Read Tortured: Book Three of the Jason and Azazel Trilogy Online
Authors: V. J. Chambers
Tortured: Book Three of the Jason and Azazel Trilogy (26 page)
* * *
Marlena still had a mat in front of her door. I still
thought it was silly. There wasn't any reason to wipe my feet on it. I knocked,
exhausted and sagging against her door frame. After an eternity passed, I
knocked again. Maybe she wasn't home. After the third knock with no answer, I
slid down the wall, curled up, and fell asleep.
I woke up to someone kicking me. "Wake up, you filthy bum," a British
accent was saying.
My eyes fluttered open. "Marlena," I said, struggling to my feet.
"You can't sleep in here," she was saying. "There's a shelter
just a few streets down."
"No," I said. "Marlena, it's me.
Azazel."
"
How do you know my name?" she demanded. She still looked
really pretty, with her flawless dark skin. But she didn't have her hair in
braids anymore. Instead, it was cut short. It clung to her head in tiny black
ringlets.
"I'm Jason's girlfriend," I said.
Her eyes widened in recognition. "You look awful!" she exclaimed,
fitting her key to the lock of her apartment and ushering me inside.
"Thanks," I said.
Marlena hung her keys up on the wall near the door. "Well, I didn't mean
it like that," she said. She was wearing a jacket, which she shed and
threw over one of her couches. Her apartment looked the same, incense and
tapestries. I breathed it in. I remembered how the first time I'd been here,
I'd found the place frightening and disturbing. Now it just seemed comforting.
"Why don't you sit down?" She gestured at her couches.
Gratefully, I settled on a couch. It was soft. I felt as if it hugged my body.
I relaxed into it, sighing. I hadn't realized how sore my body was from walking
all over
"Would you like some coffee?" she asked me.
I sat up. "That would be awesome," I said. I did need to wake up. Who
knows how much time I'd lost? I had to get to Jason as soon as possible.
Marlena disappeared into the kitchen. I heard the noise of water coming from a
faucet.
The click of a coffee maker switching on.
"So what are you doing here?" she asked. "Where's Jason?"
"Jason's in
I said. "They're going to kill him."
Marlena rushed back into the living room. "What did you say?"
"I've got to get there," I said. "I've got to stop them."
She sat down on the couch beside me. "You back up," she said.
"And you tell me everything. Who's got Jason? What are they going to do to
him?"
I explained as best as I could. While I was talking, the coffee finished
brewing and Marlena brought us both a cup. We filled them with packets of sugar
and single serving creamers. Marlena stole them from fast food restaurants. The
coffee was strong, but I made it sweet with about four packets of sugar. As the
hot liquid coursed through my body, I could feel myself becoming more alert. I
sped through the rest of my explanation.
Marlena was upset. She paced in the living room, holding her cup of coffee.
"So you think this Weem person has Jason's exact location?"
"I'm pretty sure."
She took a long drink of coffee. "We're going to need passports," she
said.
"And a credit card with a pretty high limit.
But I think I have one."
"
We?"
I said.
"I'm coming with you," she said. "You think I'm going to let
Jason be offed by those prigs that have been chasing him all this time? Jason
is like the little brother I never had. I won't let anything happen to
him."
Well. I'd seen Marlena load a rifle once. She seemed like she could handle
herself in a fight. I didn't think she'd slow me down. "Okay," I
said. "You can come with me."
"You don't have to give me permission," she said. "I wasn't
asking for it."
I considered. "What about guns? Can you get us guns?"
Marlena hesitated. "Well, I know someone who can." She set her coffee
down on the coffee table and went back down the hall. She came back with a
credit card, which she handed to me. "I'm going out," she said.
"I'll be back with passports and guns. You book the tickets. Book them for
this afternoon. And use the name on the credit card for the tickets. And for
yours, give yourself the same last name and, I don't know, what do you want to
be called?"
"Wait," I said. "If we have the same last name, that would mean
we're related."
"
Your point?"
"
Well, I don't know if people are going to believe that you and I
are—"
"Oh for Heaven's sake. Maybe your parents adopted a little black girl from
You ever think about that?"
I shrugged. "Okay."
"Your name is Jane," she said.
"Is that all right?"
"Sure," I said.
* * *
Edgar Weem was living in an old stone cottage opposite
St. Brigid's Cathedral in
Kildare
The little house itself looked sweet and charming, like something
out of a storybook.
It had window boxes with brightly colored flowers
growing in them. The door was white with a quaint iron handle on it. Next to
the house was a fenced in garden. I'd expected Edgar Weem to be like an evil
warlord, presiding over an ancient castle with a mote or something. The little
house didn't seem to fit his personality.
Marlena and I, who were still adjusting to the time change after flying across
the Atlantic, had landed in
Then we'd arranged transportation to Weem's house. Our flight had taken about
six hours. It had taken about an hour to get to Kildare. For us, it felt like
sometime after midnight. In
would be awake yet, but we didn't care.
I rapped on the door. To my surprise, the door opened immediately. Edgar Weem
stood there. He was wearing his robe, holding a cup of coffee. He had a
receding hairline and his hair was going gray around his temples. But—and here
was the weird thing—he was definitely the same man I'd dreamed about and
envisioned when I'd been talking to Agnes. I'd almost convinced myself that the
whole experience with Agnes had been a dream. I thought maybe it was nothing
more than a product of my subconscious. But this was definitely the same guy.
Just eighteen years older.
Edgar Weem made an apologetic face. "Sorry," he said. "I don't
want any." He started to close the door.
Marlena wedged her gun in the doorway, blocking the door. "We're not
selling anything," she growled.
Edgar Weem opened the door wider again. He looked alarmed.
"We're coming in now," said Marlena. She pushed past Edgar. I
followed her. Marlena was really super cool. We'd had a little bit of time to
chat on the plane, and she'd told me stories about Jason when he was a little
boy, how he'd helped her and her dad with faking car registrations. I was glad
that Jason had someone like this. He'd never had a family. Having someone like
Marlena was good though. I liked her.
Edgar closed the door behind us, holding one arm in the air and clutching his
coffee cup with the other. "I'm afraid I don't know what's going on,"
he said.
"We're here about Jason," said Marlena. "You're going to help
us."
"Jason?" said Edgar. He lowered his hands. "You must be Marlena.
And you're Azazel, then?"
So he knew about us?
Both of us?
I expected him to
know about me.
But Marlena?
"How do you know who we are?" I wanted to know.
"Well, I've kept close tabs on Jason throughout his life. If two women
with guns burst into my apartment talking about him, you two are really the
only two choices I would have." He smiled at us. "It's good to meet
you both at last." He offered us his hand, the one that wasn't holding his
coffee.
Marlena and I looked at his proffered hand and then looked at each other. We
both tucked our guns into the waist of our pants (Marlena had gotten me some
clothes, so I wasn't wearing the horrid nightgown anymore) and folded our arms
over our chests.
"Let's get something straight," said Marlena. "We don't like
you."
"You're pretty much a shoo-in for the Worst Father in the Universe
Award," I added.
"We're here for information. That's all," said Marlena.
Edgar withdrew his hand. "All right, then," he said cheerily.
"Can I get the two of you some coffee?"
"No," I said. "For all we know, you'll drug it."
"I'd like some coffee," said Marlena. "I'll make it myself. You
watch Weem."
"Sure," I said. "Have a seat, Edgar."
The inside of Edgar Weem's cottage was just as charming as the outside. There
was a small sitting room filled with overstuffed couches and bookshelves. In
the corner, there was a working fireplace, although it wasn't burning. Edgar
made his way there and sat down. He threw one of his arms over the back of the
couch, thoroughly at ease. "Why don't you come and sit with me,
Azazel?" he said. "I'd love to get a look at you. You're a very
pretty girl. I can see why Jason's so taken with you."
My eyes narrowed. I was beginning to see why both Michaela Weem and my
grandmother had found Edgar Weem so charming. I didn't move. Instead, I just
put my hand on the butt of my gun warningly.
"Oh, Azazel," he said with a jovial laugh. "You can relax,
really. I'm on your side."
Chapter Fifteen
To: Edgar Weem
From: Renegade Son
Subject: Jason and Azazel
Edgar
,
I've gotten a message on my phone from Azazel. She says she and Jason are in
trouble and she wants my help. Do you have any idea where they are or how to
reach them? I'm beside myself with worry.
Hallam
"Listen Edgar," I said. "You are
definitely not on my side."
"Call me Ted, please," he said.
Marlena poked her head out of the kitchen. "Get him to tell you where the
headquarters are," she said.
Right.
I went into the sitting room and sat on a chair
opposite Edgar Weem. "We're only here for one reason," I said.
"We need you to give us a location."
"You don't believe me, do you?" he asked. "You really think I'm
out to get you?"
"I don't care," I said. "I already know more about you than I'd
like. I've read Michaela's diary and talked to my grandmother and, well,
eww."
He laughed again, a deep chuckle. When he smiled he had little smile lines
around his eyes. He looked like a harmless uncle. I didn't like it. "Can I
explain to you?" he asked. "Can I tell you why I've done what I've
done?"
"Marlena," I called, "how long is that coffee going to
take?"
"Not long," she said. "If I can figure out this crazy European
contraption, it'll be ready in a jiff."
Okay, then. That sounded like it might be a while. I glared at Edgar Weem.
"I guess I can't stop you," I said. "But I don't see how you
could really explain anything. You've manipulated everyone around you just to
get power. Now that you don't have any, I guess you want to be friends."
"You've got it all wrong," said Edgar. "I never wanted
power." He sighed then, and looked sad, suddenly. "No, I often wish
I'd never gotten the power that I did. It changes a man, not always for the
better. But I've made sacrifices.
For the greater good,
though, Azazel.
I think you'll realize that."
He settled comfortably on the couch. "Let's see," he said. "How
shall I start?" He mused for a second, scratching his chin.
(Really).
"I suppose you know about the longstanding
feud between the Weems and the Hoyts, don't you?"
"My grandmother told me about it," I said.
"Do you know why it started?"
I shook my head.
Like I cared.
"Well," said
Edgar, "I suppose you know that the Sons are an offshoot of the Order of
Reddimus, since you stayed with them in
"Yes," I said. "I heard about that."
"Well," said Edgar, "the Sons left because they were angry with
the Church for creating the Jesuits. This was in the 1500s. I assume you're
familiar with the Jesuits?"
"Uh . . . something to do with the Spanish Inquisition, right?"
He laughed. "Indeed. The Reddimus monks had been created to combat
paganism, but it was no longer an issue with the Church. Instead, the issue in
the 1500s was Protestantism. The Church created the Jesuits to combat that
issue. They no longer needed the Order of Reddimus. The original members of the
Sons were so outraged at having been supplanted that they stole a large amount
of money from the Church, and they used it to create a business. They became
money lenders. Eventually, they started a bank. They became very wealthy
indeed."
Great.
Wonderful.
Who cared?
"Look, really, all we want to know is—"
"Wait, let me continue," said Edgar. "Where was I? Oh, yes, so
the Sons of the Rising Sun were always wealthy men. And they had an enormous
amount of power. This wealth and power only grew. With the establishment of
centralized banks in European countries in the early part of the twentieth
century, the Sons were able to create powerful holds on the governments of
major world leaders. They controlled countries, not just money. This was big
business and also big power. Lots of money and lots of power are always a bad
combination.
"The Hoyts have always been a premier family in the Sons, and they began
talking amongst the other members about what they could do with this influence.
The Sons had always concerned themselves with the era of the Rising
Sun,
a period of time they felt would overtake the world and
change it for the better. The Hoyts saw this period as a time when a global
government could be implemented—a New World Order."
"Did they own the Federal Reserve Bank in the
Weem raised an eyebrow. "Well, yes. Members of the Sons did."
"I've heard this before. This is Conspiracy Theory 101," I said. In
my
Da Vinci Code
phase,
I'd gotten really into stuff like the Freemasons and the Illuminati. Against my
better judgment, I found myself getting interested in what Weem was saying.
"All right, then," said Weem. "But I bet you haven't heard this
part. My family, the Weems, didn't think this was a very good idea. We were
staunchly on the side of democracy and not manipulating people with our money.
Of course, we'd always thought the Rising Sun prophecy to be about a
person
,
not a metaphor or time period. We were vocal in our opposition to both the
Hoyts and the idea that the Rising Sun would be a period of time when the Sons
ruled the world.
"Our dissension held off action for decades, but the discussion of a
global government continued. I became increasingly frightened when the discussion
began to become more and more serious in the late 1980s. I looked into the
prophecies about the Rising Sun deeply. I discovered what I thought was proof
that the Rising Sun would be born in the twentieth century. But even this
discovery didn't stop the rumbling and scheming of this New World Order. And I
became nearly frantic when I learned that the Sons were planning something for
2012. You know the date, yes?"
I nodded.
"Yeah.
The world's gonna end. Or
there's going to be a polar shift or something."
"The Sons have access to a weapon that uses scalar electromagnetics. This
is a very powerful technology that can disrupt gravity. They plan to use it in
2012 to create a global disaster that will very much resemble a polar shift. In
the aftermath, they will swoop down to care for a wounded planet, and erect
themselves rulers of everything."
I shook my head slowly, trying to absorb what he'd just said. "The Sons
are going to destroy the world?"
"Not the whole world," he said. "But many people will die. It
will be a crisis unlike anything we've ever seen. And the significance of its
occurrence in 2012, with the end of the Mayan calendar and the
pseudo-scientific rumblings about this polar shift, will mean that what's left
of the world won't think to question what's going to happen.
"I knew I needed to stop this. I now believed that the Rising Sun was to
end the terrible reign of the Sons, not help cement their power in the world. I
began to search desperately for the Rising Sun, pouring over prophecies. I was
half insane in my desire to stop the Sons. I had discovered a link in my own
genealogy and the blood line of King Arthur—"
"Yeah, Moretti told us about that. And I read Michaela's diary. So I know
it was 'her idea' for the two of you to conceive Jason. But I don't care. She
was in love with you and you treated her—"
"You don't think I was in love with her?" asked Edgar. "I
married the woman didn't I? I fathered two children with her. It's not that I
didn't care about her. But you must realize that the safety of the world
trumped my own feelings for her or even for our own son. I knew what Jason had
to become. He had to grow to be a fierce warrior who could destroy an
organization like the Sons. I had to devote myself to making sure he was ready.
It wasn't easy. He was my son. Of course I didn't want to expose him to the
dangers I exposed him to. But I had to prepare him for his work.
His very vital work."
So I was just supposed to forgive Weem for everything now?
Because
he was trying to save the world?
Marlena came in from the kitchen with two cups of coffee. She handed one to me.
"Thanks," I said. "Are you hearing this?"
"Sure," she said. She shrugged. "I always knew Jason was
special. If I had to pick someone to save the world, I'd pick him."
I bit my lip. No. It wasn't right. "You're all so stupid," I said.
Marlena jerked her head to face me.
"Not you, Marlena," I said. I stood up, taking a long swig of my
coffee. It was black and bitter, but I didn't care. "I mean you guys.
Edgar.
Michaela.
My grandmother.
You're all stupid. And you're cowards. My grandmother was mad at you because
you broke off your affair with her and then moved on to Michaela.
And so she screwed up Michaela's head, ruined my life, and has been
trying to get Jason killed for his whole life."
"
Wait," said Edgar. "Arabella is trying to kill
Jason?"
"You blackmailed her," I said. "You think she wasn't
pissed?"
He looked troubled.
I wasn't finished. "Michaela Weem wanted Jason dead. So, she convinced my
parents and a town full of people that I was a Vessel of Azazel and that I was
supposed to kill Jason. And you, Edgar—
Ted
—you
wanted to save the world. So you went around
after abusive situation, trying to turn him into a killing machine.
"You know what's wrong with all of you?" I demanded. "You won't
take responsibility for your actions, and you won't get your hands dirty. Ted,
I'm gonna have to repeat what Cornelius Agricola said to me.
Why
didn't you just set a fucking bomb?!"
Edgar was quiet for a second. Then he cleared his throat. "You can't
understand, Azazel, how very powerful the Sons are. There was simply no way
that I—"
"No," I said. "Don't make excuses. There is no reason to screw
up so many other people's lives just because you don't think you can handle the
problem. You're clearly a smart guy, Edgar. I can't help but think that there
was some way you could have figured out how to take the Sons down yourself. But
you left it to Jason. And so, when you go to sleep at night, I hope that you
see the faces of all the people that Jason and I have had to kill.
And the faces of all the people who have died trying to protect us.
Because you know what?
They're all on your hands. You
started this. And you didn't have the guts to even finish it."
I sat down on the couch. "Now," I said, "you're going to tell us
the location of the Sons' headquarters, so that I can go there and save my
boyfriend."