shut the door. Stripping, he put on the shower as hot as he could stand it and let the water run over him until his fingers began to wrinkle. The hotel soap in the tiny bottles smelled overly citrus, like grapefruit and oranges, and he could still smell it strongly as he toweled off, his feet splayed across the cold tiles of the bathroom floor.

  He hesitated at the sight of the hotel robe, but he had nothing else to wear, and he always kind of had a thing about wearing clothes for more than a day. He slipped on the itchy terry cloth, tied the belt and sat down on the bed. It was more comfortable than most hotel beds he’d slept on, and the TV was new and expensive.

  Pushing the button on the remote, it turned on to the local news. A kidnapping from a local hospital, three patients had gone missing. Ben cursed under his breath. He didn’t need the details to know exactly what was going on, and he looked over at his phone, terrified that at any minute his boss would phone him. He, after all, had worked all of the hospital murders. The cases were supposed to have been solved. He assumed it had been Stella who filed the reports of the missing bodies being used in experimentation at the compound. No use in telling the public that the brain-dead patients were the puppets of ancient Greek gods.

  Ben laughed at the absurdity of the thought and flipped channels. He settled on a show where some overly-excited man was traveling the country, visiting sandwich shops and diners, and drooling over food that was sure to kill him in less than five years.