Victory of Coins (The Judas Chronicles, #7) by Aiden James Read Free Book Online

if Kaslow shows up before we leave... what then?”
    I had no answer for that. In truth, neither did Roderick. We had been at the mercy of Kaslow and Krontos, waiting for either one—or both—to resurface for the better part of two years... until Thursday evening, when Kaslow dropped back into our lives. In the past, his presence had always been for the worst, and that was all we had to go on for now.
    Tit For Tat.... What in the hell kind of message is that?
    “Did you notice the scent on the linen?” Roderick asked.
    “Not really... just a little pine and some kind of flower... like jasmine, perhaps,” I replied. “Why?”
    “It might not be important,” he said. “But it appears from the evidence—mainly from when I examined the grade of the linen material—it’s authentic. By my guess, 1850’s or 1860’s. Yet, the scent seems fresh—not aged. Even the charcoal appears fresh....”
    “I’m not following where you’re going with this,” I confessed. “You think it’s all significant, somehow?”
    “I’m not sure,” he said, pausing to drink the rest of his brandy. “But until we know for certain what Kaslow intends, we need to look at everything with the highest level of scrutiny. The linen, for instance, seems fresh despite its obvious age. To me this indicates him traveling to the past and procuring it in order to create a specific presentation for the coin. In all likelihood he visited someplace off the beaten path, such as Appalachia, based especially on the pine and jasmine. Not everyone in the nineteenth century could afford charcoal pencils, and I have heard of using charcoal pieces to write, although rarely in a message form such as this.”
    “Okay... I guess I can buy that,” I said. “But why would Kaslow go to the trouble to do it? It seems too concocted for his brutal nature.”
    “Maybe because the act of doing so is also part of the message.”
    “Maybe,” I agreed, not enjoying this process of trying to steal a peek inside a demonic man’s mind.
    “Here’s the thing that bothers me most,” said Roderick, eyeing me seriously. “What’s the first definition that comes to mind for ‘tit-for-tat’?”
    “Payback.” That’s all this phrase has ever meant for me.
    “Precisely... and it’s always used in reference to repayment for a deed done in the past. To right an injury that has happened.”
    “What in the hell have we done to him, Rod?” I started to feel indignant. “Seriously, man—if anything, we should be the enforcer of some ‘tit-for-tat’ bullshit against Kaslow. Not him against us!”
    He studied me in the way I have always loathed the most in heated discussions: with compassion. As if he could clearly see my soul at its most naked and vulnerable state, along with my inherent weaknesses as a human being. 
    “As I stated earlier, Judas, what Kaslow means by his message will be revealed in time—as is always the case with him,” said Roderick. “But I firmly believe we shouldn’t dilly-dally here needlessly. Getting our ladies to leave early and willingly will be a challenge... and maybe we’ll be fine by leaving first thing Sunday. However, what comes to me right now is ‘don’t linger beyond what is prudent’. It’s the strongest impression upon my heart and soul, my brother.”
    He didn’t need to say anything else for me to get the point. In fact, afterward our entire conversation repeated on a loop in my head, growing stronger for me once I returned to my room and I watched my beloved wife sleep with hollow breaths that made me wonder if on a subconscious level Beatrice felt the same thing as Roderick. If so, I prayed she would be receptive to his and my urging to leave this place and head home... immediately.
    * * * * *
    G etting Beatrice and Amy to leave earlier than our Monday scheduled departure proved much more difficult than I anticipated, as both Saturday and Sunday were filled with ‘fun’ places in the area that they were