Attrition of the Gods: Book 1 of the Mystery Thriller series Gods Toys. (41 page)

“Don’t ye be callin’ me honey! You wee cheating, lowlife, useless excuse for a goblin or whatever de feck you are!”

The level of sarcasm coming from the female voice as she chastises Chamuel is even obvious to someone as unfamiliar with this form of wit as Ember. Curious to see the woman who is belittling Chamuel she moves even closer to take a sneaky peek.

“Fuck’s sake, woman, why you gotta get all up in my face?”

Ember can see the back of Chamuel and just make out the figure of the woman. She hears her hysterical, if somewhat ironic, laughing.

“Chamuel, why do you insist on talking like some auld time black actor from a gangster movie? You do know you not really black, don’t ya? It’s not your body, ya little skitter ya.”

Ember is not sure what that means but at least she can now make out this feisty woman’s detail. She has jet-black hair tied back in a plat, with curly wisps falling from her brow across her deep brown eyes. Her skin is olive, like that of her Italian mother no doubt, but her strong jaw and athletic body probably come from her Irish father. Even from this brief glimpse Ember can see she is a formidable-looking woman. She is wearing a khaki shirt tied at the middle and exposing ample cleavage. This and worn brown leather shorts remind Ember of some image she saw in a book once, or was it a comic?

“This cloud spinning round ya head, this is you, my darling wee black Leprechaun.”

Her tone is still strong but Ember recognises a shift in Donegal Gillespie’s aggressive stance. Now she has her hands gripped to the lapels of Chamuel’s jacket and before he manages to answer her comment she pulls him to her and begins what can only be described as “not in front of the children”-type kissing. Ember, embarrassed and a little grossed out, backs up and hits her head on the shutter. She wonders if they heard her. The next words Donegal says suggests she did.

“So, are you going to introduce me to the child?”

“Of course, once you stop molesting me.”

Ember waits expectantly as the two exit the bar. She feels awkward and a little intimidated when Donegal looks her up and down. Then, from nowhere comes a warm smile and a hug and Ember relaxes slightly.

“Well, look at you, poor wee thing, Chamuel did you drag this poor girl backwards through the Pitts?”

“Well, actually…”

“Ack! Don’t tell me, I don’t wanna know. You come with me, girl. Let’s get you fixed up.”

Ember had not even thought about her appearance over the last day or so. She had stepped out of her front door yesterday morning wearing her favourite jeans and a baby-blue soft wool jumper. As always her hair would have been immaculate as would have been the minimal make-up on her soft flawless skin. When Donegal takes her up to the bathroom upstairs she wonders who the dishevelled little urchin is, standing in the corner. She can hardly believe it. Noticing her shock, Donegal reassures her.

“Don’t ye worry, we’ll get ya cleaned up.” She runs her hands through Ember’s hair. “We best get something done with this as well. You will stick out like a dot on a domino around here.”

The water is lukewarm and she has to roll around to get fully wet but still, it feels so good. She blanks out everything that has happened and for a few short minutes she allows herself to relax. Once she is clean, Donegal applies a black dye to her hair, making sure to apply it to her eyebrows as well. Ember does not argue but draws the line at the suggestion that she should cut it short.

Donegal knows that the poor girl has not yet accepted that she will never return to her old life and decides not to make an issue of it. When they eventually return to Chamuel, he is setting something up in a back room. He looks at Ember and stands back, impressed by her metamorphosis into a local girl, her hair now long and dark and her summer dress a colourful floral pattern of yellow and green. Even her light skin has been darkened.

“Hola chica,” he remarks in his best Spanish. Ember feels the flush of embarrassment and tries to change the subject. “What are you up to in there?”

“I am setting up equipment for you to watch this disc.”

Ember’s face collapses, exhaustion getting the better of her. “I don’t want to watch it,” she says definitively.

“Ember… you must.”

“Why don’t you watch it and then you can tell me the good bits.”

“It is for you and you alone. Now, we might as well get this over and done with. Everything is ready. I will put this on then we will leave you to watch it.”

Ember looks to Donegal who gives her a reassuring nod.

“Don’t stress, we will be just outside.”

Once alone, Ember, as bemused as ever, watches the screen flicker. A voice startles her and then she can see the most infamous man to ever walk the earth looking directly at her through a fuzzy screen.

“Hello, September, my beautiful little girl,” says Shane Mills.

Ember recognises the Antihost from all the paraphernalia she has seen with his picture on. Also she recently watched VR footage of this evil psychopath slaughtering women and children. She struggles to match this smiling kind man – calling her by her full name, which not even her daddy does – with the image she is used to seeing.

“I don’t know what you know of me,” says Shane. “But I can only guess that history may have painted a certain image of me that is none too favourable. I hope you can bear to listen to my message to you.

“What seems like a long time ago know before I made this recording I was imprisoned in a place called Stoke Prison. Previous to my incarceration I had led a life that was pretty insignificant compared to what happened afterwards. I was, what you would call, a bit of a rogue. I had allowed myself to be led astray. But not long before I was banged up my life began to actually come together. I had met a wonderful woman and I’d allowed myself to believe I could be happy.”

Shane stares into the camera as if he can see Ember. Ember is baffled and uncomfortable that the Antihost is telling her about his domestic problems.

“Anyway, it was not to be. I’ve spent many hours wondering what could have been if only Sara never went to that flipping gala night… but, anyway, I eventually realised that these things are not within our power and that somewhere someone or thing is pulling the strings and manipulating everything that ever happens. I am telling you this because I assume that you have just been torn away from what you thought was reality. I don’t want you to waste time thinking ‘if only I hadn’t done this or done that’, because you see, my darling, whatever you did, this message would still have been at the end of it.”

Ember is not sure how she feels about this man who is talking to her so frankly and calling her “darling”. Internally she is fighting the warmth that seems to be flowing through her as he speaks. She knows who he is, she has studied what he has done but she cannot fight the feeling of belonging that his image is invoking in her.

“I am so sorry that I, the very person who should be protecting you, am the one who is about to turn your life upside down. If everything has gone to plan you will have lived a very privileged life up until now. I hope that your adopted parents were good to you.”

Ember sits down with a bump, struggling to control her breathing as she contemplates what Shane is saying. As if he notices her discomfort he suddenly shifts in his seat.

“Sorry. I am making a mess of this. I should explain first exactly who I am to you and how this has all come about. As I said, I assume history does not paint me in too good a light. I am not here to plead innocence, I am anything but innocent. I am, however, an important piece in a very complex game. Hopefully chess is still played in your time and if so, I would be the queen on the board.”

Shane shakes his head, still uncomfortable with the gender.

“And you the king.”

Ember is also uncomfortable with the analogy but more out of confusion than association.

“For many years I have raged war against the enemy force that is the Djinn. I had first thought my mission was to defeat Reuben and the others myself but recently I have learned that my mission was to pave the way for you. I am sure by now Reuben, Solfrid and probably Levi have revealed themselves to mankind. They will most likely have presented themselves as god-like saviours. Let me just say, these murdering pricks are no gods! They are a bunch of self-serving bastards that must be wiped from this planet!” Shane checks himself as he feels his outrage may sound crazy to a teenage girl, years in the future. “Sorry, I shouldn’t swear. Let me go back to why I… erm…” He is struggling to find the words. “Why we, when I say ‘we’ I mean… sorry, I really am no good at this shit.”

Ember observes a tear running down his face. Can this be the sadistic maniac that she had read about? Books on him were actually not allowed to be read by underage students, so bad were his deeds. Yet what she sees here is no monster. Ember feels a pull to him. She doesn’t know why and yet she does know why. If she is honest, she knows exactly why.

“The main thing to know is that you are a product of love. I am your father and, although I will never meet you and you will be born long after my death, I want you to know that I love you just as much as any father has ever loved a daughter. Your mother will be watching over you, literally like an angel from the heavens. Her name is Amitiel and she… she…” Once more Shane struggles for the words. He wonders how to explain that her mother is in fact an Arc Hon and yet still the love of his life and the most amazing, beautiful creature imaginable. “Your mother…” He smiles. “She is not of this world. She was sent here to watch over us all. She was supposed to only watch but she broke the rules and, along with others of her kind, she has helped me and the revolutionaries known as the Diabolicals…” Shane realises he is jumping ahead again. “Sorry. I can imagine this sounds very strange to you. I guess finding out you are adopted is shock enough for most people but then to hear that your parents are an evil historical figure and an super sapient your mind must be boggled!”

This is an understatement. Ember feels like she has slipped into a kind of coma. She can hear the words and see his face but nothing is real, and yet it is also very real. Something causes her not to doubt what is being said. Amitiel. Even if she knows it sounds crazy, she has always been drawn to the Angel of Truth. Even though she has only ever seen pictures, she has always felt a presence.

“Like I said, you were created from love. We both love you. I tell you this because I don’t want you thinking you were a product of necessity.” Again he pauses for an awkward moment. “Reuben and the other Djinn are very powerful; I know because I have been fighting them for so long. It is obvious that no mere human can defeat them. The Arc Hon were a match for the Djinn but they have been betrayed by one of their own and now their capabilities are reduced.”

Ember cannot keep up. She wonders if she missed something. Shane reassures her.

“Don’t worry, if you don’t follow all the babble I am coming out with, I will explain everything one step at a time. First though, I must reiterate: you are the first ever offspring of both a human and an Arc Hon. This makes you very special and very powerful. I pass on some pretty special genes if I say so myself, and as for your mother, well she’s basically a fucking angel.”

Shane hopes his sense of humour is helping Ember to take it all in. If he could see her he would be uplifted. Ember smiles at this man’s attempt at humour, the feelings of empathy are growing stronger and the closeness is now undeniable. Could it be that she feels a fondness towards the most infamous mass murderer who ever lived? What does that say about her?

“Unfortunately, one other thing I am passing on is the burden of fighting the Djinn. You see, my sweet little girl, you must help lead humans out of the darkness. You must free the slaves and wipe the Djinn from the face of the planet and back to their own dimension.”

The picture flickers and Ember’s heart misses a beat. Oh no, it’s damaged, she thinks. Panic ensues and she readies to call Chamuel but to her relief, the image returns and her new-found father is back on the screen.

“There is so much to tell you. First let’s just get the facts straight. I want to tell you what really happened. I will start from when we escaped from prison, Leo and Raphael, Chamuel and myself. All the news channels blamed us for the prison break, saying how Robert Price and I had masterminded the killing of six hundred innocents in the process. Thanks to Reuben and his PR machine, I became the most wanted and evil man on the planet. Ultimately though, this plan backfired on him because it made me realise I had nowhere to go but onwards. I was already damned so innocence was no longer an issue. It was also just after escaping that your mother reappeared to me and told me about the recruits I needed to find. I am sure you know these as the Diabolicals.”

Ember has an involuntary shudder just at the name of the group who history depicts as the inner circle of evil, all infamous for their part in the massacres and the final war.

“Well, let me tell you these ‘Diabolicals’ were the bravest men and women I could ever have had the privilege to have met.” Shane holds up a group photo. In it stands himself and Robert Price. There’s also a tall black woman with thin sharp features standing next to a man wearing a cowboy hat and a long leather coat. Unlike a typical cowboy, this man is East Asian with long dark hair and an athletic build. He is leaning on the shoulder of a middle-aged red-headed woman; attractive if you are into domination. The third woman in the photo is South Asian. She has short cropped hair and a beauty that resembles a pixie. The last person in the photo is a short wiry-looking Arab who wears a fez.

“These people are my family,” says Shane warmly. “They are your family too and each and every one of them loves you and hopes that you are well. I know there is a lot to explain and I only have the length of this disc to do it in so I will stop rambling and get to the point. You know by now at we have been defeated but that is not quite true. This is merely the next step in my strategy. I know I am not the one to defeat the Djinn, they are too strong. They have the control of men’s minds and have built up their strongholds over thousands of years. We need something, or someone, who can match the Djinn. We have help from the Arc Hon, Raphael, Chamuel and Amitiel, but they are restricted in what they can do and they fear some entity called the Demiurge more than they fear Reuben. Anyway, while I slept one night I had a dream. It was you Ember, you came to me and told me what to do, what needed to be done.”