Two more paintings appeared on the screen. One was of their mysterious guy sitting in a fancy upholstered chair with a shotgun in one arm, his free hand resting on the head of a hunting dog. The other showed the man in another military uniform, this time from World War I. The man’s face hadn’t changed a bit, even though nearly a hundred and fifty years had passed.
Photos took the place of oil paintings for the next few images. There was a black-and-white picture of the man in an officer’s uniform on the deck of a large warship, and then another black-and-white of him leaning against a wall in front of a castle. The last one, in full color, showed him dressed in a suit, sitting in a boardroom.
“I couldn’t find any other images after the one in the suit,” Davina said, reappearing on the screen. “I’m assuming that with the advent of computers, he realized it would be too easy to catch on to him. Since the mid-eighties, he’s gone to much greater lengths to hide his existence.”
“Okay, you’ve definitely got our attention,” Karissa said. “Who the heck is this guy?”
“His name is Thomas Bagley and he was born in England in 1750, which means he’s over two hundred and seventy years old,” Davina told them. “He’s been around that long because he’s the living embodiment of the Greek god Deimos, much in the same way you’re the embodiment of Athena.”
“Deimos?” Hale repeated, glancing at Karissa as he dug through the few remaining memories from his high school Western Civilization class. “I’ve never heard of him.”
“Deimos was the son of Ares and Aphrodite,” Davina said. “He was the god of dread and terror. In fact, his name literally meansdread. He frequently fought beside his father in battle, where he wouldcripple the enemy with the feelings of dread that emanate from him.”
“That’s exactly what I experienced when I was fighting him,” Karissa admitted softly. “I felt terrified merely being in the same room with him.”
Davina nodded. “Being the son of Ares meant that Deimos was extremely gifted in all forms of combat with nearly any weapon. There was also some kind of connection to Hades, which is where Deimos got the ability to move with those shadows that you described to Hale. Essentially, he’s moving through the Underworld when he does that. Regardless, all of those abilities now reside in Bagley, and he’s been honing them for a very long time.”
Hale considered all those paintings and photos of Bagley in military uniforms. The man could do a lot of honing over two centuries of war and fighting.
“Okay, so this Thomas Bagley/Deimos guy is all stabby-killy. I get that part,” Karissa said. “But what I don’t understand is how he’s been able to live so long. Nicos, the Greek priest who did such a bang-up job of informing me of my Paladin responsibilities, went out of his way to let me know that I won’t live any longer than a normal human. So why has this guy been alive for almost three hundred years and I’m simply normal old me?”
Hale couldn’t imagine living that long. Thethought of outliving everyone you loved and cared about was awful to think about.
“I’m surprised this mentor of yours never told you any of this,” Davina said with a disappointed expression. “I mean, Greek and Roman avatars are fairly common, so this kind of information is readily available to anyone who studies the supernatural community. But regardless, the differences in an avatar’s lifespan basically comes down to what’s being asked of you. In this case, what Athena is asking of you versus what Deimos expects from Bagley.”
“I’m not sure what any of that means,” Karissa said.
“Athena’s gifts are given to those who are both unselfish and courageous, and all that’s asked in return is that you use them to protect those in danger. In this exchange, you remain the same person you have always been but with supernatural abilities.”
“And Bagley?” Hale prompted, wondering where Davina was going with this. “What makes his exchange so different that the spirit of Deimos granted him such a long life?”
“Deimos is drawn to those who possess a violent and cruel nature,” Davina said, her smile disappearing completely. “Those who glory in war and pain, and want power and control over others and are willing to do anything to get it.”
“So Thomas Bagley was basically a prick beforehe ran into Deimos,” Hale said. “But I still don’t see what he’s sacrificing.”
“To put it bluntly, Bagley is sacrificing his free will,” Davina said. “Those who accept Deimos’s gifts allow the majority of their personality and soul to be subsumed by his spirit. Bagley gets the power, money, the thrill of killing, and the extra-long life, but in return, he’s essentially shoved in the back seat for the most part. He’s a passenger in his own life.”
“Seems like a crap deal if you ask me,” Karissa muttered. “So this move against Patterson is only for money then?”
“Deimos—and now Bagley—glories in violence, pain, conquest, and control.” Davina shrugged. “What better way to do that than to track someone down and kill them while getting paid for it? For someone like Thomas Bagley, it would be the ultimate expression of total conquest.”
“Okay, that’s sick and demented,” Karissa said. “What I don’t understand is why Patterson isn’t dead already. I mean, my ego would like it if it were me keeping Bagley away, but after my first real run-in with the guy, I can admit he’s probably not that worried about me. Truthfully, with that Underworld teleportation trick, he could have popped in whenever Patterson was alone whenever he wanted and off him in a flash.”
“And what fun would that be for the god ofdread?” Davina countered with a frown. “I swear, this Nicos guy should be sued for mentoring malpractice. This is Bad Guy 101 stuff. Looking into his past, it wasn’t hard to figure out that Bagley tends to play with his victims, pushing them to the edge of insanity before he finishes them. There’s some indication he’s paid extra for the suffering he puts his victims through.”
“Okay, now that’s even more sick and demented,” Hale said. “I don’t suppose you have intel on who hired him for this particular job?”
“I’m afraid not,” Davina said with a look of disappointment. “STAT is working on it, but apparently the list of people who would want Patterson gone is rather long. But on the bright side—if you could call it that—there’s a good chance Bagley might have put your client on the back burner for the time being.”
Karissa exchanged surprised looks with Hale before turning her attention back to Davina. “He’s going after someone else instead?”
“Yes,” Davina said solemnly. “You.”
Beside him, Karissa froze, her face going pale. “What do you mean?”
Davina sighed. “The stories say that a long time ago, Athena got into some kind of fight with Ares and kicked his ass. Apparently, it must have been a monumental mud-hole stomping because Ares never got over it. Anyway, it resulted in the Greekgod equivalent of a blood feud. Ares handed that feud—and hatred—down to his son, and now Deimos continues the fight by tracking down and killing Athena’s Paladins. I was able to confirm that this current embodiment of Deimos has fought and murdered five Paladins in his life. It seems to bring him an incredible amount of pleasure to kill them. Now that he’s identified you as a Paladin, I can’t imagine him doing anything but going after you.”
Hale clenched his free hand so tightly that his knuckles cracked. It was only when Karissa squeezed his other hand that he relaxed a little. But as his fist unclenched, he couldn’t miss the four spots of blood in the middle of his palm—or the flash of his extended claws.
