Fires of Eden

By Nael Roberts

The fourth instalment of the vampire chronicles sees Christian in a position of absolute power and the world is on the very precipice of destruction.
Baphomet has forged an alliance with Ann-Marie's enemies, as history unfolds and the dark prophecy is fulfilled.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nael Roberts
• Release date: Aug 24, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311657770

Nael Roberts

Nael Roberts (Nael is pronounced ‘Nile’) was born in 1964 in the North East of England and later moved to London, where he worked briefly for the BBC.In 1988, he wrote the original version of ‘Legacy of the Vampire’, which was called at that time ‘Seduction of Evil’. Its title was changed after advice from a publisher, recommending that the subject matter of ‘vampire’ should be put into the title.The original version was revisited in 2013 and subsequently published as an e-book, closely followed by the second and third instalments that year also.Nael attributes much of his fervent imagination to watching many old Hammer Horror movies and comic books as a child, culminating in his own publication of comic books with his grammar-school classmates.Each book generally takes Nael a month to actually write, but several months to research.All of the characters are derived from Nael’s own personality, however the names of the characters are derived from associates’ feline friends.Books 2 and 3 of the Communicator/Vampire Chronicles were based in Durham, a city which he still visits to this day.

Book preview

Prologue

The autumn weather had not been kind to the North-East coast of England; torrential rain had battered the coastline and brought with it the dark and ominous clouds that foretold the omen of the shadowy day ahead. The evening skies were washed-out and lacklustre, as if the very blush of their colour was faded beyond recognition. The now constant drum of the rain upon the window panes, became a part of the very fabric of daily living, bringing to it the slow heartbeat of death and decay. Life appeared to be tedious, laboured in these dark and soulless times, as the city’s lifeblood appeared to be silted and somewhat contrived to this modern inhuman beat of life. As the dark clouds hung mischievously above the city’s castle, they reached out far across the countryside, threatening to release their cargo at any imminent moment. Their dark hue denoting a fearful time ahead.

The clouds reached over and past Barnstable farm, threatening their mischief, but their cries fell upon deaf ears, for the sound of laughter issues from below.

Jacques walked slowly into the living room, where Ann-Marie and Raven were deep in titillating conversation, the moment that he entered their discussion ceased and they smiled and looked in his direction, a look of mischief etched upon their faces.

Am I interrupting something? he sensitively enquired, raising his eyebrows in concern.

Ann-Marie smirked slightly, causing Jacques to smile back at her, his pallor turning a bright shade of pink.

I know that something’s wrong; tell me, he said, with a playful twinkle in his eye.

Ann-Marie closed the lid of the laptop and looked rather sheepishly in his direction.

We were just looking on the Internet, and I discovered some images of you back in 1314. And let’s just say that, thank the Lord, you changed your appearance.

Jacques laughed out loud.

A sentiment I mirror myself. What was I thinking? he said.

I didn’t realise that you were able to change your looks, Raven said.

Immortals can change their image, it’s vampires that cannot, they remain as they were the second they were turned to darkness, he highlighted. I’ve grown my hair long, shaved off my beard; I have tried every style imagined to man - and a few that weren’t. But I feel most comfortable with my present choice. Clean shaven and shaved head, a stern military style. It’s neat and requires very little management.

Thank the Lord, said Ann-Marie. I don’t think that look, she continued, pointing to the now closed lap-top. Would have made me go weak at the knees, she smirked. And it doesn’t show off your beautiful, blue eyes.

Jacques smirked. Well, I’m pleased that my present look has had that desired effect. We all looked the way I was depicted in the painting because it was the easiest way to manage your personal appearance. You’re going to find it hard to believe, but we had fashion of a sort, even then, he said, with a playful smile.

Jacques could feel the heat from the welcoming open fire which caused his smile to broaden as its welcome warmth soothed his immortal bones.

I’m pleased you have set a fire, the air outside is very damp and all of this rain has brought out a multitude of my ailments, he looked at Ann-Marie, who returned his gaze with a look of amazement. Yes, he said, nodding his head. I can still get pains in my joints and arthritis. This was all prevalent at the time of my death, so it remains with me as a bond to my mortal life.

Looking at the warm dancing flames his eyes moved upwards to the mantle shelf and a further smile broke across his lips.

I see you have returned your father’s shotgun back to its pride of place, he said, nodding in the direction of the gun. That simple weapon saved us all from an immortality of perpetual torment.

I know, Raven said. I can’t help thanking Adam, for if it hadn’t have been for his intervention then I don’t think we would have survived our journey into that inferno.

I know, Ann-Marie interjected. We were only too blessed that Adam had the foresight to bring the shotgun along, but thank the Lord he did because it put pay to any ideas Baphomet and that dragon creature had about killing us. I don’t know how my father’s little old shotgun managed to inflict so much damage upon those immortal creatures.

Jacques smiled, but a look of deliberation swept across his features.

I have been pondering that superstition myself, he said as he turned to Ann-Marie. Were there any cartridges remaining?

Ann-Marie thought for a moment.

Yeah, I think so. I remember when I first returned to the farm I discovered a few boxes of cartridges in that draw, she said, pointing to the ornate Victorian sideboard that sat at the far end of the room.

May I? Jacques enquired, expressing with his open hand his desire to search the draws of the sideboard.

Be my guest, Ann-Marie said, shaking her head. I don’t know much about them other than my father had them specially made, but that would be about thirty-five years ago.

Jacques walked over to the sideboard and open a drawer, immediately he lifted out a small box of cartridges and carried them respectfully over to the sofa where he sat reverently down and placed the box softly on his knee. Gently he lifted the lid and revealed the almost perfect cartridges sitting regimented inside the somewhat decayed box. Tentatively he withdrew one of the cartridges and held it to his eye level. He then brushed it gently with his finger and held it under his nose, before looking at Ann-Marie.

There is more to this than meets the eye, he said.

Ann-Marie righted herself on the adjacent sofa as an air of concern washed over her.

Alright, now you have my full and undivided attention, she said.

Jacques took a deep breath. I can smell salt and silver. There is a mixture of shot and silver pellet in here, he announced.

Which is why Adam was able to bring down Greyon and inflict those wounds upon Baphomet, Raven stated.

I don’t understand, what’s so special about silver? Ann-Marie asked.

Silver, especially blessed silver, is abhorrent to all thing evil, Raven stated. "It can kill vampires, imps, werewolves, drive away evil spirits and demons, especially if it has been blessed by the church.

When Adam discovered the cartridges a few weeks ago and asked if he could go grouse hunting, as we were close to the glorious twelfth, and I said no, because they were precious to me, I didn’t mean in a monitory way, it was meant in relation to my father’s memory, Ann-Marie stated. Not that that is a precious commodity now.

Placing his hand over the top of the box, Jacques turned it over so he could read the maker’s stamp on the base of the card container. His eyes were quickly drawn to the bottom left corner of the box, for there drawn in ancient faded ink, was a pentagram, scribed upon the cardboard surface several times, as if to denote the true designation of the contents’ value.

I think that there is another tale appertaining to these cartridges, a far darker explanation is apparent, he said.

What do you mean? Ann-Marie asked.

This box contain the mark of the wolf, Jacques stated. Their intension is to be used as protection against the beast.

Ann-Marie laughed. We don’t get wolves in England, they were driven to extinction hundreds of years ago. Well we do have some but they’re only in zoos.

Jacques’s whole demeanour appeared to turn cold and ridged.

Really! he whispered. And what about the preternatural ones?

Part One

Dark Horizon

One

Ann-Marie had been sitting for almost an hour in total silence in the living room of Barnstable Farm; the only sounds of life were those of artificial foundation, which were held in the intermittent sounds of the freshly cut autumn logs as they burned and spluttered in the fireplace, their presence attributing life to the ravenous flames that illuminated the shadows that haunted the early evening darkness that huddled in the corners of the living-room. Her eyes were constantly searching her environment but ultimately they rested upon the one thing that focused her scattered imagination, the shotgun that hung over the mantle-shelf.

Sensing the impending presence of her brother, she closed her eyes and turned to the doorway and offered Adam a reassuring smile.

Sorry, was I disturbing you? he sensitively asked.

Ann-Marie smiled and opened her eyes. Never. I always have time for you.

Can I ask? he enquired. What’s on your mind?

Ann-Marie thought for a moment.

Please, sit next to me, she asked tenderly. Gathering her thoughts, she offered him a soft reassuring smile.

I feel that we understand each other so much more than either of us could have imagined less than a few months ago, and for that reason I feel that we should never hold secrets from one-another.

Adam nodded. Agreed.

In relation to the recent events, and my father’s shotgun, I have come to the conclusion that we must explore beyond our own little kingdom for answers, she said.

In relation to what? Adam enquired.

Firstly, she said firmly, to prevent secrets from festering within our relationship and infecting it, and secondly to question what has already been proposed.

Alright, the first one, Adam said. Is there any way I can support with the first preposition?

Ann-Marie smiled and placed her hand gently upon his own.

No, for it is you who are the one who is being shielded from the secret.

Adam smirked nervously as his eyebrows knitted in concern.

Our father was a scientist and was abhorred by anything which he perceived as being supernatural. So why did he keep silver shotgun pellets in the house? she asked.

I don’t see the significance, Adam began to reply.

Ann-Marie slowly lifted her finger to her lips, requesting silence, as she endeavoured to explain.

Our father was a complex creature made up of contradiction, arrogance and blind self-directed faith in himself and his own abilities, so why would he keep a shotgun and silver shot to protect himself against something which he perceived as being preternatural and so could not or should not exist?

Well, as he is not here to ask and if we could contact him using our Communicator powers, I surmise that assisting us in our endeavours would be the last thing from his tortured and deceitful mind to even consider enabling us in our research to comprehend. I think you’re on a bit of a no hoper there, Adam stated coldly.

I had already surmised that conclusion myself, Ann-Marie stated with a smile. No there is something else. Something I feel that another person may be able to enlighten our quest with information.

Who? Adam enquired.

John Darrow, she replied.

The solicitor? he reaffirmed.

Our uncle! she stipulated. Mine by birth, yours by unwanted definition.

A cold sliver of silence fell between both parties.

There’s nothing like a bit of nepotism to keep a family together, Adam stated sarcastically.

From your tone I surmise that you’re feeling a little betrayed, Ann-Marie said.

Adam offered her a wry smile. Nope, it’s just like it has always been, left on the outskirts of family life, he then corrected himself. Not by you, but in a general self. His smile warmed a little.

I suppose you have every right to be angry, I know I would be in your situation, Ann-Marie said with soft reassurance, endeavouring to offer encouragement and solidarity.

Adam let out a beleaguered, almost insignificant breath.

I suppose that’s the problem, I don’t feel as though I have many rights; not only with my extended family but also with my marital one. I appear to always be at the tail end of everything, the last to know, Adam shifted uncomfortably in his seat, physically more than emotionally. I suppose when it comes down to it, I’m experiencing difficulties in confronting certain issues in my life, when in fact I realise, only too well, that if these issues were confronted and challenged, then my life would be a much simpler and calmer place to reside.

Your wife? Ann-Marie enquired.

Partially, he said. It’s now more to do with the children. After experiencing the recent dissention into Hell and the harsh and frightening reality that that experience brought to me, I realise the magnitude of the possible dangers that I may be placing everyone that I love into, and the difference of a few hundred mortal miles pales into insignificance in relation to the sinister possibilities, which could be imagined by the tormented minds of a darker realm.

I suppose that is a natural thing. It’s the bond that retains our humanity. If we didn’t experience these emotions, we would be no better that those creatures that pursue us, Ann-Marie said.

Do you think that I am over-reacting? Adam asked.

Ann-Marie thought and shook her head.

I don’t think anything. I understand your concerns, but as I have always highlighted to you, this is the life that we all experience. I think it’s because I’ve lived so close to ‘the edge’ for so long now, I perceive it as being normal, whereas, this is all relatively new to you. Also, hearing us talk about situations and then you personally experiencing them, can cause a dilemma to your very emotional core. We understand that as a group we are very different but so are you. You are more akin to us than you are to the outside world. You now have more in common with our rag-tag tribe than you do to your own mortal family.

Adam smirked.

Don’t I know it, he quipped.

Ann-Marie looked at him with a playful, curious expression.

Realising her intrigue, Adam explained.

We were going to tell you after I had perfected the skills a little better, but there no better time than the present, he momentarily paused and offered Ann-Marie a broad smirk. Raven has taught me how to orb. Not in the dramatic way that all of you can, but in a basic protection sort of way.

Ann-Marie looked at him in amazement and pride.

That’s amazing. It must feel a bit like passing your driving test.

Well sort of, I feel that I have gained the right to hold a provisional licence, he said. I can only orb short distances, a mile or so being the maximum.

How long have you been learning this? Ann-Marie said with a strong sense of sisterly pride.

From the beginning. I asked Raven not to mention anything, in case I couldn’t achieve my goal. Remember when I was discovering my basic Communicator skills, which was difficult enough to complete the basics of the astral travel thing, and look where that got me, face to face with that Christian character. Now he was a scary chap.

My, we are turning into a right motley crew of rag-tag and happily dissolute characters, Ann-Marie stated.

I think our little lost community bring out the best in us all, Adam said with and air of reassurance.

Ann-Marie looked at him with a mocking sense of shock, playfully etched across her face.

Yeah, our own little glee club.

Adam laughed, bringing an involuntary smile to his sister’s lips.

Oh a Goth glee club with fangs. Now there’s a bit of an oxymoron if ever I heard one, she stated.

Adam took a deep breath and sat back on the sofa.

I’m not being a moan and I understand the magnitude of the issues which present themselves to you on a daily basis but I do feel slightly insignificant in all areas of my life. I just wish I could assist you a little more-be a bit more proactive.

Ann-Marie nodded.

I think some of that is partially my fault. I may have become an over-protective big sister. I’ve been thinking about this for some time and following the confrontation with Baphomet, it made me realise that you can handle more responsibility than I initially gave you credit for. After all, you managed to get this far in life without my intervention, why should things change just because the situation has changed?

Adam looked at her with a playfully wistful expression in his eyes.

I quite like having a big sister. Makes me feel all school-boyish and mischievous.

Ann-Marie shook her head.

Well you’re a man, and they never grow up.

Adam raised his hand to his forehead, feigning simplicity.

And I hope that I’ll be able to multi-task when I grow up. Vacuum the floor and load the washing machine at the same time.

Ann-Marie pursed her lips.

You’re starting to sound more and more like Ronan at the passing of each day, she said playfully.

Adam shrugged his shoulders And that can’t be a bad thing.

Ann-Marie allowed the warm memories of her beloved friend to wash over her.

Defiantly not, she said, with a broad smile.

After a few moments, an uncomfortable silence crept mischievously into the conversation. Its presence an unwelcome portent of doom.

So! Adam said.

So, Ann-Marie replied in confusion.

Family, responsibilities, the rational for this conversation, difficulties you’re experiencing, he stated, bullet-pointing their previous conversation.

Sorry, Ann-Marie said, bobbing her head up and down, as she always did when she was a little lost in her own thoughts, yet endeavouring to continue with a conversation in the physical world. Focusing her mind, she continued. Yes, yes, responsibilities, she took a deep breath. I have a task for you.

Her crimson eyes flashed with anticipation.

The Necronomicon; Mica discovered its pages and then proceeded to hide them, away from danger, away from those who would manipulate their contents for their own dark desires.

Are they safe? Adam enquired.

That’s the problem. We don’t know. Mica said that she had hidden them in plain sight, whatever that means, she replied. But their presence in this world presents as a clear and present danger, for if they were to fall into the wrong hands then catastrophe could ensue.

Are you wanting to rediscover them? Adam asked.

Yes, and destroy them. If Christian is amassing religious and spiritual artefacts to use as a deadly weapon against humanity, then we must endeavour to reduce his opportunities at every turn possible. Mica wasn’t to know the dramatic turns that this dark tale would take and the advancements that her brother would achieve in his desire to bring down humanity. If she even has an inkling into his capabilities then she would have destroyed those damnable pages, there and then.

Why didn’t she? Adam asked.

Her strong sense of morality, Ann-Marie replied. She has forged a strong and respectful relationship with Ronan and knew how much their contents meant to him, and so, couldn’t bring herself to destroy his dream; he was, and always will be, a man of science and religion and she felt the pain in his eyes when he handed over the pages to her and for that she always felt regret.

What will you do? Adam asked.

Me? Nothing, she said turning to Adam. You, on the other hand, will undertake a stronger sense of responsibility within this merry band of fools and seek out the possible whereabouts of these documents. It must be done secretly and without the knowledge of others. We must be the only people who know of your task, and if you discover them, then we will destroy the pages together, Ann-Marie smiled. We do have an advantage. Mica was a creature of habit and did not venture far. They could be placed within a few miles radius of the farmhouse. I suppose you could see this as a way of honing your newfound preternatural skills, endeavouring to search for these precious pages. You never know, you may discover a few new skills along the way.

And what will you do? he asked.

What do you mean? she replied.

Well this does sound like a declaration from a war council, where tasks are vetted out prior to the main battle, he said.

How astute, she said, with a smile. My task is to gather information from Uncle John. For I do feel that there are darker preternatural strands to our family history than initially meets the eyes.

Do you think that he will know anything? Adam tentatively asked.

I don’t, but at present he is our only option, she replied. I suppose I shouldn’t be so down on everything, after-all there are greater things to contend with in this world.

Adam looked at Ann-Marie.

Did you read the newspapers this morning?

Ann-Marie looked at him with a slight air of caution.

Why, should I? she asked.

It would seem that the spread of the ancient plague virus has been quelled, but it hasn’t been fully stopped. There have been a few cases in outer London, but that’s all that has been reported. Either the Government is keeping a tight lid on the facts or there’s nothing to report. A lot of animal rights activists are demonstrating against the mass culling of rats and vermin, and there has been sporadic looting in several of the big cities, but generally the chaos has been kept to a minimum.

Would you say that the Government has it under control? Ann-Marie enquired.

Adam let out a slight laugh.

I think it’s just a matter of time before the inevitable happens. The problem is, that the infrastructure is so vast that it would be impossible to monitor. Thousands of trains leave London on a daily basis and all it takes is one infected person to leave the capital and the outlying counties are left open to the infection which will consume the innocent in a matter of days, Adam took a deep breath. I know it’s a natural disaster, but it doesn’t make it any less terrifying.

But is it natural? she asked. Has Christian’s dark intervention played a primary part in this shadowy historical calamity? I think we have to deal with each event as it occurs. Since Christian’s rise to economic power, I now view each and every daily event with a dark suspicion.

I think that we have to concede that, in some strange way, Christian has succeeded. We are perpetually looking over our shoulder and seeing dark enemies in the shadows where there is nothing to see. Christian is growing more powerful at the turning of each day and there is very little that we can do to stop this, other than confront him on his own ground, Adam stated. However, you tried that, and look what happened. He was protected by a demon. A creature far darker than anything which we had ever encountered.

I suppose we have to discover an alternative way of confronting him. A way of stopping his deadly rampage, Ann-Marie stated.

And how do we manage that? I feel that all of our allegiances have been spent and, because of our past history, we are very much on our own. We have no allies and others cower from us as we are seen as the harbingers of doom that infect this world, Adam said.

I think that our problems have only just begun and Christian may be the least of those problems, she said.

Adam’s eyebrows knitted in concern and confusion.

We destroyed one of the strongest threads of the vampire nation. We decimated a whole tribe, bringing down a nation of supernatural creatures that had survived man’s torment for over two thousand years, and we brought them down in one night, she looked directly at Adam. And you don’t think that will go unnoticed?

Great! More bad guys chasing us, Adam said with a hint of sarcasm.

Well we can’t be naïve enough to believe that they will turn a blind eye and ignore what’s happened, Ann-Marie said. I guess it’s the turn of the ancient Tribe of Ra to come-a-calling, she shook her head. I can’t wait.

Great, we manage to piss off the immortal world as well as the mortal world. What next? Adam enquired sarcastically.

****

It had taken Adam three transitions to orb himself to the riverbank next to the cathedral. Even though Barnstable Farm was only three miles away, he felt as though he has transcended a mountain and his personal sense of self achievement was unmistakably evident. He slowly walked along the waterside and up towards Cathedral Green. He stood for a brief moment drinking in the magnificence of the grandeur of this ancient majestic scene. An early evening mist gently drifted across the green adding an air of sensuality rather than foreboding, proclaiming an almost fairy-tale atmosphere to the night air. As he walked across the green he observed the stranger leaving Ronan’s residence. A female, aged around her late forties, but time had been very kind to her feminine ways. She appeared to be very familiar with Ronan and kissed him repeatedly upon his cheeks and lips before turning and waving goodbye to him as she made her way out of the gates and down the cobbled streets and towards the town centre. As Adam made his way to the front of the house, he noticed that the red front door was left slightly ajar. Pushing it, with the palm of his hand, it let out a slightly annoyed squeak, as it was evident that Ronan’s ability to manage the daily maintenance of his home left something of a less than desired outcome.

Adam looked into the dimly-lit hallway and shouted.

Ronan! Are you there? A question he already knew the answer to.

Of course I am, I saw you walking across the green, why do you think I left the door open. Come in, I’ve already poured you a drink, he shouted from the living room.

As Adam entered the room, Ronan was already seated on one of the sofas. Adam smiled to him as a greeting and sat on the sofa opposite, where his drink was placed on the small table adjacent, denoting where Ronan desired his friend to sit.

Social call? Ronan enquired.

I suppose, Adam said with a slight tinge of deceit.

You know you’re always welcome, Ronan said with a smile.

Not as welcome as the lady I saw you with a few seconds ago, Adam said with a smirk.

Ronan looked at him with a perplexed expression but then realisation dawned and he explained the presenting situation.

Oh! That was Tracy, my secretary and research assistant, he replied.

If I didn’t know better I would have said she was more than a friend, the amount of attention you were giving her, Adam said with a mischievous smile.

Ah! No, Ronan said with a concerned expression on his face. She’s just come back from Cirencester, where her grandmother lives, he immediately corrected himself. Lived.

Adam’s expression changed to that of embarrassment, tempered with concern.

Have I just put my social foot into it? he asked.

She’s been to visit her grandmother as she had some form of chest infection-I think-and they put it down to her age and being weak, she was 91. She died just after Tracy arrived, and they had the funeral a few days ago. Tracy has been through the thick of it over these past few weeks, and now she’s off to the doctors, she managed to get a late appointment. Poor thing is totally run down.

What’s wrong? Adam said in genuine concern.

She thinks that she must be tired, totally drained, she developed a lump under her arm, it’s been there for a day or so, it looks like one of her lymph glands is infected. I’m sure everything will be alright, Ronan said.

Is she going to let you know how things are? Adam enquired.

Well, I hope so, I’ve told her not to come into work for a few days, even if the doctors say it’s nothing to worry about. She’s totally drained, poor thing needs to rest and plenty of it, Ronan said with a half-hearted smile.

Wanting to change the subject Adam turned the conversation to Ronan’s favourite subject; himself.

So how have you been? he said.

Ronan offered him a big smile.

I’ve been fine, there’s a new finance manager at work, who’s a pain, a right jobs-worth, but I can deal with him. Other than that, everything is totally tickety-boo!

We haven’t seen you in a few weeks and I just wanted to make sure you were alright? Adam said.

You know me, I’m not one to make a fuss, and I just get on with things, Ronan replied in sarcasm. He then looked at his watch. Tracy’s been here for over four hours. I don’t know about you but I’m starving. Do you want some nibbles, I made them before she came and put them in the fridge but she didn’t want any and I thought it would be rude to eat in front of her.

Adam smiled. Yes, sounds nice.

I’m just going to the bathroom, I’ll be a few seconds, I’ve been listening to Tracy troubles and felt it would be a little insensitive if I stropped her in mid-conversation to nip to the loo for a pee, Ronan said.

As Ronan stood, there was a slight sound of something inconsequential falling to the floor and Adam looked to the side of the sofa, to explore the source of the tentative noise. He waited for Ronan to leave the room before standing and walking over to the adjacent sofa, there, he slowly kneeled until his head was level with the arm of the sofa and the object became visible. It was a large white board, about 20 inches in length. Adam reached forward and retrieved the article and returned to his seat. Turning the board over, he was immediately filled with a dark anxiety. This emotion was exacerbated by a fleeting peripheral shadow that flickered just out of perceptual view. He turned his head sharply, but the room was empty, he then look down at the board, his mind in disarray, as concern filled him. ‘Should I confront Ronan about his discovery?’ This matter was immediately taken from him as Ronan entered the room laden with several dishes covered in assorted snacks. Placing them on the table he looked curiously at Adam.

What? he asked, as he has observed a subtle change in the atmosphere.

Adam lifted the Ouija board from his lap.

Ronan laughed.

Oh that! It’s a child’s toy from the 1950’s, they used to sell them across America. Tracy brought it around, she wanted to use it to get in contact with her grandmother. I thought it would appease her if I let her try. It’s all poppycock. Total rubbish.

I don’t know if Ann-Marie would see it like that, Adam said.

Ronan sat down heavily upon the sofa.

That is of no consequence. She’s not my mother. I’m an adult and can pretty much do as I like. And as I’ve told you before, even though I’ve bore witness to many weird and wonderful thing since I reacquainted myself with Ann-Marie and now believe more dark tales than my enquiring mind could ever envisage, I think that talking to the dead through a bit of M.D.F, isn’t one of those things I should be unduly concerned about, he paused for a brief moment and lifted a tray of cakes from the table and offered them to Adam. Cream puff? he sarcastically enquired, pursing his lips in light annoyance.

I’m sorry, you’re right, Adam replied apologetically, leaving a sliver of cold embarrassment lingering in the air.

The remainder of that evening was highly uneventful, as Adam’s eyes continually searched the walls of the room striving to gain influence in order to attain a useful and interesting conversation. Adam complimented Ronan on his décor, the tasteful antediluvian movie and book posters hanging on his living room wall. Great Expectations, the David Lean version, and the book, Call of Cthulhu by H.P Lovecraft were his favourite framed artefacts, he felt his eyes being constantly draw to their presence and a deep sense of envy filled him. He attempted to flatter Ronan as the night continued, endeavouring to heal the wound that his concerned actions had inflicted.

It was almost 10p.m by the time Adam bid Ronan a goodnight, and when he was out of view he used his Qareen powers to orb back to the farmhouse, intent on mastering his new-found powers he negated to observe the flashing blue lights that gathered in their intensity and filled the darkness outside of Ronan’s home.

Two

Ann-Marie sat with Jacques on the sofa in the kitchen of the farmhouse; the lights were turned down low and those present weren’t particularly bound to a deep and purposeful conversation, for they were rather enjoying one another’s company, which was peppered with smiles and periods of long, comforting silences.

Outside, the trees were buffeted by a forthcoming wind that raged up the country, proclaiming a dark turn in the autumn weather. Ann-Marie smiled and snuggled deeper into Jacques’ arms.

I love these autumn evenings. It’s lovely when the nights draw in and the world seems to be covered in a dark reassuring blanket and appeases and calms the soul of man.

Actually it has the opposite effect. The amount of house burglaries increase and…

Ann-Marie sat up and looked into Jacques’ eye, stopping him in mid-sentence.

…what? he tentatively enquired.

I was trying to weave a nice and romantic spell and you went and spoilt it, she said with simulated anger.

Jacques laughed. I’m sorry; after all of these years you would have thought that I would have realised how to court a woman.

Ann-Marie stood.

It’s alright. I should be checking on Adam. I haven’t heard him return and I get a bit worried when he’s out late, she looked at Jacques. I know I’m turning into his mother, but he doesn’t have any preternatural powers to protect him.

What, like the ability to orb out of danger? Is that not supernatural enough for you? he retorted.

Ann-Marie laughed. You know what I mean.

Just at that moment, the door to the kitchen opened and Adam entered the room and offered both of his companions a broad and reassuring smile.

How are the two of you this evening? he enquired. Without waiting for a reply he continued. That wind is getting up. I think we’re in for another storm.

I know, we’ve been getting a lot lately. Must be something to do with the climate changes they’re going on about on television, Ann-Marie said.

I don’t know, but all I can say is its getting bloody cold, he looked at Jacques and Ann-Marie for a brief moment. Not that either of you would be able to feel it, he retorted.

How was Ronan? Ann-Marie asked.

He seems fine, a bit preoccupied about issues relating to his research assistant, a girl called Tracy. It appears that her grandmother has died and she came to him requesting he try to contact her through using a Ouija Board.

Well in times of grief, people will try anything to have one last conversation with a loved one, Ann-Marie said. Bit like you and your father, she said with a smirk.

Don’t remind me. That’s one reunion I’d like to forget, Adam said as a shudder rattled down his spine.

At that moment the telephone for Barnstable Farm began to ring in the hallway. Adam took off his coat and walked towards the corridor.

I’ll get it, he said as he left the room.

I wonder who could be calling at this hour? Ann-Marie said, looking at Jacques. It’s just gone midnight.

A matter of a few moments later, Adam returned, his face ashen.

Ann-Marie slowly rose from the chair as fear rose from deep within her.

What’s the matter? she enquired tenderly, as Adams expression resembled that of an animal trapped in a cars headlights.

It’s Ronan. He’s been arrested, Adam mumbled.

What! Ann-Marie exclaimed.

Adam put his hand on his forehead.

No, not arrested, detained, he said, correcting himself.

What do you mean? What for? Ann-Marie asked.

I don’t know, that was someone from some governmental department. They said he was being held in quarantine and we were the only people that he wanted them to contact, Adam replied in a broken tone.

Do we know where he is being held? Jacques enquired.

Adam shook his head.

No, he replied.

It’s alright, I can find him, don’t worry. I’ll get him and bring him here, Ann-Marie said in a determined tone.

Wait, Jacques whispered, endeavouring to calm the rising emotional tone of the conversation. We can’t go rushing in when we don’t know all of the facts. We could be placing Ronan into a greater danger, and that’s the last thing we want to do.

He sat back on the sofa and drew Ann-Marie gently down next to him.

Right, he said, directing his next sentence at Adam. You need a strong cup of black coffee and you need to tell us exactly what Ronan and yourself were discussing, and was there anything suspicious in relation to his behaviour. So we can piece together exactly what could have happened in the time since you left him.

Adam flicked the switch on the kettle and then sat on one of the kitchen chairs next to his companions.

My head’s a bit of a mess; I’m finding all of this a bit difficult to take in, he said. He could feel a nauseating tide of self-imposed guilt rise from deep within. He put his hand on his forehead as beads of sweat began to glisten upon the surface of his skin. I feel like I’m going to be sick.

You’re all right, it’s just the shock, Ann-Marie said, endeavouring to reassure him.

Jacques stood and made his way to the kitchen bench.

You stay there and I’ll make you a cup of coffee, have you had anything to eat? he enquired.

Adam thought for a moment.

Actually, no. Ronan had prepared a lot of food but I sort of got lost in his conversation and forgot to eat.

I’ll make you a sandwich, Jacques replied. He looked over to Ann-Marie and mouthed.

‘Am I turning into his dad?’

Ann-Marie laughed lightly, before turning her attentions back to Adam.

So, can you remember anything that could be appertaining to this quarantine? she enquired.

About our conversation? Well, yeah; we were talking about him using a Ouija Board for his friend Tracy, it was all pretty mundane stuff, nothing out of the ordinary, Adam sat back in the chair. How could this happen, I only left him 30 minutes ago?

Ann-Marie shook her head.

There must be more to this. How can you be talking to someone less than 30 minutes ago and the next thing you know they’re being placed into quarantine by the Government? Things can’t deteriorate that quickly.

"Does he have a history