Catee's Exodus

By Keith Holmes

In the most dragon-infested city in the world, a young knight has sworn his sword. Daniel isn't just tasked with taking back Los Angeles, As a Vigilant, he is sworn to protect the Daelatha, Catee, his sister. The City of Angels has other plans for the young knight, hopes to swallow him up as it has the last two Vigilant who dared try to push back its darkness. But it's Daniel's heart that challenges him most of all,

Her name is Eliana, and she's about to be a big star. But in a dragon's den, one doesn't just become a star. No, there must be control of the 'narrative', and that means mind control. Eliana thinks she's about to become a pop star. The truth is that she is about to run an awful gambit to become a dragon's slave-bride, and only Daniel can save her.

The Vigilant: Catee's Exodus is the continuing story of Catee, a very special young woman with a divine destiny and the gift of healing. Having moved to Los Angeles with her adopted brother, Daniel, a young Knight of the Vigil and her assigned protector, Catee is in hiding, not just from the world but the destiny that beckons her. But when Daniel falls in love with a rising young pop star and it becomes clear that, that pop star has actually fallen prey to a dragon, the Vigilant and his sister set out to rescue her and to banish the darkness from the City of Angels once and for all.

This story includes the usual elements of the paranormal/supernatural, along with an exploration into the Hollywood Illuminati and MK Ultra Mind Control. It's a very timely book given recent things coming to light in the entertainment capital of the world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Keith Holmes
• Release date: Oct 17, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463171127

Keith Holmes

Keith Holmes is a geospatial scientist at the Hakai Institute in Victoria, BC, Canada. He is one of the authors of The Atlas of the Iraqi Marshes, published by the Canadian-Iraq Marshlands Initiative.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Daniel stood uncomfortably at his father's side as both faced the Council of Seneschal. He glanced to his dad. Isaiah stood head and shoulders taller than his son, his face stoic as it often was. He was dressed in the Regalia of a Seneschal and though Daniel was sure of it, he didn't look discomfited in the finery. Daniel was in regalia of his own, that of a new young Knight, raised to such honorable position only a night before, and ready to request his assignment.

Daniel's eyes scanned the room as each Seneschal observed a customary moment of silence before such a meeting. To the young knight it was completely normal but in fact it was a brand new rite. Many things had changed since his father's days of service as the Vigilant of New York. The Knight's of the Vigil had done away with the position of Knight-Master, an empty chair inscribed now to Adthair (God in their natural tongue) sat centered along the half-moon shaped council table. Finally Haziz opened his eyes and stood. Daniel shifted from one foot to the other nervously.

"Hathair Daniel - Brother Daniel, he said, letting a grin slip across his face. Tho adow, ni.... tho thairda, teagai alagra - Your Seneschal, no... your father, has taught you well." Haziz paused and closed his eyes for a moment. Daniel was the first knight born of the same, the first time the word 'father' had been spoken in the chamber without it referring to the Lord.

"Teagai tho un foanachd antha tho thairda. - Teaching you has been my gain, thanks to your father." Haziz and Isaiah shared a kind glance. "A diu'ra tho Alban Dghle, Taranu Alban. A diu'ra Gibrhim. Tara taghme buisnas? - This day you are a knight of the Vigil, a lightening rider. This day you become a Vigilant. Have you chosen where you will serve?"

Daniel could feel apprehension building in him. He'd readied himself for this moment for weeks and he was certain he could do it. But his father's towering presence at his side made him feel like a boy, not a knight. He sucked in a quick breath before he looked to Haziz.

Yes, he said, affirming. Los Angeles.

Isaiah's head snapped to his son, his face angry and shocked. An uncomfortable silence fell upon the councilmen. Daniel glanced to his father and quickly looked away, straightening his spine to address the council.

"Un gwestaich gladaethil agus Adha'el buisnas Los Angeles. Thairda ferun. - I vow my sword in Holy Service to Los Angeles. God with me." At once the formality of the ceremony melted away.

No, Isaiah barked, repeating it louder as he turned to the council. "He's not ready for that infernal place... not capable. I won't give my son to its service."

The council seemed to agree, each teacher looking to the other, nodding yet clearly confused. No one seemed to know what to do. Haziz set his jaw hard as he looked to Daniel and shared a glance. Emmanuel and Ezra stood, each about to reject the request when Daniel took a long, courage-gathering breath and lifted his voice.

Father, he said, looking to Isaiah. Teachers, he continued. "I am not afraid. I know this place, it's history. I know that it has claimed two Vigilant and that it's maw is hungry for more. I know that it has been without a Knight for over thirty-years and I know that, that fact has filled it with dark things," he said, trying his best to hold his head confident and high.

"I also know that it, more than any city upon the Earth, needs me. Me. Not an aspirant behind me. Not a Seneschal before me. It needs me." He took a moment to gather his thoughts and his courage by walking a short circle before the council's table. He made sure to look each Seneschal in the eye as he spoke.

I am not just Alban. I am not just Gibrhim. I am not just Taranu. I am not just Elohim. I am Daelatha. I am one-half Argent Child, he said, finally turning to stand before his father and look into his eyes.

That's right. And as Daelatha, they will hunt you, Isaiah said quietly, shaking his head.

More than if I were just Gibrhim? Daniel asked. "I am both the child of Daelatha and Thon. I am both healer and protector. It is my duty to face the greatest challenge. I was born for it." Isaiah's eyes met the floor and then he looked to the Council.

May I speak with my son? he asked sullenly. As Ezra nodded, he took Daniel by the shoulder and guided him to an adjoining room. As soon as they were alone, he squared his shoulders with his boy.

What are you doing? Isaiah asked, concern in his voice.

What you taught me to do, Daniel said, shifting his gaze. Isaiah shook his head.

Take Boston as we agreed. You'll be close. I can help you, Dylan can... your mother...

Daniel gulped. He wasn't so much afraid of the perils of Los Angeles as much as he was being so far from his family. But his half-brother Dylan had become the Vigilant of New York. And though Boston was much closer, he and his half-sister had made other plans.

I want this dad. I want to be a legend like you are.

Isaiah put his hands on Daniel's shoulder and looked into his eyes.

I'm no legend. I just do my duty, he explained though it wasn't entirely true. The Knights of the Vigil hadn't named a 'Thon' - an honorary title meaning 'champion' - since Emmanuel was awarded it during WWII. Change it son. I'm begging you. For me. For your mother's sake.

I can't. I promised.

Isaiah narrowed his eyes.

Catee put you up to this, he said.

She wants to go. So do I.

You're not capable..., Isaiah lamented, shaking his head.

Haziz says I am capable. These swords say that I am, Daniel interrupted, lifting one of his blades from its sheath and letting it fall back into it. Would you have sent me here if you really thought that?

This isn't a game, Isaiah warned, looking into his boy's eyes. If something happens to you... I... your mother... Daniel's father could never put words to his emotions well. He often evoked his wife's name when he needed to explain how he was feeling. Daniel recognized it immediately.

Nothing will happen to me. I won't be alone. I'll have Catee. Trust me dad. Trust Thairda to protect me.

Humbled, Isaiah turned away. But Daniel could tell he hadn't won yet.

Catee is going with or without me, he added.

Why? Isaiah looked back.

Daniel considered his words carefully. There were things that she'd said in confidence, secrets that she feared might cause her adopted parents some distress.

Because she wants to. Because she's Catee? They're going to assign a knight to protect her dad. It might as well be me.

We'll go with you, Isaiah decided. Daniel threw back his head and rolled his eyes.

Dad... please... What about Dylan?

He'll have Jason and the Church...

Daniel marched to his dad and placed his hands on his father's shoulders.

My father, please.... I know you believe in me. Trust me.

Isaiah's face grew stoic as he considered. Finally, once his mind had exhausted every possible way to get his son to reconsider, he nodded. Daniel smiled but he could feel the apprehension in his father's body.

Antha tho Adthair, Daniel said softly. Isaiah's brow drew down and he sighed a deep sigh. He looked around to make sure they were alone and then he took his son into a bear hug.

"Brealomn nio - I love you boy." He hid the tears welling in his eyes with the hug.

CHAPTER ONE

Daniel walked down the jet-way as he deplaned, his mind engrossed in the enormity of the task ahead of him. He had imagined that this walk, his first into his new city, would be more like the procession of a conquering king but those were the visions of a child. Instead of a trumpet's fanfare he could hear the music trebling though the ear-buds of the kid in front of him and the giggles of the girls who'd appreciated his handsome features from behind. The industrial smell of fuel and the odor of exhausted humanity mingled with the staling yeast of a hot pretzel kiosk that'd closed hours before. Though he didn't need to, he glanced at a clock. His red-eye had arrived early and that meant that she'd be late.

He stepped from the flow of passengers and watched as the night crew emptied the plane's belly of luggage. One of the members of his teenage fan club made sure to wander his way, to pass by as closely as she could in the hopes that a brush might draw his attention. And though she scrubbed gently across his arm, he kept his head down. He wasn't usually shy. Under other circumstances, he may have offered her a smile but not this time. He was worried that the prolonged darkness of the long plane ride might have caused his gifted eyes to glow. Daniel had come to Los Angeles as a ghost. He didn't need attention.

He waited until the flight crew left the jet-way and the door was closed before walking toward the exit. He wasn't in a hurry, in fact he had time to kill, so his gait was purposefully meandering. As he walked he trained his gaze on the row of windows to his side and looked out over the city lights. Curiosity got the better of him.

He walked from the airport into the passenger pick-up, pausing just long enough to see that she wasn't there. He knew it. He could've felt her if she was. He watched for a bit as weary travelers loaded into cars and cabs until finally the place grew quiet. A car pulled from the parking garage. He nodded to himself and headed that way.

Once he'd passed the ticket barrier, he broke into a jog. He ran the length of the building, winding up until he'd reached the top floor, and then he stepped to the edge and looked out. As far as he could see the burning yellow lights of the city stretched. He slowly turned only to find that it surrounded him. It did little to ease the nervous tension in his stomach. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, and then he 'pushed' himself outward, extending his senses. It wasn't some trick he'd learned. His kind had always been able to do it, to cast a sixth sense like a net, telling him where darkness lay. A chill raced his spine and he blew an apprehensive breath as he jerked back his senses. His eyes darted open and he spun slowly. His new home was so full of shadows. He felt his throat go dry and for the first time he wondered if his father was right to question the decision to come here. He stepped close to the edge and wished that Catee was there. She'd know how to calm him down, to reassure him. But she wasn't due for another hour and he didn't have a cell phone to call her, so he squared his jaw and lifted his eyes to the distance again. He reminded himself that his kind wasn't supposed to know fear and drew a bracing breath. Then he cast his sixth sense once again - more cautiously this time, slower. There was darkness near. A black heart raced as a little heart slowed. A whiff of smoke filled his nose. Daniel was ill-prepared to take up the hunt but that didn't matter. An instinct pushed him to the edge of the building and he jumped.

The ground raced toward him but he'd seen the view before. With skill far beyond a normal man, he found footholds and finger ledges that slowed his ascent just enough. Had anyone seen him they would have sworn it was a miracle but for Daniel it was simply the fastest way down. His boots had barely met the earth before he burst into a sprint. It too, was a miracle in its pace.

Daniel scaled a ten-foot fence with the grace of a deer and moved into the streets following the feeling in the hollow of his back. He didn't break stride as he moved into a rough, old neighborhood lined with busted street lights and strewn with trash. He lifted his nose to the air and could smell the remnants of an old fire, it's bitter sting lessened by age. When the smell grew stronger he ran up into the boughs of a large tree and fell silent.

Daniel watched from his high perch, his eyes glowing softly against the backdrop of night. The man below him held a morbid interest, an infernal stink that made the center of Daniel's back twinge, as though wings were trying to sprout their way through his skin.

Aesledhe tho goildche manocc, drakloce? he asked silently, watching with a predatory amusement. Arnold hadn't a clue he was being watched but he fidgeted as though he did. His movements were short and jerky, nervous and chaotic. In the midst of a burned out house he'd dug a tiny, shallow grave about two-feet deep - tripped into it countless times - before he finally nodded at the ash-lined hole. Satisfied and at the same time dissatisfied, he lifted the back of his forearm to his balding head to swipe the sweat from his brow. Steam heat wafted from the top of it and his filthy arm had streaked it with gray.

He stood beside the grave and stared at it for a moment before his brow drew down. Paranoid, he decided he'd dig it deeper and fumbled to swoop his shovel into his long, gaunt fingers. But before he could kick the shovel into the ground a sound made him jump. He wheeled around toward the van where a tiny mewl could be heard, a cough, and the rustling of plastic. Quickly Arnold discarded the shovel and moved to the van, trying to look casual but only appearing more harried.

Daniel's eye twitched when he heard the sound. He looked on as Arnold flung open the van's doors and disappeared behind them. The young knight's heart sunk when he saw him return with a makeshift funeral shroud of garbage bags planked across his arms, an obvious weight within them.

Aesledhe tho goildche manocc, drakloce?

It was the language of his kind, something that you'd expect to hear from the lips of Angels or Elves. The man wouldn't know it, but the force driving him did. What are you doing here serpent? Daniel had asked. Arnold froze in his tracks. His head craned as his body twisted. Involuntarily, like a belch, sound gurgled from his slender throat.

Aegkslicch, he belched. Vigilant.

The human ear would think it simply the sound of spittle, of dislodged phlegm, but Daniel's ears weren't human and he recognized it as the tongue of the dragons.

Glaereth athanine! Daniel spat, as forcefully as his smooth voice would allow. Answer the question.

Arnold's frantic searching gaze finally ended in the boughs of Daniel's tree, his eyes growing wide as saucers when he spied two glowing, blue eyes staring back at him. Arnold trembled with fear as he began to shrink, letting his armload slowly drop to the ground as he took a step back. And then he turned and ran.

Daniel sprinted to the end of his hefty branch and cut the air with his body, spring-boarding an impossible distance to land with graceful thump just before his prey. Arnold ran into him while trying to stop, fell to the ground. Quickly he tried to scramble to his feet but each time he made it up on all fours, Daniel pressed a boot into his back and kicked his belly to the ground.

Where do you think you're going? Daniel growled. After the third time meeting the dirt, Arnold gave up and lay there. He laced his fingers atop his head and cried out.

I want my lawyer! he demanded.

"I'm not talking to you," Daniel thundered, placing a boot in the middle of Arnold's back. Suddenly pain shot through Arnold's skull. He dug at it with his fingers.

Oh god.. ohgod... not again! Slowly the back of Arnold's skull began to distort and a monstrous, reptilian face raised in his skin. Arnold's digging fingers found the inside of its razor-toothed mouth. Repulsed and afraid, he pulled his hands away and began to shake.

Trouble me not Vigilant... you've no offense for me, the thing gurgled.

Were I only a Vigilant, that might be true. But I am Daelatha, wyrm.

S'gli tup! the dragon-drudge screamed. You are.... you are all dead....

Daniel smirked.

I know three, all very much alive. With that Daniel fell to his knees straddling Arnold's back and took his bald head into his hands. The drudge, a Drake's Breath as the Vigilant called them, howled with fright.

No... let us be! Please Vigilant, do not send us back there!

Daniel looked to the bags across the way. the child was moving albeit it slight. Her heart was still beating but it was fleeting. He looked back to the dragon's face angrily.

No pigs today, he said. A soft, white light began to glow within his palms that quickly built bright. Arnold writhed and twisted, as afraid as the drudge that began lashing out in black tendrils, like the wisps of smoke from a cigarette butt being snuffed out. Daniel sneered and he closed his eyes to concentrate. As the light became more intense Arnold convulsed, hurling his head backward, his eyes rolling back in his head.

Thairda, Nio, Adow... Antha , Daniel muttered, every muscle in his gifted body wound tight as he struggled against the spiritual monster in his grasp. Where once there was a monstrous face in the back of Arnold's skull, a black-pus filled blister formed and burst, oozing down its hosts face but rather than simply trickling, the tiny black rivers moves as tendrils, leaving only a dark slime. Arnold fell face first into the muck. Dead wisps of darkness waned into the night sky. Lightening struck and thunder peeled. Daniel stood and moved toward the garbage bags. As he knelt beside them, Arnold rolled over and up onto his knees. He was weeping.

What... what did you do...

You're free, he said quietly, trying not to be angry. But he was disgusted by what Arnold had done, ridden or not. "But you aren't forgiven," he added with a hiss.

Arnold's body bounced as he began to cry, his knuckles falling to the ashen floor before him. Daniel paid him no more heed. Instead he ripped into the end of the bag. Althea was a beautiful little girl. Her face was covered in filth and fresh bruises. She stank of blood and urine but Daniel couldn't help but smile at her. On his hands and knees he grasped the sides of her bloodied head and pushed his lips to her forehead.

Duistvea bioneg, he whispered softly. Awake little one. With that he closed his eyes. That same glow built in his hands. Her pain was great but as he took it unto himself, it was minor. His body was grown and supernaturally strong, though the locations of her pain filled Daniel's mind with rage. Suddenly she coughed to life and then started to cry. He took her into his arms and tried to soothe her shaking form. She jumped when thunder clapped again and rain began to fall.

CHAPTER TWO

Daniel hugged the girl to him as they sheltered from the rain on a nearby porch. It had quickly become a torrent but Arnold hadn't moved a muscle, prostrate in an ash gray mud puddle as he faced his dark night of the soul. Daniel wondered if he searched in earnest or if he was just too afraid to try to escape. He also wondered how best to handle the situation that had presented itself. He'd been studying a lit window nearby as he considered calling the police when suddenly, the police presented themselves.

A procession of cruisers, lights and sirens blazing, lead by one unmarked car came barreling through the storm. They surrounded the old, burned out house and doors flew open as officers drew their weapons on Arnold. He didn't move an inch. A blonde woman, attractive save for a gnarly scar that split her upper lip beyond her nose, marched to him, her weapon trained.

Your mother told us everything Arnold! she barked, as though she knew the man. Where is she? Where's Althea?

Arnold didn't answer. In fact he was oblivious to it all. The detective inched warily closer trying to see if he had anything in his hands. As soon as she could, she planted a foot in his back and kicked him to his belly. The moment he splashed down she planted a knee hard atop him and snatched his wrist with a steel cuff. The other officers ran in as well, surrounding the fallen pedophile. Daniel stepped back into a shadow as he watched. Arnold lay like a zombie, alive but lost inside his own mind. The woman hit him in the top of his bald head, hard enough to draw blood. The driving rain wicked away the oozing crimson as she spat at him again.

WHERE?

Still distant, he answered.

"He took her."

Who took her? Who's he? the detective demanded.

Him... the angel... the angel took her, he droned. The detective assumed the worst and her face filled with pain.

Where is she...? she repeated, hr body trembling in fear that they were too late , the gun shaking in her hand. A cop leaned in to talk to her, trying to calm her down before she pulled the trigger. A voice rang out.

Not here! All eyes found an officer at the back of the van. Daniel spoke softly to the little girl in his arms.

Althea, I need for you to go with the police, okay?

She squeezed his neck tighter and shook her head. He squeezed back, and lamented having to break his promise to protect her.

We're gonna get wet, he warned gently, stepping off the porch. She knew what was happening. She began crying, screaming a protest. But before her screams could draw the attention of even one policeman, Daniel gently placed her in the cruiser and closed the door.

She's here, Daniel's shouted. All eyes turned to the sound. A sopping wet little girl sat in the passenger seat of a police cruiser, her palms pressed to the glass as she cried out for the man who wasn't there anymore.

***

Catee paced the airport pick-up area, searching for him. She'd already scoured the building and was beginning to get worried, her blue eyes catching the stares of a security guard whom, she expected to ask her to move along at any moment. She was about to head into the airport when cold, wet, strong arms wrapped around her and gave her a rain-drenched hug. She spun in his arms and pushed away.

You're soaked! she squealed. He nodded and smiled mischievously. She shook her head and fell into his arms. The smell of her platinum blonde hair was familiar and welcoming. Good flight?

He nodded softly.

I love you.

She laughed. Daniel had rarely been away from her or any of their family. Going to the Secret Place must have been hard for him, she figured.

Brealomn, I love you too. she said in a language only he would understand.

You're not supposed to know that language, he chuckled, taking her by the hand as they turned toward the car.

I'm supposed to know all languages, she pointed out.

"Apparently not all of them, he said. That one was made for us."

Well you three shouldn't have used it in front of me and mom. She was speaking of her father and their brother Dylan, each of them Elohim.

Mom didn't learn it, he pointed out.

Catee smiled wide.

She knows more than you think.

His brow drew down.

Uh oh, he worried as he put a hand on the passenger door. A thrill ran his spine and he turned to search. She noticed his seeking and quickly pushed his door open from the driver's seat.

Not thinking of hitting the ground running are you? she asked.

This place is a mess, he said, his voice deeper, more foreboding.

You haven't even met your Chronica. And I'm betting you don't even have a sword.

They're in your trunk, he said, his eyes still scanning the LA skyline. Her mouth twisted as he pointed out her ruse. His swords had been sent to her days before.

Not yet Daniel, She said with a plea in her voice. "You haven't even seen your