Page 150 of Eternal Obsession

How terrible can death be?

Morning came with a shimmer of light, illuminating the vibrant stained glass windows.

I had waited and observed the hands turn on my watch face—irrevocably, silently. An array of colors flowed through illuminating the dark, vibrant blues and reds in an exquisite ancient design.

Too late to run.

Painful welts appeared on my skin.

With that small drop of light came a foreign scrape as stone grated against stone and the fireplace shifted, disrupting my panic. With the secret passageway exposed, I staggered through, fleeing the dawn into the dark corridor, shielded from the light. After several quick turns, I descended the stairwell, stopping abruptly before a heavy wooden doorway with its seventeenth-century baroque engravings. Behind me, I heard a grating as the fireplace settled back.

Blackness.

The door opened and I walked through, peering in. A tall figure stood silhouetted by the candlelight. I immediately recognized the priest from the cathedral. It was the way his face captured the light, lean and impossibly beautiful. Now, without his shield, the truth revealed itself, he was an eternal.

“Father Jake!” I said.

“Jadeon, come in,” he gestured.

Turning briefly, I closed the door and took in the room, admiring the luxurious décor. Large tapestries depicting music and dancing and marriages hung fast on the walls. Lush carpet covered the entire floor and the Victorian furniture offered up its generous hospitality. Father Jake guided me to an easy chair and invited me to sit. I was grateful to have a moment to rest, still reeling from both my recent attack and my tussle with Ingrid.

“Is he here?” I asked as I sunk into the soft seat.

“Catch your breath and then we’ll talk,” Father Jake replied.

“I have to get back to them.”

“You are still weak, Jadeon. You’ve lost a lot of blood.”

He was right. I had been fighting my fatigue, but it was fast catching up.

“The cuneiform,” I said. “You didn’t need to decipher it?”

“No,” he said.

“You came for me,” I said. “He sent you to find me.”

“He’s always watched over you,” Father Jake said. “His way is not to interfere.”

“Then why now?”

I have to fight this need to sleep.

“He will explain,” Father Jake said.

I looked around, trying to keep my eyes open.

I was filled with exhaustion, having made it this far, the echo of the attack still saturating my being. I knew falling asleep in this place was a risk, yet I could not fight the pull of it.

Gently, Jake placed his hands over my eyes and lulled me into a state of calm. “Lilly was your wife,” I realized. “The Stone Masters murdered her.”

A flicker of grief danced in his eyes.

“Am I safe?”

“When you awaken, you’ll be ready.”

The unsettling of my stinging flesh dragged me into unconsciousness.