She started her truck and headed toward the church. The late service would have just ended and she imagined Father George took time to chat with stragglers before he shut things down.
As she drove her mind drifted to Sebastian. She wondered again how she could have missed that about him, and if she really had any instincts for people at all. Not that he was a person. Not in any sense of the word. A shiver ran over her as she thought about the last night they spent together. The way he felt when they stood in his kitchen. She could almost smell his scent, and feel his pull.
“Way to torture yourself, Gwen,” she muttered to herself. Maybe she fell for her own familiar. Maybe she started to fall for a retired wolf familiar, but she would never fall for him now that she knew he was the undead.
How could Lizzy know and let him in her home? Around her daughter? Her pregnant daughter? He blessed her room. How can a cursed creature bless anything? What did it mean that she found comfort in the arms of such a creature? Maybe she should have the Father pray for her soul. Should she get him to bless her? Give her a cross? Some holy water? Would she need garlic? She didn't sense him following her, and deep down she didn't think he would hurt her, not physically.
Chapter Fifteen
G wen listened to the sound of crunching snow under her feet as she walked across the parking lot at the church. She liked the natural sound, much the way she liked to walk in leaves in the winter down south.
She thought the church looked big for such a small town, especially since she saw several more. By her math, the town had one church for every ten people.
The lights glowed warmly through the stained-glass windows of the brick building. She noticed one of the doors sat slightly ajar as she made her way up the four steps. Her hands held the rail in case there was any ice on the steps.
She pulled the door shut behind her and walked deeper into the warmth of the room. The size of the room with its high ceiling and tall windows running down both sides made her feel minute. She walked between the two aisles of pews on either side, noticing a random hymn book or bible laying out.
The soft carpet made her steps silent. As she neared the front she saw the confessional and looked closely at the details of statues at the front of the room.
“Can I help you?” a man said, startling her.
She turned, expecting to see Father George, but instead saw a disheveled man with a rag in his hand. She took a step back and tried for a smile as she looked at him.
The tall, lanky man looked unfed and smelled unbathed. His dark blonde hair pointed in a hundred directions as if he just rolled out of bed. He watched her with tired looking brown eyes and gave her a gaped smile filled with crooked teeth that leaned into the gaps.
“I'm here to see Father George.” She tried not to make any sudden moves as her mind went back to the way she found the door cracked open. She turned to plan her easiest escape when she saw Father George walking up.
“Gwen, child, how are you?” the Father said.
She felt herself washed with relief at feeling that he didn't seem to think the dirty man posed any danger. “I'm good, thank you.”
“Finish up Jim,” the Father said.
The man walked away, carelessly wiping his rag on random surfaces and putting away bibles.
Gwen felt a little flush of embarrassment at how quickly she judged the man to be some sort of robber, or worse. Maybe she didn't have the nerves to think about murderers as Curtis suggested.
“Did you need to confess, or pray?” he asked.
“Oh no, nothing like that. I was hoping we might talk. Or set a time to talk later if you are busy.”
“I'm never too busy to talk. I missed seeing you in service,” he said.
She looked down and back up. “I'm sorry. I…”
He laughed. “Don't you go making excuses, God knows your heart. What burdens your mind?”
They walked together to an office. He left the door opened and offered her a seat.
She sat down and he asked her again to tell him about her troubles.
“My family. I mean Lizzy and William, they volunteered here?”
“Yes, they both did. Kind souls.” He watched her more closely.
“What did William do?”
“Are you feeling alone? Did you want to pray for comfort?”
She shook her head. “I'm just trying to piece things together, I talked with… Well I mean to say, I went to see Lenny, to try and find some peace and he mentioned here, the shelter.”
The Father frowned and leaned forward. “I've been to see him as well. Many times. His heart is heavy with guilt.”
“Did you know that he knew William? Before he, the, accident, shooting?”
He nodded. “Yes, very well. It shocked us, especially us at the shelter. William had sort of taken a shine to helping Lenny.”
“Helping him how? Why?”
“Lenny had drug problems as you might imagine from what you have heard I am sure. Many of the men at the shelter did. We only kept about five men at any time. It was just beds in the basement really. It's a soup kitchen now. After William, the city decided not to allow anyone to stay here like that. I didn't fight it. Lizzy was beside herself with grief and I thought it best as well.”
She rubbed her hands together. “What did William do with Lenny?”
“Some nights he would fetch him for dinner at Mel's, even take him in the patrol car too. We thought he had cleaned up.”
“So, that night, it was a relapse?”
“From what I gather. I leave those dealings to lawyers and the like. I only worry for his soul.”
“Why do you think William picked him to focus on like that?”
“Oh, that was easy to figure out. They were both orphans. From the same orphanage in fact. I shouldn't say much though. Lizzy and William kept that closely guarded.”
Gwen sat back in her chair. “Do you imagine that might be why Lizzy didn't want Mike asking family questions?”
He shook his head. “I wouldn't know anything about that. I did hear Mike is being charged.”
She pursed her lips together. “Do you know the orphanage?”
“Sure, sure, let me write that down. Of course, you know now it is just a church. They don't take children anymore, too many regulations.” He wrote down a name and shuffled a few things, finding an old-style Rolodex under a stack of papers, and then he scribbled down a number for her. “It's a fair way off, take you the better part of the day as it is east of Wichita.”
Gwen didn't know the area or how long it would take to get there. She knew she would find out. “Is there anyone else who was at the shelter that is still in town?”
“No, most moved to other shelters in the bigger cities.”
“What about volunteers?”
“I think every able-bodied soul in town helped in any way they could.”
Gwen nodded. “Of course, was there anyone else involved like William?”
“All William's men did maintenance things around here.”
They talked a little more. Before she left, she wondered again if she needed a blessed something, but pushed aside her fears of Sebastian. She knew her fears about him revolved around how much she wanted to run back to his arms.
On the way home she puzzled over the new information. William grew up an orphan, like she did after Winnie died. It made her clingier to people she considered friends. Did it make him vulnerable to Lenny who used him to get on his feet again? That made it seem even more tragic. Could Lenny have stumbled into it? Wrong time, wrong place? Could the person who did kill him know about them being together and use it as a cover? Would the orphanage hold anything useful? She sucked a breath in when she thought about the family who left him there.
She could have family after all.
When she got home she couldn't decide what she wanted to do first. Call the church, or pack.
“Where are you going?” Lewis watched her throw things haphazardly in a suitcase.
She explained to him about her visit at the prison and her talk with the Father.
“I still don't see how this will help anything.” As soon as he said it, he realized if she chased down leads on that side of the family, she wouldn't have time to chase down answers to Lizzy's past and Fannie.
“I need to do this. I could have family left. Maybe William had brothers or sisters.”
“I will go with you. Whatever you need.”
She stopped what she was doing and looked at him with serious eyes. “Can I make people do things?”
“No, even if you could, no.”
“Can you? I mean if they won't give me the information I need, is there anything we can do?” She narrowed her eyes at him.
“Not like that, no. We don't play games with people's freewill, ever. We can be sneaky, distract them, raid files, and break laws, but we will not play with their minds.”
She agreed. She did not want to sacrifice their morals. She kept packing, entered the address in her GPS, and they headed out. As they passed the drive to Sebastian's house Lewis sensed her tense up and saw her face reflect the sadness she felt.
“Did you want to talk about him?” Lewis asked, still not one-hundred percent sure how he felt about that. While he enjoyed not having him around, he didn't like to see her upset. He also didn't like that it complicated the help Sebastian offered them both.
She looked at the road ahead. “Maybe, it's a long drive, but I don't know what there is to be said. He kills people.”
“Yes, maybe he found another way. He doesn't suffer the monstrous curse the way other vampires do.”
“He said he fed, Lewis, that means he kills people. I'm not sure how a pretty face and warm blood would make that any better.”
Lewis drew in a breath and exhaled loudly. Sebastian needed to have some good answers for her, or he didn't see a path back to even a superficial friendship.
The road flew by and minutes morphed into hours. When they neared the area, he talked her into getting a few hours of rest, even though the drive already took the better part of the night. They rented a room at the first place that didn't look like they would get mugged.
As soon as they walked inside, she started the heater and lay down. “Do you think he killed his last witch? Drank her blood?”
Lewis stroked her hair. “I wouldn't know. I know she died. I know what he is. But I also know whatever happened haunts him, so it could well be the case. You would have to ask him.”
“I'll pass.” She knew her words held no truth. She needed to know. Did he kill his own witch? Could the dark sadness that she felt in him be guilt or remorse? Did soulless monsters like Sebastian feel? With her eyes closed, she pondered how she felt about the monster who she could smell if she thought about it, and who she longed to feel close again.
Lewis went outside and perched where he could watch the door. He thought about how things ended up, glad she latched onto finding out if William had any family. It would more than likely occupy a good deal of time and energy. He needed time. He considered if he could do it without Sebastian. If not, he would have to help her see another side of the beast, a side he couldn't see himself.
There was something between Gwen and Sebastian, something he felt every time they shared the same space. Did he really want to watch that unfold? No. He knew he didn't. Gwen loved as fiercely as a familiar did. If Sebastian ever did win her love, he knew it would be forever. Forever and heartbreaking to witness. She deserved that kind of love, but not from a monster.
Inside the room, Gwen slept deeply.
G wen stretched out on the lounger in a clingy red dress with a deep v-neckline. The fire raged behind Sebastian as he painted her. She watched his hand make quick flashes across the canvas.
Desire rose everywhere he caressed her with the intensity of his gaze.
She laid her head back and moaned softly, enjoying the sensations he sent out. She felt him getting closer. His heat and his scent filled her space. She opened her eyes to see him stood just beside her. His look passed desire as it filled with need.
She reached out, touched his fingers and sent a wave of pleasure racing from his fingers across his body. He growled. The low animal sound sent a quake of need racing across her.
He knelt on the lounger over her and nuzzled her ear, breathing in the scent of roses from her hair. The feeling of his breaths on her neck sent her need to touch and taste him to a level she could not deny.
Her hands ran through his hair and tugged at him as she pulled his face to meet hers. His lips hovered inches from her lips. She swallowed, her mouth hot and dry from desire. She heard herself make a slight moan, and the word please escaped her lips. She needed to feel his lips on hers, wanted it more than she ever wanted anything.
When his lips pressed to hers, they parted slightly. He nibbled gently and explored with the tip of his tongue. His hand slid up the side of her neck. It rested gently behind her head as he pulled her into a deep kiss that reached her soul.
When he pulled back, she stared breathlessly into his eyes. The desire mingled with a questioning look. A question. He asked her something. She focused on his voice and watched his mouth.
“Can you love me?” he asked. His smile showed fangs. His eyes turned from blue to black.
Her desire left. The room suddenly felt cold. His hands felt cold and heavy, dead. His black empty eyes looked at her with a different kind of hunger.
“Love me,” the monster demanded.
She backed off the lounger and scrambled to her feet. “No, no, Sebastian.”
Blood pooled from his mouth, dripping onto his white shirt, soaking it a deep burgundy.
She screamed.
L ewis walked in, having sensed her distress from outside.
Sweat covered her and her head tossed from side to side. She muttered, 'no, Sebastian, no.'
He frowned and woke her by gently rubbing her face.
She sat up, leaned into his arms, and cried.
Chapter Sixteen
G wen had no real idea what to expect as she walked up the narrow cement sidewalk to what looked more like an office building rather than a church. The whole place looked very institutional. Several buildings ran off the back of the main one in the other direction. She didn't see remnants of playgrounds or anything that looked even remotely inviting. It reminded her more of a school than a religious center.
Lewis walked beside her. His eyes searched the grounds while he took in the complex as well. It also seemed sterile to him, but he based that on the vibrations of the place, rather than the superficial appearance. An efficient coldness emanated from the ground itself.
Gwen called just before they left the hotel and arranged to meet with one of the sisters in ten minutes to talk about the old orphanage records. When she explained her research of her family related to a personal tragedy, the woman quickly agreed to help. While she didn't like playing the sympathy card, she would do it to get the information.
One of the two doors at the front hung opened. Gwen stepped inside and said hello loudly in effort not to startle anyone. A clean lemon scent hung in the air. The room looked like a normal reception area with two desks.
A plain but pretty, middle-aged woman who sat at the closest desk looked up and smiled at them.
“Gwen?” she asked. When Gwen nodded, she added, “I'm sister Jane, we spoke on the phone.”
“Thank you so much for seeing me.” Gwen shook the hand the woman offered when she stood, and introduced Lewis.
They followed her down a long white hall, which had blank walls except for a single simple wooden cross. The white laminate tile floors added to the sterile impression Gwen felt when they walked up.
When they entered in another room, the woman flipped on the lights.
Gwen looked around to see several filing cabinets along one wall, and a simple table with a chair on the other.
“I went by the age you gave me for your grandfather, and looked in a fifteen-year time f
rame. We had a lot of boys. I narrowed it down to those of Caucasian descent. I would have narrowed it down more but I didn't have time.” The sister pulled out the chair, and put her hand on a stack of folders. “You are welcome to browse and take notes, but I must ask that all the originals stay here.” Her words and face both held a sweet but firm demeanor.
Gwen thanked her, and the sister left her and Lewis alone in the room with the door opened, to start sorting the pile, looking for clues. A lot of the files named the adoptive parents but none listed Hensley. Gwen set those aside.
Lewis wrote down the names in case everything else ended up a dead end.
She realized Hensley could be just a name William took later on.
“How many are you down to now?” Lewis asked. He gently rubbed her shoulders as he sensed her get a little frustrated.
“I've narrowed it to six that look good. Three stayed in the Kansas area, which may or may not mean anything. Since I can't find anything anywhere about the Hensley name I may really need to look at them all. I don't know,” she said and sighed.
“I've written them all down. Why don't you take pictures of them with your phone and we can look at each one in more detail at home.” Lewis knew the longer she dug into who adopted William, the longer she would stay away from tracking things from Lizzy to Fannie.
She agreed and they took pictures of potentially helpful pages from each file. Most of the files didn't have a whole lot, with the exception of a set of brothers who came to the orphanage after a bloody tragedy.
“Lewis, look at this.” She reached out and handed him the newspaper clipping on two young boys.
They stood with a police officer, covered in blood. The headline read, 'tragedy in suburbia' with the byline 'two local boys escape father's rampage by hiding under their dead mother for hours.'
Lewis frowned and handed it back to her.
She looked at it a moment longer before taking a picture.
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