"Yes," Lilith said flatly. "I do recall the incident--which is when silver gained power as a weapon to be forever used against us as a result."
Her husband waved his hand to dismiss the loss and kept talking. "This text that came out of Coptic Ethiopia was hidden in the Valley of the Kings and protected by the Kemetians until the grave was robbed. My goal then was to have the graves disturbed by mortal men, knowing we were coming upon the end of days . . . and then have the manuscript with the secret name burned. I had to get it out of the hands of the Neteru
Council--because as you and I well know, if anyone with a soul knows a demon's true name, they can rebuke it. At a time like this I can ill-afford to have the two Neterus come into such knowledge. Their Neteru Council in spirit cannot say the name of the Thirteenth, cannot tell them, as no being of Light can outright call a demon's name. That was the beauty of my plan to have the manuscript stolen."
He let out another hard breath. "I thought I had procured the manuscript, but as you know, human will and human greed is a very fickle thing--a double-edged sword that cuts both ways. Greed led those humans to try to profit from me and then attempt to sell it for three million dollars, rather than listen to my whispering and bring it to me. Damn free will! Although I punished the troublesome fools, that information is still out there in general circulation."
"But it is out there in a mistranslation . . . and with all that is going on, and with almost all of the Covenant clerics gone, who shall interpret obscure texts for the Neterus, hmm?" Lilith soothed.
"When I release laldabaoth upon the earth, his job is singular--to dry up the Euphrates and cause havoc in the region so that I may release my four dark avengers, which he will then lead . . . the ones who have been prepared for an hour, a day, a month, and a year to slay a third part of men. The Thirteenth will ready my troops during the year long drought and then release my four dark angels, those most loyal to me when I fell from grace."
He turned to Lilith, excitement shimmering in his bottomless black eyes. "His horsemen will number two hundred thousand thousand. They will wear brimstone breastplates and fire and brimstone will issue from their mouths ... it will be beautiful."
"It will come to pass ... I do not understand your concern."
Lilith said, walking to stand before the globe. She stared at the Euphrates basin that encompassed Turkey, Syria, Iraq, and Iran.
"Look at all the hell that's breaking loose over there as we speak. Why would you doubt that one of the four rivers that flow from the original location of the Garden of Eden would not dry up in the end of days as prophesized? It is in the Old Testament, even in some of the hadiths of the Prophet Muhammad that this will happen . . . that when the riverbed dries, men will fight over the riches they find there, and ninety-nine out of a hundred will die."
Concern knit her brow as she studied her unresponsive husband. "After the sixth seal is broken, the Light gets to do the Rapture--fine, fine, so they get to take all their goody-two-shoes people up to wherever . . . and then the world is ours. We get to break the seventh seal and just become ridiculous ... six great plagues come after that. You know we'll have something particularly dreadful planned by then . . . like a coming-out party for our son. He'll bring order to the chaos, once we're finished having a little fun with the left-behind humans, and he'll seem like the dark prince he is. He'll have them eating out of the palm of his hand, just to have their old creature comforts back-- principles and moral compasses be damned. Humans are so gullible. Don't worry. They're weak. Easy to guide and tempt."
She opened her arms, going to her husband when he still didn't answer her, his eyes fixed on the globe. "You are winning, darling," she murmured, hugging him. "The mark of the beast is only a matter of time--humans are afraid of the virus carried on currency worldwide. Survivors will have to embed a chip in their bodies to buy or sell, to eat, to survive. What brings this unusual bout of melancholy to you at a time like this?"
He wrapped her in his arms and then covered them both with his dark wings. "What concerns me is that Sebastian was right and I didn't catch it early on ... the female Neteru was pregnant. I didn't give him his due because he pissed me off. That little bitch should have stood his ground and made me hear the truth--if he hadn't caved we would have known sooner. Still, I shouldn't have missed that!"
"That's all right, because we know now," she said quietly, laying her head on his shoulder.
"What also concerns me, Lilith, is that as much as I hate to admit it, Nuit and Vlad are right. All this is bullshit, if I can't find my sixth seal and that Neteru child lives."
Chapter FIVE
The moment Damali stepped out of the confessional and the man who'd been in a booth next to her came out crying, he knew this had been a bad idea. The older man was no soldier, was just an innocent--a potential victim. Carlos pushed off the stone wall and walked toward the twosome and shook his head as Damali hugged the man.
"Mr. Sinclair, this is my husband, Carlos."
"Monty," the man sniffed, clearly overcome as he continued to wipe his eyes and nose with a very used handkerchief. "It's short for Montrose and what my friends and family call me . . . used to call me when they were alive." The short, stout man wiped his eyes again and then dabbed perspiration from the bald horseshoe in the center of his head.
"Your wife is an angel," Monty pressed on between stifled sobs. "She knew things about my life that not even some of my closest friends knew. She told me things about my Eleanor . . . and told me she could communicate with my wife on my behalf to tell her things I never got to say to her. I am indebted to your wife for the rest of my life. I will pilot you wherever you want to go--free of charge. I've been waiting all my life for my life to have meaning."
"Yeah, she has that effect on people," Carlos said flatly, gently tugging on Damali's arm. "Can I have a word with you, D? Before we go upsetting Mr. Sinclair any further?"
Damali arched an eyebrow. "Sir, if you just give me a moment to talk to my husband?"
Monty nodded and staggered to a pew. "Take as long as you need."
The moment Mr. Sinclair was out of earshot, Carlos dropped his voice and spoke through his teeth.
"D, are you crazy? What's the matter with you? I thought we were supposed to be getting the boat without a civilian passenger? You know how dangerous this shit is!"
"Shush!" she hissed back, and glanced around. "First, stop cussing in church."
"Aw'ight, my bad," he said, holding up his hands in front of his chest. "But you feel me, D? That old guy just lost his wife and kids, is in mourning, and probably never shot a gun in his life, let alone seen any of the craziness we have. Now you want to put him on the high seas with a boat of targeted Guardians, during the last days, and--"
"I know it sounds bad, Carlos," she said, talking low and fast. "But--"
"Sounds bad? Sounds bad? It is bad, Damali. It's insane-- socially irresponsible, is what it is!"
"Keep your voice down. He's doing this of his own free will. I told him--"