Chapter 7
Jared bowed his head against the pew in front of him. Father Martin's sermon droned in the large space, filling the ears of the small crowd in the church. It was on Luke 15, Jared noted dully.
But his mind was anywhere but here. Normally he'd be upright, listening intently to find the lesson buried amidst the many words of the preacher. But today... Today he was saying goodbye.
It was strange to him. For many years, the church had been a sanctuary of peace to him. He had struggled, repented, been forgiven, and come back, year after year. But suddenly, he had been thrust into a place where that wouldn't work anymore.
He had come to terms with it, for the most part. If Father Martin was to be believed, or even Miss Senguine, he stood little chance of reaching any kind of heaven. At least, beyond this life.
His thoughts turned to Quinn, and, subsequently, to Kiara. He closed his eyes, picturing their faces in his mind. He'd known more happiness and grief in the past few weeks than in the rest of his life put together - and he wouldn't trade that in. Any heaven without Quinn in it just wasn't heaven to him.
Doubts still struggled in the back of his mind, and he sighed. He had nearly killed Kiara, or at least, severely hurt her. And the more he invested in this life, the stronger those impulses would become. Without a religious handhold, what was he supposed to hold to in order to stay as himself?
He tuned back into the sermon, letting his thoughts fade into the background.
Suddenly, a line jumped out at him as Father Martin read.
"Make to yourselves friends of the mammon of unrighteousness; that, when ye fail, they may receive you..."
He blinked. After a moment of shock, he quickly flipped open his Bible that he had left on the seat next to him.
Sure enough, Luke 16. The parable of the unjust steward.
He stared at it for a moment, unsure of what to think. A few weeks ago, he would have thought it was a sign.
He bit his cheek. Well, maybe it was. Or, at least, it was a sign enough for him. He looked up at the ceiling, and beyond, to the sky above. His doubts began to slowly fade, becoming little more than background noise.
Thank you
.
If that was you, at least.
He bowed his head once more. It was time to focus.
Senguine was insistent that he get more vassals - three, apparently, was far from enough. The other protΓ©gΓ©'s had offered themselves, which couldn't be overlooked. In fact, he had promised Annika that he would sleep with her by Tuesday.
And that was okay. He took a deep breath, feeling the fire within his gut roar softly as he focused on it. It was strong, but hungry. Ravenous, even. Like any fire, he needed to use it, not smother it, yet keep it well in check, lest it destroy everything around him.
He opened his eyes and sat up. The meeting was almost finished, and he wasn't feeling like hanging around for it to close. People might talk to him, ask him questions. Questions he couldn't really answer.
He scooted out of the pew and made his way to the exit, ignoring the stares. He could even feel Father Martin's gaze drilling into his back. But he didn't really care what they thought about him anymore.
As he entered the parking lot and began looking for his car, he froze. Leaning against it was Officer Mecham.
He hesitated, debating going back inside and waiting for the man to leave, but before he could decide, he was spotted.
Mecham pushed off the car and pushed his hands into his pockets. Jared sighed and slowly walked towards him. He supposed they needed to talk sooner rather than later.
The older man folded his arms as Jared approached. "There you are, Jared. It's been a while. Haven't seen you at Church lately."
Jared raised an eyebrow as he came to a stop a few feet away. "I didn't think you went to Church."
He grunted. "I don't."
Ah. So he had been looking for him.
Mecham sighed, his confrontational stance becoming more relaxed. "Jared, what's going on? First, you basically disappear, then I hear that you captured a minor, and then, to top it all off, you show up for a field trip that ends in a mysterious disaster." He put his hands back in his pockets. "You're not a normal case in any situation, but this has gotten weird, even for you." His eyes narrowed in concern. "Are you okay? Have you gotten tangled up in something?"
Jared shifted uncomfortably. "It's... complicated."
After several seconds of silence, Mecham spoke again. "Anything you can tell me about?"
Jared gave a pained smile. "Nothing that you would believe." Mecham was a very sound-minded man. He wasn't opposed to religion, but he wasn't interested on account of his practical views. He was cautious in what he believed, be it science or religion, or even cases that he dealt with. There was no way he was going to accept Jared's story, and he couldn't really think of a good lie that would adequately explain everything.
Mecham folded his arms. "Try me."
Jared shook his head. "Would you believe me if I said it had to do with demons?"
He raised an eyebrow. "I'd believe you thought it did. And I'd probably say you should find a good counselor." He frowned. "Or are we talking about a cult?"
When Jared didn't respond, he pressed further. "That man that was there the night your mother died... Something seemed off about him. Who was he?"
My father
. Jared shrugged. Sure, why not? "That was my father."
Mecham stared at him blankly. "Jared, I knew your father. He died a couple years after you were born."
Jared shook his head. "No, my birth father. I was adopted."
Mecham's eyes widened. "How did you learn about that?"
"Well, for one, you just confirmed it."
Mecham slapped his hand to his forehead. "You cheeky b****d."
Jared raised his eyebrows. "Language, sir. We're at a church."
Mecham stared at him. "You're still the same sweet kid I know." He scowled. "But you've clearly gotten tangled up in something you shouldn't have. Come on, Jared. Just tell me what's up!"
He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. "You mentioned a cult. It's... kind of like that."
Mecham nodded seriously. "So let me help you out."
Jared shook his head. "I don't want out, not really. And even if I did..." He pondered on the coming apocalypse. "I don't think there's anyway I could really leave."
Mecham huffed. "Nonsense. There's always a way out." He gestured to the church next to them. "Haven't those years of religion taught that to you?"
Jared pinched his nose. "Okay, look. I feel confident that there is NO WAY that you will understand my situation, or at least believe it." He walked up to the side of his car. "I'm going to leave now. Just know that I'm okay, alright?"
"I can't let you do that, Jared."
Faster than he could react, Mecham pounced, quickly putting him in a professional hold. "Look, you've got a lot of allegations, and I've got to bring you in. We should be able to get you a much lighter sentence, if anything. Especially if you've been coerced."
Jared tested the hold. Mecham was a large man, probably around twice his size. But he was probably stronger.
"Just tell us where Quinn is, Jared. Her parents are worried sick."
Jared didn't struggle. "She's safe, sir. And she's my wife now."
There was a pause. "She's not old enough to get married. Not without her parent's permission." Mecham grunted. "You married her illegally?"
"It was her idea."
Another pause. "Doesn't matter." He sighed. "I'm sorry to do this, Jared."
"No, I'm sorry, Mr. Mecham."
Jared slammed his head up into the man's nose, making sure to not seriously harm him. The blow was strong enough to weaken his grip, and Jared quickly broke free.
Mecham grunted and stumbled back, surprised. Jared quickly whipped around and grabbed his arms, roughly shoving him against the trunk of the car.
Mecham gasped and began struggling, but Jared's hands were like iron vices. He sent back a well-placed kick to Jared's kneecap, with little effect.
"What in blazes is going on here?! Are you on steroids or something?"
Jared smiled sadly. "Something like that. Look, I'm really sorry, Joe." Keeping one hand pinning the man, he raised one arm to knock him out, but hesitated.
Mecham didn't know about the coming apocalypse. He had been incredibly kind to Jared growing up. Even if he couldn't save everyone, Mecham should probably be on the top of his list. But he would never listen until it actually happened.
Jared sighed. "Do you happen to have a pen and paper?"
Mecham sighed and stopped his futile struggling, apparently recognizing his peculiar disadvantage. "In my front pocket. You could let me grab them...?"
Jared shook his head. "I could probably pin you again after, but I'd rather not hurt you anymore. That bloody nose looks painful enough as it is." He reached around and began rifling through the older man's pocket, retrieving his notepad and pen.
"This," Jared said, using Mecham's back as a table, "Is my number. I will accept only-" He paused. "Two calls. The first, because I know you won't be able to resist checking the number. But you won't be able to trace it, and I will not answer."
Mecham listened silently.
"The second call is for you personally. Don't use it to try to locate me or for some other stupid reason. You should only use it for one thing." He finished writing the number, along with a reminder. "When the world stops making sense, and your life is in danger, call me. I can help you."
He tucked the note, along with the pad and paper, back into the officer's pocket. "Seriously. That number could save your life. DO NOT," he emphasized, "Use it for nothing. Or I will never answer you again. Are we clear?"
"Jared, I-"
"Mecham."
There was a long pause. "I... understand. But what do you mean by-"
In a single motion, Jared raised his free hand and slammed the older man's head, forcing him into unconsciousness. He laid him down on the sidewalk, mindful to not slam his head.