Blind Faith (Book 1)

Chapter 34

Aimee

"Here we are, the village of Abbotts," said Leon flashing a cheeky grin as he pulled the Jaguar up outside a thatched cottage. Aimee frowned at the big buffoon; she wanted to hit him. If he hadn't moaned so much about it being his turn to drive, Emma wouldn't have insisted on the keys.

She snatch the door handle in frustration and jumped out slamming the door behind her. It sounded like the first crack of thunder before a storm, echoing off the buildings all around. She trembled from the eerie sound, clasping her hand around the handle of her weapon, her eyes searching the area as she used her holy aura out, feeling for anything unusual or unnatural. Her sapphire earring burned in reply.

A dark corruption lingered around a house a little further up the road. The Intel from her contact was spot on; she could feel the Daemons as if she could feel the breeze on her face.

"We are not alone," she whispered. Both Emma and Leon paused and stared at her. "The village is too quiet," she added.

Leon gently shut his car door and winked at Aimee, emphasizing her error in slamming hers. She ground her teeth, refusing to react to the buffoon.

Time was short and Aimee had to find her contact quickly. The coded message on her phone was not forthcoming but she could read between the lines that they were in danger.

Aimee's gaze scanned her surroundings, Abbotts was a picturesque country village, the type of village you would find on any British postcard. However, Aimee could not ignore the feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach.

The Village was built around one long stretch of road, half a mile long, on a gentle rise, with small traditional thatched English cottages, lined on either side. All the houses were the same and positioned the same distance apart, with four black-framed windows at the front with a black door in the middle. Each house was set back ten yards or so from the road. Not a single house had a front garden or any bedding plants, shrubs or trees, only well-kept grass and a cemented driveway for their cars. She noted that no one could enter the village or a cottage without prior knowledge of half the street.

Was that the intention, the design?

Leon had parked the car just a few houses along the road on the right-hand side. Aimee could make out a church steeple a hundred yards further up the hill on the same side of the road; further, along at the very top of the hill, a large white building encroached on the natural flow of the street and had the look of a pub or Inn.

On the journey here, Leon had pulled out the little red book he always kept in one of his pockets and started reading about the history of the Village. While he was meant to be driving, Emma chastised him for breaking the law. He just laughed and carried on reading. Aimee had always been curious about the book of Uriel and wanted to get her hands on it, to find out how it worked. Another secret of the Holy Architects and crafters. It was a magical or holy book of endless knowledge. But the big buffoon was very protective of it and never had it out for long and never let anyone but himself touch it.

Leon read out from the book, that a local Lord in the late 1800s had built these houses for his staff, away from his estate a couple of miles further down the road in a small valley, which turns out to be the actual Manor house of Gabriel.

It stirred up a bit of commotion in the Anglican Church and the Local Lords and Barons. Authorization went as high as the King and Arch Bishop. Leon put the book away, saying there was not a lot more about it, of interest and wouldn't help them.

Yes, I would love to get my hands on that book...

"Aimee?" inquired Emma, curiously tilting her head to one side like she always did when she was thinking. "You ready?"