Blind Faith (Book 1)

Chapter 6

 Aimee

Aimee slipped the mobile phone into her jeans and gently pulled the bungalow door shut behind her. She had contacted the Holy cleaners, and they were on their way to fix the disturbing nightmare behind that door.

She released a long deep sigh and wiped a sleeve across her eyes. The material came away damp, the lump in her throat catching all the air within. Aimee clasped her trembling hands together attempting to lock down the fire burning inside.

It lasted only a heartbeat, enough for her to recklessly throw a fist against the wall of the building, the impact cracking the mortar, sending spiderweb-like trenches away in all directions along the brick. Another heartbeat and she jolted back in shock, her emotions unravelling to disappointment and guilt. She spun away from the damage she had created, her hands remaining clenched into fists, small balls of anger, as she pulled them tight to her sides.

Calm...calm...Stay strong for Archangel Michael.

The reek of death, clung to her clothes and seeped in to burn her skin, she glanced over her shoulder, the images of what lay behind that small dove-coloured door, branded her mind and chilled Aimee to the pit of her stomach.

Who would murder a retired Nun? And in such a violent way?

A distant memory from an ancestor flashed in her mind's eye, revealing a similar horrifying scene nearly a hundred years ago in Rome, that finally lead the investigation to the Vatican. The local papers ended up naming it the Vatican murders.

For nearly a year Aimee's ancestor had searched Rome and the Vatican City for the killer, only for the trail to go cold with the beginning of the First World War. This time, understanding the full extent of her mission, and Liana's plan, Aimee knew she would not fail again. No one would stand in her way or prevent what needed to be done.

The naivety and arrogance of the Holy Council even back then had hindered her ancestor's investigation, today it would be different and on her terms. Maybe the pompous fools had finally realised their past mistakes, swallowed their pride and pulled their fat heads out from their asses. But in her heart, Aimee knew it was a fantasy ideal, the Holy Council was more likely plotting and conniving for more power and more influence in the modern world, and she was just another piece on their board game.

No, they wouldn't change, she paused and pondered her last thoughts and nodded to herself. On the surface Aimee knew the Holy Council would remain strong and united, their propaganda machine promoting their mercy and forgiveness towards her, and her past sins. The Acolyte of Archangel Michael is free again to save humanity.

I will stay free...

But she also knew they couldn't continue to hide behind the lies, the bureaucracy, the truth was out in the open and festering too close to the surface, plain for the world to see. This terrified the Holy Council, it terrified her, however, they knew she was the only one capable of doing what was needed. She had done it before and she must do it again. The trial of the Fallen had once again begun and this time she will be ready.

I will not fail...Archangel Michael, guide me and give me strength.

Aimee closed her eyes to gather her thoughts and regain control of her emotions. She blinked open her eyes and peered up at the morning sky, as streams of orange, shot from the morning sun, fighting against the deep dark blues of the night. A rare smile slipped to her lips.

At least it had stopped raining...

She dropped her hand to the side, realizing subconsciously she had been rubbing the sapphire of Michael in her left ear. The stud pulsed, flaring in response, causing Aimee to lower her gaze towards the city of Brighton further along the south coast. A beacon of corruption and evil, and here in this coastal town, was the first indication of the impending war, and it terrified Aimee. She had to find what had created the unforgivable scenes behind that door, and quickly before it killed again. At the very least Mother Luisa deserved redemption.

Aimee suddenly hissed in pain, as the jewel burned in her ear. It was like a sudden change had occurred in the natural balance all around her and she felt a pulling sensation on her own Holy Aura, the true essence of her union with Archangel Michael. The blue sapphire in her ear resonated with the change, burning with a deep hunger, drawing her gaze up to the roof above.

Aimee growled under her breath and sprung back, flipping her body up on the tiles of the roof. She snapped her gaze to her right as a red blur dropped over the opposite side. Aimee's Aura burned as she took hold of her holy power and lunged towards the area. She did not hesitate and flipped over the edge expecting to fight, her hand within her jacket, her hidden blade resonating in anticipation.

Empty...nothing but rocks and wood?

She scanned the area allowing a tight smile to slip upon her passive features. Why deny the pleasure she felt within, the elation of holding her Lord's Holy power while searching for one of the reasons for her existence? It teased her, eager to be hunted. Aimee could feel the gentle tug, pulling her along, enticing.

A movement to her left, along a neighbouring roof, grabbed her attention and Aimee grinned, this was indeed a game. Her quarry was on the move. A very capable animal at that. The abomination was quick and skilled at masking themselves, but not from her.

Aimee unleashed her holy power and moved at such speed the human eye would see nothing but a shadow, a blur of colour at best. She paused for a brief moment on the opposite building and stared off into the distant city, narrowing her gaze at where she was being led. Aimee had no choice and sprung down and disappeared into the shadows and became the wind, to make chase.

The fire of Michael was back and she would not fail.