The Killing League

36.

The Messiah

The Messiah felt a sense of liberation, traveling without his entourage. There was some annoyance, certainly, he had to do everything himself. But there was a small amount of freedom that he actually relished. He realized he would grow tired of it quickly, but for once the solitude felt good. No eyes watching his every move. All of the great men of the past sought refuge from their followers occasionally.

He would use this experience to learn new tools and techniques that would allow him to rule his following with more clarity and power.

And he would recruit, naturally. He never stopped recruiting. Gathering new individuals to his fold was something he’d always achieved quite easily. Ever since he was a strange little kid with blazing blue eyes, he could coerce, pressure, lure or con just about anyone he wanted into following him. For him, it was as easy as an expert violinist plucking out notes to a simple song.

The woman behind the counter at the hotel right now, for instance. He looked at her, and he could read her path. He could see the hurt and resentment. The small fire of a rebellion toward authority, and a very deep sense of unworthiness. She didn’t like herself much, or think she was very attractive.

The Messiah understood this intuitively. None of these were conscious thoughts.

But he knew in the well of his soul that he could have this young woman in his hotel room tonight, obeying his every command, if he so wished.

It was not his desire at the moment, so he let it be, secure in the knowledge that should he change his mind she was here for his taking.

“The KL Conference,” he said, his voice soft but firm. The moment he spoke, he could tell she recognized the innate power in his voice.

“Yes, sir,” she said, glancing down at a cheap ledger on her desktop. “That would be the Conference Room B — second door on the left, down that hall.” She gave him a winning smile that made him want to dress her down, and expose her innermost secrets. Hear her beg him to make her whole again.

“Thank you,” he said.

He walked down the hallway to the KL placard, and entered the room. The Messiah paused and took in the room, the seating area, the two individuals already sitting, and the security guard near the door.

The Messiah instantly felt in command. He would love to meet the individual responsible for this intrusion into his life, and would enjoy bending the man’s will to his own.

He ignored the two people — the weak man in the expensive suit, and the old, sad woman at the end of the row of chairs.

The Messiah took his rightful spot in the center seat, without acknowledging the other two.

He would wait.

And when he wished, he would take control.