by Lincoln Cole
“If something like that had happened, she should have reported it to the Church.”
Arthur stared at him. “She did. Multiple times. Why do you think she has so much fear of you?”
The words hit like a sucker punch to Niccolo’s gut. He sat in an armchair, staring at the fireplace and trying to absorb what Arthur had said.
“To her, you are just another priest here to abuse her.”
The idea that the bishop could do something like this—like this—to someone ...
Niccolo took a deep and steadying breath. The thing was, honestly, it didn’t seem that hard to believe once the initial shock went away. It came down to more just a fact of seeing firsthand the terror of what the bishop could do to an innocent person. Niccolo had known he was an evil man, and this just brought another atrocity to add to the list.
But the idea that Desiree had gone to the Church for help, and they’d let her down like this ...
“You brought her here because of me,” Niccolo said, suddenly, an insidious thought worming its way into his mind. “You wanted me to see her, and you wanted her to see me.”
“Yes.”
“You won’t even try to deny it? You wanted to manipulate me. You planned to turn me against the Church.”
“Never,” Arthur said. “I wanted to open your eyes to the world around you.”
“You think I don’t know about evil? I went to Everett, too.”
“I think facing an evil demon and facing an evil person are two entirely separate things. One is evil because of its nature, but the other chooses to be that way. I needed to make sure you were up to the challenge of facing the bishop.”
“And what is your assessment?” Niccolo asked bitterly.
Arthur studied him for a moment. “That yet remains to be seen. However, that wasn’t the only reason I brought her here. I truly do think she might have valuable information we can use to find Leopold.”
“What information? She’s a victim.”
“It’s a long shot, but she provides the only lead we have.”
“And, has she turned up anything?”
“Not yet.”
“Then, let her go.”
“I can’t.”
Niccolo had never felt so furious and confused in his entire life. “You told me that if I helped you, we wouldn’t hurt people. That you wouldn’t hurt people. You swore to me that you had changed.”
“I swore to you that I would change. And I have. I haven’t harmed her, and I won’t harm her. I haven’t even scared her,” Arthur said. “And I don’t intend to. You have my word that as soon as we deal with the bishop, and have him safely in the Vatican’s custody, I will return her to her home.”
“Then, why not now?”
“She won’t be safe.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that when I kidnapped her, I didn’t know if she had information against the bishop, and I doubt he does either. He probably thinks she’s a liability.”
“So?”
“We exposed the bishop and sent him on the run in Everett, and now he knows about us searching for him. If Desiree knows something about him that could help us catch him, then what’s the first thing he would do to her when she got home?”
Niccolo’s eyes widened. “He would kill her?”
“Bingo, and if only to tie up loose ends,” Arthur said. “I didn’t have a choice. If I hadn’t kidnapped her, the bishop might have killed her when he realized the letters remained in his manor. If we let her leave now, he most certainly will, if only to punish her for speaking with us.”
Niccolo felt backed into a corner. On the one hand, what Arthur had done infuriated him, and he believed with all his heart that it was a wrong and horrible thing to do ...
But, on the other hand, it made sense, if only from Arthur’s perspective. Arthur had certainly taken a lot of liberties in his assessment, but it remained possible he had it right.
The thing was, it also terrified him to think of things from Arthur’s perspective. Niccolo hadn’t yet grown used to thinking so poorly of people, and for certain, he didn’t enjoy trying to imagine the things someone like the bishop might do to keep them from finding him.
It gave yet another reminder that this wasn’t his world.
As much as he hated it, Niccolo could do nothing about this situation. Still, he didn’t think Arthur had it right, and he felt the man had got it wrong when he kidnapped her to begin with, but what was done was done. He stood and walked back toward the basement.
“Where are you going?” Arthur stood and moved to follow. Niccolo held up a hand to stop him.
“I’m going to talk to her alone. You kidnapped her, so we might as well make the best of the situation we find ourselves in.”
“I told you. I questioned her already. She doesn’t know anything.”
“I have no intention of questioning her about anything.”
“Then, what? Why do you want to talk to her?”
Niccolo stopped at the basement door and looked back at Arthur. “You said that she came to the Church for help on multiple occasions and that we turned her away.”
Arthur hesitated, and then nodded. “Yes. That’s what she told me.”
“Then I’ll go and apologize to her and beg for forgiveness.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Arthur said. “You didn’t even know her or her situation.”
“I’m a servant of God,” Niccolo said. “And a servant of the Church. It was my duty to protect her, and my duty to know.”
AS HE CAME DOWN THE stairs, Niccolo heard the woman sobbing. He didn’t know what he would say to her, but he had to say something. Or, at the very least, he had to listen.
He strode across the dim room and stopped next to her cell. His hands shook, and in many ways, this felt worse than when he’d gone into the home of Rose Gallagher to face the demon. Desiree didn’t look up at him, just kept sobbing, and the sound of her cries broke his heart.
He refused to be the first to speak, allowing the silence to drag on. Instead, he simply stood there, waiting. Maybe she didn’t even know he stood there; a long few minutes passed before she spoke. “Why ... why are you doing this?”
“Arthur ... we just want to keep you safe.”
She chuckled sardonically, glancing up at him from the cot. “Safe? Since when does anyone care if I’m safe?”
Niccolo didn’t have a good answer. “I care,” he said. “I feel impossibly sorry for what has happened to you.”
“You? Sorry? It’s a little late for that.”
“I know. The Church failed you, and as a representative of the Church, I want to offer you my deepest condolences and apology.”
She didn’t respond, just looked back at the floor. Then she said, “Thanks.”
“I know it doesn’t mean much, but—”
“I said thanks. And I’m sorry about earlier. I just ... it’s been a long day.”
“Tell me about it,” Niccolo said. “I’ve spent all day driving.”
“Your accent—are you Italian?”
“I am. Born in Rome and lived much of my life in the Vatican.”
She nodded. “I never made it to Italy. Always wanted to go, just never worked out.”
He didn’t know how to respond to that without useless platitudes. They stood in awkward silence for a minute. Finally, Niccolo changed the subject.
“Arthur said he spoke to you about the bishop?”
“He did. He is quite direct.”
“Did he behave cruelly to you?”
She shook her head. “No. But, as I told him, I don’t know the bishop’s whereabouts. I don’t know anything. I haven’t spoken to Leopold in months. I thought maybe I had broken free of him and that, maybe, he had finally let me go when this happened.”
“Do you still have the letters he sent?” Niccolo asked. “We only saw your letters, not the ones he sent to you.”
“I destroyed them,” the woman said. “He made me swear I
would get rid of them. Occasionally, he would send his goons to check. It all just meant a game to him. I gave him something just to pass the time.”
“I’m sorry.”
She chuckled. “What good is your sorry to me now? What the hell do you care? I’ve spoken to many priests. They fall into two groups: one wants to tell me sorry, and the other wants me to tell him sorry. All they ever cared about was making sure I didn’t speak to the press.”
“I am sorry. I truly am. If I had known ...”
She waved her hand, cutting him off. “If you had known, you would have done nothing. No one ever does anything, and that’s just how it is. It’ll stay like this forever, and nothing will ever change.”
“There are good people out there.”
“Good priests, you mean? Of course, there are. But also bad ones. You can tell yourself that they cancel each other out, but when all I’ve ever seen are the bad ones ... you might be a good guy, but forgive me for not wanting to find out. Please, just leave me alone.”
Niccolo frowned deeply. He wanted to fix this problem, to solve it, but realized just how deep it went. Bishop Glasser had ruined this woman’s entire life. No words or gestures would solve that.
Not unless he could give Desiree back her life.
“I’ll return,” he said, finally. “To speak with you. If that is all right with you.”
She waved her hand. “I don’t know anything.”
“Not for that. Just to speak with you.”
“Not like I have a choice.”
“Yes,” he said. “You do. If you would prefer that I never return, then you will not see me again. But, I would like to, if that’s okay?”
She hesitated, and then shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
“Do you feel hungry?”
“A bit,” she said. “Your friend has only given me disgusting food, though.”
Niccolo half-smiled. “I feel certain that’s all he has. Would you like anything in particular?”
She hesitated, and then said, “Chicken? Real stuff, not from a can.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
He turned to leave and sensed the woman come up to the bars behind him. She reached through and grabbed his shirt, though she did it gently. He turned to face her.
“Please, I know he’s your friend, but I just want to go home.”
Niccolo promised, “You will. I swear to you that we will stop the bishop, and then we will get you safely back home. You have my word.”
Then he turned and hurried back up the stairs before the woman could say anything else. He felt horrible, leaving her trapped in a cell like this, and realized that he ran away from himself as much as from her.
Two weeks ago, before he went to the town of Everett, Washington, he would have called the police immediately if he saw a situation like this. At the least, he would have let Desiree loose and helped her escape from the cabin. It seemed like something from a horror movie, and he would have reported Arthur to the proper authorities to get dealt with.
But, in the last two weeks, his entire world had flipped on its head. Arthur remained a dangerous and rash person, and at one point, Niccolo had believed him to be evil as well.
Not anymore, though.
Now, he knew true evil.
Problematically, he had also learned that a lot of gray areas existed in the world. More than he had imagined. He had thought that he would help Arthur in bringing down the bishop without compromising any of his convictions.
Arthur had brought Desiree out here to disabuse him of that notion, and had done it on the first night. If that spoke about how the rest of their partnership would go, then Niccolo had to admit to more than a small reservation.
“We will return her home safely,” Niccolo said to Arthur as he bolted the basement door once more. “As soon as this has finished, we will get her home.”
“Of course we will,” Arthur said. “I’ll drop her off back in her bed as though nothing ever happened, and she will never have to hear from the bishop or us ever again. She can go on with her life.”
“What life?” Niccolo shook his head. “I ... I can’t believe what she’s endured already.”
“In my experience, the people who endure the worst things in life also endure the most. It isn’t fair, but it is what it is.”
“Her family must know she’s missing.”
“She has little. I planted some clues, and they think she went out for a few weeks’ vacation and don’t expect her back anytime soon. We’ve got eight more days before they’ll start to worry or contact the police.”
Niccolo shook his head. He felt shocked, and a little scared, at how methodical Arthur was about all of it.
“I can’t believe you could do something like this.”
“Can’t you?” Arthur asked. He walked back into the kitchen. “I feel pretty sure that this is tame compared to what you can imagine me doing. Or what I’ve done. You, more than most, know my capabilities.”
He spoke the last slowly, the words barely audible, and Niccolo could see regret in his eyes. What he said was true: Arthur held responsibility for killing more than twenty people in West Virginia not even a year earlier. The worst part was that it didn’t even scratch the top of whatever else Arthur had done.
They were all cultists working for a dangerous and psychotic organization known as The Ninth Circle that kidnapped and murdered at will, but that didn’t change what Arthur had done.
Niccolo had helped the Church to hide what had happened from the rest of the world. They buried the bodies, cleaned up the old manor, and quieted news outlets and media.
All in the name of the greater good.
He had hated Arthur ever since it had happened, but that came before the Church had called him out for the fateful events in Everett. Even after everything that had happened, though, he still wouldn’t have worked with Arthur except he felt that Arthur harbored remorse for what he had done and wanted to change.
Or, at least, he pretended to change, and he made an excellent actor.
“It is still wrong,” Niccolo said. “Perhaps I made a mistake in coming here. If this is how you plan to do things ...”
Arthur held up a hand, silencing him. “That is how we plan to do things,” he said. “A line in the sand lays between all the decent people out there in the real world and the people like me. If you’re to help me bring down the bishop, then you will cross that line. Once you do, there’s no going back. And bringing Desiree here is tame compared to what we might be forced to do in this hunt, and I need to know that you won’t get in my way. Are you an asset or a liability? Can you handle this?”
“Handle what? You talked about a line in the sand, but I see one line I will not cross.”
“What line?”
“I won’t help you kill people.”
“I have no intention of murdering anyone,” Arthur said. “Not ever again. That Arthur has gone. But we might need to do terrible things if we’re to stop Leopold, and this only makes the first. If you don’t feel okay with that, then you should get back in your car and head on down the road.”
Niccolo stood there for a long moment, trying to reconcile the good that he would do by helping bring down the bishop with the bad of which Arthur asked him to become a part. A fragment of him felt furious with Arthur, knowing that the woman in the basement was only a distraction and test for him.
The rest of him, though, knew that Arthur had it right about everything. Arthur asked him to cross a line and join him in the gray areas of the world. Truthfully, he had crossed that line the moment he entered the home of Rose Gallagher back in Everett and exorcised the demon possessing her. He had crossed over into another world, a darker world, and nothing in his life would ever be the same.
“Doing this,” he said slowly. “Hunting down the bishop ... it doesn’t mean we have to compromise who we are. I won’t just do anything without a good reason.”
“No,” Arthur said. “But if you’re unwilling or una
ble to do the necessary, then you will get us both killed. I need to know that I can trust you out there when it counts.”
Niccolo took a deep breath and nodded. “Very well. I’m committed to doing this.”
“Are you? I want you to take some time and ask yourself that question seriously, because you cannot come half-committed to something like this. You are either all in, or you are all out—straddling the line isn’t a good place to be.”
Niccolo opened his mouth, but Arthur raised his hand again to cut him off.
“I’m serious. Think on it. It’s late, and we’ve both grown exhausted. Give it some thought and bring me your decision tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
“If I don’t see you when I get up, then I’ll know what you decided and will hold no hard feelings. However, if you do decide to stick around and help me bring down the bishop, then don’t ever again question me about things like this.”
Then, before Niccolo could respond, Arthur turned and headed out the back door of the cabin and into the cold night air. Niccolo stood there, watching him disappear, lost in his thoughts.
Not for the first time, he wondered just what the hell he had gotten himself into.
Chapter 3
Niccolo didn’t leave.
It pleased Arthur quite a bit when he awoke the next morning and found Niccolo sitting in the living room. More than he would like to admit, in fact. Though confident that he could catch and deal with the bishop one way or another, having someone around brought a nice benefit.
In particular, having Niccolo around. Arthur had worried that Niccolo would leave in the middle of the night. It wouldn’t have surprised him, and to be honest, it might have turned out for the best. His next steps in hunting down the bishop would bring danger, and it certainly fell outside of Niccolo’s world. Usually, Arthur worked alone, yet he had to admit that, sometimes, it felt nice to have help.
But, it came down to more than that. Niccolo Paladina, a few years older than Arthur, brought a calm maturity about the world in ways that made him seem a lot older. He had become, in many ways, Arthur’s newfound conscience—his voice of reason—in the new life Arthur tried to create for himself.