Chapter 16
Haatim noticed that the external security grid seemed to ramp up around the hotel each time another Council member showed up. Eleven such members resided here now, counting Frieda, which meant that only two more were on their way before deliberations could begin in Frieda Gotlieb’s trial.
Haatim grew used to seeing the armed guards parked at every entrance. It felt like a prison state, and they and the electric fence had become a part of the scenery.
It had to be insanely expensive paying for all this security, which explained why they rarely gathered in one location. It seemed like even more of a waste because of the conversation he’d had with his father the night before. Now that the trial would only be a formality, it seemed like a complete waste of money.
Dominick stayed busy more often than not now, often driving or flying in Council members, depending on the weather. Haatim hadn’t spoken to him since their last meeting and knew Dominick remained annoyed with him. They had trained this morning, but neither of them had spoken more than a handful of words.
Haatim didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t tell Dominick the secret that his father had told him, and he couldn’t think of a good lie to explain why he’d blown Dominick off.
Instead of talking, Dominick put his emotions into the fight and beat the crap out of Haatim, leaving him bruised.
Still, in the grand scheme of things, he felt healthy and happy with how things went. Haatim worried almost constantly about Abigail and how she’d gotten on. Also, he worried about whether or not his father had told him the truth. The more he thought about it, the less sure he felt. No way could the kind-hearted girl he’d met do something like that.
He didn’t know where she’d gone, if she remained safe, or what she might do, but at least his father had called off the hunt for her for now. After the trial finished, Haatim would try to find her and prove her innocence.
But, for now, he grew bored. Barely after noon, he had nothing else to do with his day. The trial hadn’t started, Dominick wasn’t around, and he had a lot of pent up energy and nothing to spend it on.
Luckily, the Council traveled with an extensive library of books, and Haatim pored over them with a voracious appetite. Many of them covered the history of the Council of Chaldea or the Order of Hunters. Some of them spoke about the cults and creatures they’d battled throughout the years, and all of them proved interesting.
The records seemed rudimentary and incomplete. By his best guess, the Council had formed around the twelfth century with a group of four men and a woman, all peasants, in response to the times. They had expanded in the ensuing years and branched out, becoming a multi-faith and multicultural organization dealing with otherworldly threats.
Now, Haatim relaxed in his room, engrossed in an account from the sixteenth century about the life of a renowned Hunter. His phone buzzed. He slipped it out of his pocket and glanced at it.
His mother.
He’d gone to visit her a handful of times while at the Council building, but it felt exhausting. She knew nothing about this life that he shared with his father, and so it became difficult for him to speak with her at all.
Haatim didn’t like to lie to his mother, yet the situation demanded that of him. He sympathized with his father’s decisions because, as much as he wanted to tell his mom the truth, it remained in her best interest to keep it from her.
As a result, they couldn’t exchange any conversation beyond pleasantries. Still, he liked visiting her because the first remark she always made was about how much healthier and stronger he looked and how proud she felt of him.
He clicked the answer button. “Hey, Mom,” he said.
“Haatim?” she said. “Can you come see me? We need to talk about something.”
“What?” he asked.
“I just need to see you. It’s important. Can you come to my apartment?”
“What is it?” he asked. “Is something wrong?”
“No,” she said. He could hear the lie in her voice. “Nothing is wrong. I just need to talk to you about something.”
He hesitated, not sure if something was off or if, maybe, she might have overreacted to something. His mom considered most things to be meltdown events, but Haatim detected a hint of fear in her voice.
Had she discovered something about the Council? Had he (accidentally) given her clues about what he and his father did?
Or something less sinister? Like, perhaps, he should have called her and had forgotten. Most probably, the list of things she’d asked him to do in the last few months that he never accomplished would be a long one. They all seemed like silly things now.
“All right,” he said. “I can come tomorrow.”
“I need you to come over now,” she said.
“I’m busy, and the weather is supposed to storm tonight,” he said.
“This is important, Haatim,” she said. “I need to see you right away.”
He sighed. “Okay, I’m on my way.”
He hung up and headed out of his room. Along the way, he grabbed his coat; they’d forecasted one hell of a storm tonight.
When he made it to the lobby, he spotted Dominick sitting in the foyer and talking to an old man, who wore orange robes. He looked to be from a Southeast Asian monastery. Probably Theravada Buddhist—something Haatim had grown familiar with in his studies.
The man rose, bowed, and smiled when Haatim approached, and he returned the gesture. Then the man headed toward the elevator. With a hint of jealousy, Haatim watched him step inside. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d ridden in one of those.
“There you are,” Dominick said, as Haatim came up to him. “I haven’t seen you all morning. Was about to come looking for you.”
“I was just up in my room reading.”
“You should have exercised,” Dominick said.
“It is exercise,” Haatim said. “For the mind.”
Dominick chuckled. “Working out your mind won’t make your abs any tougher. Where you headed?”
“Back to the city,” Haatim said. “I need to talk to my mom.”
“Oh? What’s she need?”
“No clue,” Haatim said. “She seemed particularly vague tonight.”
“Mothers,” Dominick said, laughing and shaking his head. “Need a lift?”
“No, I’m good.”
“I’ve seen you drive on snow. You shouldn’t be behind the wheel.”
“You don’t have anything else to do?”
“Nah, I’m in the clear. Savin was the last to arrive. The trial starts tomorrow.”
“Wow,” Haatim said.
It had taken such a long time to start Abigail’s trial that he found it hard to believe it had only taken a few weeks to commence this one against Frieda.
“I’ll drive you in,” Dominick said. “I need to refuel the helicopter and get it ready before I start flying people out. It’s supposed to storm all night, so I’d rather get this stuff done sooner instead of later.”
“All right,” Haatim said.
He followed Dominick out of the building. Though windy, no snow fell yet. The days grew shorter, but they’d almost reached the solstice and would start lengthening soon. Haatim looked forward to having more than a couple of good hours of sunlight each day.
It took ten minutes of waiting for the gate crew to clear them this time. A lot of faces, Haatim didn’t recognize, but once the pair got on their way, they made good time. Dominick drove up the roads with practiced ease, and Haatim had to hand it to him for how well he could control vehicles. A natural.
“I’m worried for Frieda,” Dominick said, as they drove. “I didn’t think it would come to this. I thought they would drop the charges against her before calling in a full trial.”
“Neither did I,” Haatim said.
“Your father has never been Frieda’s biggest fan. After she let Abigail escape, he must have decided he would push this to the final conclusion.”
“Maybe,” Haatim said. “But I don’t think things will go too poorly for Frieda in this trial.”
“What do you mean? Did you speak to him about it?”
“I did. When I left you the other day, they wouldn’t let me in to talk with Frieda, but I went to my father and confronted him. I’m sorry I brushed you off. I just didn’t want you to get involved in family stuff.”
“No, I get it. I’m not mad or anything. I felt a bit hurt at first, but I’m over it. How’d that meeting with your father go?”
“Still finding out, for the most part,” Haatim said. “I’ll let you know how things went after the dust settles. I did talk to him about Frieda.”
“Oh?”
“I told him I disagreed with his opinion, and that Frieda doesn’t deserve treatment like this.”
“How’d he take that?”
“He said he’ll stop pushing so hard and that he’ll try probation and re-evaluation after a few years without her having control of the Hunters.”
“So she won’t be in charge of us anymore, but she’ll still be on the Council?”
“Essentially,” Haatim said.
“That seems reasonable, I suppose. In my opinion, they should just free her and admit this was all a stupid error of judgment, but I guess that’s why I’m not in charge. After all, failing to stop Abigail from escaping isn’t the same thing as freeing her.”
“She did let Abi go,” Haatim said.
“They don’t know that,” Dominick said, giving him a look. “Besides, the alternative meant allowing them to finish murdering Abigail, and we don’t want that.”
“No. Definitely not.”
“Then, that means Aram won’t even push for her execution anymore. He doesn’t even want her removed from the Council? But just wants them to strip her of the Hunters and give them to someone else to command?”
“Himself,” Haatim said. “I’m sure he’s next in line.”
“Bingo,” Dominick said. “I talked to a bunch of Hunters out in the field, and they won’t be too happy with any regime changes. Aside from a few bad apples, Frieda has complete control. Even if Aram gets control for a couple of years, he won’t manage to do much before the Council reinstates Frieda.”
The words reassured Haatim. He’d met a few of the Council members, and they all seemed intelligent and forthright people, and not quick to react or make snap decisions. The one obvious thing was that they all had a healthy respect for, or fear of, Frieda Gotlieb and her family name.
The name had come up many times while Haatim read the history books. Two of her ancestors stood among the original founding members. He’d seen mention of divinity and angels in the earliest stories, which meant that the original four remained highly revered.
Frieda made for the last living relative of that blood line, and from everything that Haatim had garnered, she didn’t have any children or a husband, which meant the line would probably die out with her. He’d hoped to ask her about that before the Council put the ban in place to keep him away from her.
They reached the apartments his mother occupied, and Dominick drove up to the lobby entrance.
“Need me to stick around and wait?” he asked.
“No,” Haatim said. “I have no idea what she needs, so this could take hours.”
“Just call me when you’re ready to head back,” Dominick said. “I’ll be at the airport.”
Haatim climbed out and went into the complex. Dominick disappeared down the road, heading east.
While Dominick’s words had reassured Haatim, they also worried him. Right now, the Council sat divided and looking inward, but as soon as the trial finished, they would turn their attention outward again.
Their first target would be hunting down Abigail.
Worse, his father would be in charge of the Hunters. He had no doubt that Abigail could take care of herself, but he’d also seen how ruthlessly efficient some of the other Hunters were. Surviving against all of them …
That seemed like something else entirely.
He would need to act fast if he were to find Abigail first. He had no doubt that his father would hold up his word and let Haatim go after her first, but too many unsuccessful attempts and his father would revert to his original plan.
Would Abigail even trust him? Things hadn’t ended well, so if he did reach out and try to find her, would she steer clear? How could he convince her of his intentions to try and keep her safe?
Moreover, if he did bring her in, would it be to face another trial and execution? To leave her out would mean they would hunt her down and kill her, but bringing her in might end up getting her killed regardless.
He didn’t know what to do but would need to figure it out soon. The trial would be over shortly, and his father would take charge.
Haatim reached his mother’s hotel room on the third floor and tapped on the door.
“It’s open,” she called from within.
He turned the knob and stepped into the room. She stood in the center of the seating area. His father stood next to her.
Haatim tensed up. Had she discovered their secret? Did she plan to confront them? Or, was this just an innocent get together that she’d organized to try and have a family dinner—something they hadn’t had in a while?
“Dad? What’s up?” he asked.
Aram frowned and glanced at the floor, clearly uncomfortable. “Haatim …”
“Is everything all right?” He turned to his mother. “What’s going on?”
His voice trailed off when he saw a third person step out of the bedroom, gun in hand. Nausea overwhelmed him when he recognized her. The room spun in his vision.
A tall woman in her early twenties, wearing traditional garb from his hometown, stood there. She looked as beautiful and sweet as he remembered. They’d grown up together.
“Nida,” he breathed.
His sister smiled. “Hello, Haatim,” she said. “Did you miss me?”
