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"Look, I know you probably have a lot of questions," Remy continued.
"What were those things?" she suddenly asked, struggling to sit up in the shapeless chair. The questions started to spill from her, the sense of anxiety growing. "What do they have to do with Jon… with you? I don't fucking understand any of this."
"Calm down," Remy said. "Take some deep breaths. I don't expect you to understand what's going on, but I need you to trust me. Something very bad is going to happen if I don't find Jon soon."
Casey listened, her breathing coming in trembling gasps.
"I need you to tell me everything about the night he left — every single detail, no matter how unimportant it might seem."
She repositioned herself in the chair, bringing her legs up underneath her. "I'll try," she said, ru
"You want some coffee?" Francis asked.
Remy gave the man a stern look. "She ca
"No need to get snippy," Francis said, walking into the quaint kitchen area. "Sometimes it just doesn't pay to be sociable."
Shaking his head, Remy returned his attention to the girl. "He's getting you some water."
"Thanks," she said, struggling to find a smile. "That night was sort of like a lot of nights around that time. I'd come home from work and Jon would be locked in his study."
"Here ya go, sweetheart," Francis said, handing her a full glass of water.
She took it from him and had a large sip right away.
"And he was in the study that night when you got in?"
Casey wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Yes, I could hear him in there, talking to himself."
"Any idea what he was saying?"
"It was all muffled, but he sounded upset. I could hear him moving around, pacing… the desk drawers slamming," she said, her gaze distant as she relived the past.
She sipped some more water. "I was about to start making supper when I heard the door unlock and he came out. I was kind of shocked to see him… It had been days."
Francis tightened the belt on his bathrobe. "So you were okay with your boyfriend locking himself in a room for days on end?"
"Francis," Remy scolded.
"I'm just asking," he retorted defensively.
"It's all right," Casey said. "I sort of have a pattern when it comes to relationships. The weird ones with issues are always drawn to me."
"Hit the jackpot with the last one," Francis grumbled beneath his breath.
"I think it might be wise for you to go sit over there," Remy said, turning his gaze to the vacated recliner.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Francis said. "It's okay to save your ass from the Black Choir, but try and help you out with a case and it's a capital fucking offense."
Remy sighed, returning his full attention to Casey. "So, he finally left his study…."
"Yeah, he looked awful. I wanted to go to him… you know, to comfort him… but something prevented me."
"Were you afraid of him?" Remy asked in his calmest of voices.
At first she looked shocked, hurt, but then he saw the realization dawn upon her face. "Yes, yes I was. At that moment, I was afraid of him." Casey started to cry. "Isn't that awful? Going through whatever it was he was going through, and I was too afraid to comfort him."
Remy tried to keep her in the moment. "Did he say anything?"
Casey sniffed, bringing her hand up to wipe her ru
"Did he take anything with him?" Remy asked. "Something to show that he maybe wasn't pla
Slowly, she shook her head. "He stared at me for a minute after telling me that he was going, and then he left." Casey paused, her gaze cloudy, and then Remy watched her expression change.
"What is it? Did you think of something?"
"His briefcase," she said, eyes focused back on him.
"What about his briefcase?"
"He had it with him, but the only time he carried that was when he was going to work… to school."
Remy was on his feet. "I think I'd like to check out Jon's office at Mass Tech."
The woman got off the beanbag chair. "I can take you," she said.
"No," Remy said firmly.
She looked as though she'd been struck. "Why?"
"You're just going to have to trust me," the angel explained. "It would be best if you stayed with Francis."
Francis waved from the recliner. "Don't worry, I don't bite."
"He's kind of… y'know, weird," she said speaking softly so that only Remy could hear.
"Yeah, you're right about that, but there isn't anybody that I'd trust your safety with more. Please do what I ask."
"I'm go
"We're all going to be crying if I don't find what I'm looking for," Remy said, fishing his car keys from his pocket.
"You might want to think about changing your location," Remy told his friend as he walked to the door. "The Black Choir knows we're here, remember."
"Good point." Francis opened the door for him. It was still raining hard outside. "Safe house?"
"Probably the best bet." Remy turned the collar of his jacket up as he prepared for his run to the car.
"I'll give you a call when we're settled," Francis told him.
Remy darted out into the downpour. "Hey, Chandler," Francis called to him.
Remy stopped at the car, opening the door as he waited to hear what Francis had to say.
"I know it's tough, but don't do anything stupid."
He wished he could've made that kind of promise, but those times had long passed.
Stupid may have been all that he had left.
The rain was coming down in a diagonal sheet now, but it was late enough — or was it early? — that traffic was still relatively light.
He wasn't far from the city campus of Massachusetts Technology and drove a little bit faster than he should, but time was of the essence, as his last dream of the Horsemen had shown him.
Remy found his phone and dialed Lazarus' number. The immortal answered on the third ring.
"You all right?" the man asked.
"It's all relative," Remy answered.
"What's up?" Lazarus wanted to know.
"I'm going to need you to back up Francis," he said.
"Something in motion?"
"Yeah, you could say that," Remy replied. "Somebody's out to start the Apocalypse, and they're looking for the scrolls," he said, speaking louder than normal to be heard over the steady deluge of water that was battering his car.
"Well, we're still here, so they haven't had any luck, I'd guess," Lazarus said.
"Yeah, but not for want of trying. Israfil's girlfriend and I were attacked by the Black Choir at her apartment. They were the same ones who roughed me up at the office. I don't think they're smart enough to be doing this on their own, so I'm guessing they're taking orders from somebody else."
"The Black Choir?" Lazarus sounded surprised. "You'd have to be wielding some serious power to keep them on a leash."
"That's what I'm afraid of," Remy said, as he drove over the Harvard Bridge into Cambridge. "I think somebody is very serious about ending the world, and I doubt there's anything they wouldn't do to accomplish their goals."
"What can I do?" the immortal asked.
"Go to the safe house, give Francis a hand with protecting the girl. I'm going to check out where Israfil's human aspect was working before he up and disappeared."
"Got it," Lazarus said, but before Remy could end the call, the man began speaking again. "It… it's close to happening, isn't it, Remy?" Lazarus said, a hint of something that could very well have been fear tainting his voice.
"Closest we've ever been, I think," Remy said. "And we're not out of the woods yet, by far."