The Paradise Prophecy (3 page)

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Authors: Robert Browne

BOOK: The Paradise Prophecy
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“Ridiculous,” the third man said. He was German, with the somewhat stiff, controlled bearing of a military man. He struck Ajda as someone who would take great pleasure in inflicting torture. “Their lot ended generations ago. Who told you this?”
The woman hesitated again. “No one of consequence. A laggard. A drunk.”
The businessman raised an eyebrow. “One of your playthings, no doubt. Is he . . . committed yet?”
The woman shook her head.
“Then why believe him?”
“It’s complicated. But I have my reasons. You think I’d waste everyone’s time if I didn’t?”
“What I think is that you tend to be an alarmist, my dear, and I’m not interested in listening to your cries that the sky is falling. But even if it’s true,
Custodes Sacri
is no real threat to us.”
Sunglasses turned to him. “Don’t be naive, Radek. I’d think you, especially, would understand the threat of unseen enemies.” He looked at the German now. “And you, Vogler, you know better than anyone what lurks behind an innocent face and a charming smile. Our last few attempts have failed spectacularly, gentlemen, and I think it’s time we let Bel—” He stopped himself, glancing at Ajda, who kept busy behind the counter. “It’s time to let our sister here have her chance.”
The woman looked at him appreciatively, even lasciviously. Ajda shuddered at the thought that these two might be related.
The businessman gestured dismissively. “Look around you. The world is in chaos and we’re closer than ever to realizing our goal. The fourth moon approaches, and a handful of true believers can’t do anything to stop us.”
“The fourth moon is useless to us if we fail to find what we’re looking for.”
The businessman scowled. “That’s your particular obsession, my friend. You put too much stock in ancient rumors. For all we know, they’re nothing but lies designed to distract us from what truly needs to be done.”
“We’ve had this argument before,” Sunglasses said. “But even the execution of their so-called savior didn’t give us the power we need.”
The German snorted. “Proof that he was as mortal as the rest of them.”
“But if those ancient rumors are true, the Telum will change the game. And I thought we all agreed what our first priority is.”
The businessman shook his head. “I made no such agreement. I see no reason to abandon the tried and true in hopes that a fairy tale might bear fruit.”
The woman leaned toward him now.
“Tried and true?” she said incredulously. “Like the Crusades? The Black Death? World War Two? Your efforts have fallen short time and again, Radek, and the sooner you put that ego of yours in check, the better off we’ll all be.”
The businessman flicked his gaze toward her, his eyes cold with contempt. “I’d advise you to watch your tongue, my dear. If you think I’d hesitate to cut it off, you’re sadly mistaken.”
“You’re certainly welcome to try.”
Ajda watched in horror as the two stared at each other, neither willing to look away.
“Enough,” Sunglasses said. “These petty disputes only serve to divide us, and we can’t afford that now. If
Custodes Sacri
is indeed active again, then we can use them to our advantage. They do, after all, hold the key to what we seek. And that knowledge is as important as the Telum itself.”
The German looked doubtful. “What makes you think they’ll be any different than the others of their kind? We’ve tried working with them before.”
“It only takes one.”
“Assuming you can find any of them.”
The woman smiled now. “This is why I summoned you all to Esau.”
“Oh?”
She gestured toward the window. “The auction house across the street. My friend seems to believe the owner is one of them. A rancid little beast named Ozan.”
“And he knows this how?”
“He’s a student of our world. Seems to know more about it than I do myself. And despite his failings, his intellect is quite formidable. He could be useful to us.”
The businessman glanced at the other two men, then smirked at her. “It’s quite obvious you have a soft spot for this pathetic creature.”
She studied him coldly. “Now whose tongue is in danger?”
“Let’s get back to the problem at hand,” Sunglasses said, then turned again to the woman, once more stroking the small of her back. “I assume you’d prefer to handle the matter?”
“I think it’s only fitting, don’t you?”
“How so?” the businessman asked.
“You’ve all had your chances to prove yourselves. Now it’s mine. And even if this Ozan creature fails to give us what we need, he’ll no longer be an obstacle.” She smiled. “By the time I’m finished, none of them will.”
Sunglasses looked at the others. “There you have it then. You two can continue doing what you so love and leave the rest to us. Are we all in agreement?”
The other men seemed to hesitate a moment, as if giving in were somehow equivalent to a battle lost. Then there were nods all around as each of the four raised a palm, saying in unison, “
A posse ad esse
.”
Ajda froze in place as a shiver ran through her bones. She had dropped all pretense now and was staring openly at them, certain that what she was witnessing was the planning of a crime of some kind. Possibly even murder.
What else could it be?
The woman glanced up sharply and Ajda quickly averted her gaze. She had to speak to Ferid. He knew people. Could summon the police. The auction house was closed at this hour, so maybe they could warn this man Ozan before these horrid people got to him.
But as she turned to flee to the kitchen, she stopped short, surprised to find the woman standing directly in front of her—an impossible feat that confused Ajda, rendering her momentarily immobile.
“You speak Russian,” the woman said.
A statement, not a question.
Alarmed, Ajda swiveled her head to look at the others, for fear they might be coming for her. But to her further surprise, the table was empty except for four untouched cups of tea. There was no other indication that the men had ever been here at all.
“You’re quite lovely,” the woman continued, now speaking Turkish with the fluency of a native. And as Ajda tried to move past her, she quickly discovered that her immobility was not temporary at all.
The woman looked her straight in the eyes. And just as Ajda had feared, this was no ordinary gaze. It felt as if a foreign entity had invaded her body.
But not, she realized, an unpleasant one.
“I’m sure all the boys adore you,” the woman said, then gave her a small, knowing smile. “And perhaps some of their sisters, too?”
Then, without even a hint of hesitation, she reached forward and gently cupped Ajda’s left breast, brushing a neatly manicured thumb across the fabric covering her nipple.
To Ajda’s astonishment, she was not offended nor embarrassed by this. It didn’t bother her that a complete stranger was touching her in a place that no woman had ever touched. It didn’t even concern her that the door to the café was unlocked and that someone might walk in at any moment.
It was as if she were dreaming. A dream she had no desire to awaken from. One with no restrictions, no taboos.
Her senses were whirling. This woman’s touch had stirred something inside her. Something primal. And as her body reacted, she suddenly felt . . . free. Free to act on her impulses without judgment.
“So beautiful,” the woman said, then ran her hands down the front of Ajda’s blouse, unbuttoning it, dropping it to the floor. With a quick, practiced motion, she unhooked Ajda’s bra, then leaned forward and kissed the spot where her thumb had just been.
Ajda didn’t resist.
Had no desire to.
Whatever fear she had felt before had vanished along with her modesty, and she found the sensation of this stranger’s tongue to be quite exhilarating.
Something loosened inside of her, something wet and wonderful—a feeling that Ferid, with all of his fumbling, had never been able to awaken.
And as they sank together to the floor, hands roaming, fingers exploring, all Ajda could think about was the hunger she felt.
She wanted more.
Give me more.
BOOK II
 
The Fall and Rise of Gabriela Zuada
 
I fled and cry’d out, Death!
Hell trembl’d at the hideous Name, and sigh’d
From all her Caves, and back resounded Death!
—
Paradise Lost
, 1667 ed., II:787–89
 
 
SÃO PAULO, BRAZIL
 
H
er screams were what told them she was in trouble.
 
Before that, Alejandro and the others had assumed that she’d merely wanted time alone, as she often did. And despite the danger, despite her utter carelessness, the moment the show was over, she had managed to slip away from them and disappear.
Some might have considered it a prima donna move. But Gabriela Zuada was no prima donna.
Alejandro knew this better than anyone.
After nearly a year as her personal manager, and three before that running
Lar do Coração
—Gabriela’s Home of the Heart charity—he had never seen her throw a temper tantrum, had never seen her raise her voice in anger, had never seen her make a single reckless move that would lower her to the level of any of the flavor-of-the-week pop stars who had come and gone over the years.
But the woman liked her privacy. Especially after a performance. And Alejandro knew that the hordes of ravenous fans, the paparazzi, and all the trappings of superstardom sometimes got to be too much for her. So he had assumed, along with everyone else in Gabriela’s entourage, that this was why she had quietly disappeared.
He had only turned away for a moment, to make another phone call. One minute she was walking alongside him, the next she was gone. A trick she had perfected after several months of practice.
Alejandro couldn’t count the number of times he had patiently explained to her that she was not only a public figure, but a controversial one as well, and that she must stay with her bodyguards at all times.
But Gabriela rarely listened. She may not have been a prima donna, but she definitely had a mind of her own.
This was the last night of her Glory Revealed World Tour, and Gabriela had always liked to end with a show here in São Paulo. Had once said to Alejandro, back in the days when she had shared his bed, that home was the only place she truly felt safe.
“This is where God chose to put me on this earth,” she’d said as she snuggled up close, pressing a warm breast against his arm. “Where his angel watches over me.”
Alejandro had loved the feel of her skin against his. The rise and fall of her chest as she breathed into his ear. Missed it even now, all these months later.
They had both known that their affair was a sin, but had succumbed to temptation more than once—seventeen glorious times, to be precise—until the guilt had finally driven Gabriela to break it off.
“How can I preach chastity to young girls when I’m not chaste myself?”
It was a fair question. One that Alejandro couldn’t argue with.
But when he had broached the subject of marriage, Gabriela had scoffed. She had no time for such things. Not with the ministry finally taking off, not with all the work that had to be done.
She would only allow herself to be committed to the Lord and no one else. And she must serve as an example of purity in a world polluted by mankind’s weaknesses—especially now, when that world was quickly headed toward the oblivion of hell, when economies were failing and the streets were filled with so much anger and hate.
She had never seen such unrest, she’d told Alejandro. Several months ago, at a concert in Greece, a near riot had broken out for no other reason than someone mistakenly sat in the wrong seat. It had taken a plea from Gabriela herself to calm the crowd.

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