Chapter 9
NINE
FENRIR
PRESENT
“It’s pretty basic, but it’ll do the job. And I’ve packed you a few extras.” Markus pats a large duffel bag. “There’s a semiautomatic rifle in here along with a sniper rifle and an assault gun.”
I raise an eyebrow, wondering what Markus knows that I don’t. I already have my handgun, a Colt .45—a government model that’s never let me down—and my personal gun, which only I know about. It’s a Glock 19 9mm compact that I never go anywhere without.
“You think we’ll need them?” I ask.
“I’d rather you didn’t, but the mountain is home to all sorts of… animals. It might not just be the Castros you need to protect yourselves from.” It’s not the word animals that unnerves me but the pause beforehand, as if that wasn’t quite the word he was looking for.
“Understood.” When I stoop to pick up my bag, Markus puts his hand over mine, stopping me momentarily as he stares from under his baseball cap.
“Don’t hesitate out there, Therion. Trust your instincts.
You think something isn’t right, you act on it.
I’m not sure what the Wi-Fi will be like, but there are radios and our internal coms system.
Someone will be on the other end, day or night.
You keep in touch. Regular on-the-hour debriefs, do you understand? ”
I’m used to Markus giving me the low-down, treating me like the newbie I still am.
But this speech is different. His eyes hold me as if gripping my chin to make sure I’m listening to every word, words that sound like they mean something entirely different.
Immediately, I’m reminded of Belial House, the way Junko reacted just an hour ago when Devall said its name.
The way the blood rushed from her face, leaving it pale and lifeless, not dissimilar to the shade Markus is now.
Markus has been with the family for years. He started as a bodyguard, just like me, but worked his way up to head of the security team.
Has he been to Belial House? Does he know what awaits us?
“Yes.” There’s a brief second that I consider asking him why this place has such a bad rep, but the last thing I want is to feed my imagination. We’re already bringing two shadows of death with us —my own dark mark along with Hayami’s. There’s no room for any more strangeness.
“I want to know everything that goes on out there, Therion. Everything. Because the last thing I need is the boss breathing down my neck when I’m in the dark as to what’s going on with Hayami, do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He takes his hand from mine and slaps me on the shoulder. “Don’t let me down.”
There’s something final in his tone, like he’s sending me off to war rather than up a mountain.
No more words are exchanged.
We load up in silence, the weight of whatever awaits us clinging to the air like static. The drive to the private airfield is uneventful, but my thoughts aren’t. Markus’s warning keeps circling in my head, echoing louder than the roar of the engines as the plane warms up on the tarmac.
By the time we’re airborne, the mood has shifted.
Money means no questions asked. I’ve come to realise this in the six months I’ve worked for Barrett Devall. And this evening is no exception.
No one asked us why we were bundling a drugged woman onto a private plane.
No one asked us where we were taking her or why.
And when we landed, the guy who rented us the car never batted an eyelid at our comatose companion, who Willa is now supporting in the back seat as I drive us to the infamous Belial House.
Mountains surround the valley of Hellion Vale like two hands clasped together, holding us in their grasp. I’m not sure yet whether this feels safe—like a bird caught in human hands, unsure whether they’re kind or deadly.
It’s when we leave the flat terrain and start to climb the winding road up the side of Hellion Ridge that the atmosphere shifts. The rising altitude only intensifies the tension in the Jeep, the blacked-out windows sealing us in as the four-wheel drive pushes us higher up the mountain.
The sky is raven black, the trees swaying in the breeze as if they’re tittering to one another.
Reminding myself that it has been a hell of a long night, I blink away the image of the gossiping trees as we head towards our destination.
It can’t be much further.
The wheels grip the road like mountaineering boots, determined to get us to Belial House. Any higher and we’ll need oxygen tanks.
As we round what feels like the twentieth corner, the road widens, and a clearing appears as the satnav announces that we’ve reached our destination.
I pull the car into the driveway and try to get a look at the house, but even with the headlamps, it’s hidden amongst the darkness, which is so thick I can almost touch it.
I’m the first to get out of the car. There’s no porch light to welcome us, no lamps in the windows, no cosy fire roaring from within. We’re met instead by a towering structure: obsidian windows, a large, uninviting door, and a coldness I can already feel in my bones.
Any relief I felt at having finally arrived is quickly smothered by the sombre surroundings.
“Maybe we should be thankful it’s night,” Willa says as she climbs out of the car. “At least we can’t see the house properly.”
I pull Hayami from the back seat, where she’s been unconscious for the entire journey. I clutch her to my chest, relieved she isn’t awake to see this. The building is so still, which strikes me as odd—as if it’s watching us, waiting for us to come inside before it reveals itself.
“What’s the plan?” Willa asks, her eyes taking in the sheer bleakness of our surroundings—the tall trees, the dampness of the earth beneath our feet, the gibbous moon glowing above us—anything other than looking at the house we must enter.
“We’ll take Hayami in, get some lights and heat on, and I’ll bring the rest of the luggage in. You stay with her in case she wakes.”
Willa looks at the sleeping Hayami in my arms. “She’s going to freak when she wakes.”
“She’ll be groggy from the sedative,” I say. She usually wakes up a bit cloudy and confused. “It’ll be later, once she’s fully come around, when it hits her.”
“Something to look forward to.” Willa exhales, and I note the new lines that have sprung up around her eyes. Worry’s etched into her forehead, the gravity of her situation weighing heavily on her shoulders. “You ready?” She stares at the house as if she’s gearing herself up to enter.
“We can’t stand out here all night,” I reply, wishing we could do just that.
We approach the house. Willa finds the keys in a key safe on the wall and pushes open the large wooden door.
The smell hits me first.
Damp. Cold. Forgotten.
“According to the plans, there’s a large living area straight through those double doors,” Willa says, wrinkling her nose. We spent some time on the plane studying the floor plan of the house and the map of the grounds Markus supplied us with, familiarising ourselves with the layout.
Outlines appear as my vision adjusts to the gloom.
A large staircase snakes around the wall to the left of the grand entrance.
Gilded frames catch on the sliver of moonlight that’s dared to sneak through the windows, and a decorative table in the centre of the foyer is covered with a grey dust sheet.
All the signs of a house once steeped in grandeur that, for some unknown reason, has been left to rot and ferment.
Willa trails behind as I push through a set of double doors and into a large room.
Like miniature mountains, the furniture is covered with more grey sheets. Willa proceeds to pull them off, setting off clouds of dust, revealing two large sofas, three easy chairs, and a coffee table.
“Lights?” I ask Willa as I lay Hayami down on one of the sofas, tucking her arms in and making sure she’s comfortable.
“One second.” She darts over to the far wall and fumbles with the switch.
The whole room lights up, casting a new scene before us.
It would be tastefully decorated if we were living in the Victorian period.
Dark wooden furniture, rich reds and purples embedded in the woven rugs, dark panelling lining the walls, and an open fireplace—I can almost imagine stockings hanging from it at Christmas. Three large sofas complete the room.
“It’s not so bad with the lights on,” she says with little conviction.
I want to argue. I preferred the gloom.
You can’t fear what you can’t see.
“Stay with her whilst I get the bags.”
“Hurry, though,” Willa says before I get to the door. “I’ve no idea how she’s going to feel when she wakes up.”
I quickly make my exit. Willa is right. What the fuck is Hayami going to think when she wakes up to find she’s in Belial House with only me, Willa, and the darkness?