I nodded woodenly, still shell-shocked from Samael’s appearance. “I didn’t know he could do that,” I said. “Why didn’t he attack?”
Cain grunted, wiping some of the blood from his cheeks and wrist, and a few more shards of glass from his collar. He just had scrapes, and they were already healing. Figured. Immortals.
“He said he wanted to help me,” I told Cain. “That he could get to me through this.” I held up my thumb, showing him the ring of shadows.
Cain stared down at it uneasily. “Sometimes Demons lie…”
“And sometimes they don’t…” I replied.
And I couldn’t take the damned thing off. I hoped the church was strong enough to ward off Samael, or that Fabrizio would have some answers on this damned quest. Some answer as to how we should proceed.
Because the Sons of Solomon wanted me dead.
Last Breath wanted everyone dead.
And Michael and Samael seemed pretty invested in me winning.
Chapter 23
The basement of Abundant Angel Catholic Church was much fancier than the actual church above. The basement was also a big fat secret. A hidden keypad camouflaged in the ancient stone walls opened the seemingly decrepit locked hallway door that led downstairs. And my code still worked.
Bad, bad Vatican Shepherds.
As I made my way down the familiar stairs with Cain trailing me, I couldn’t ignore the sense of nostalgia that rolled over me. I’d trained here for more than a decade—learning how to use my magic as well as how to defend myself in the physical arena. From any and all flavors of monster.
Since, you know, pretty much everyone was assumed an enemy of the Church. Right or wrong, that was just the way it was. At least initially.
Yet here I was, walking down the steps of a secret military branch of the Vatican in Kansas City with mankind’s first murderer. And I was no longer a dues-paying member of the Shepherds. For all intents and purposes, we did not belong in such hallowed halls.
Which was a strange feeling after Roland had spent so long training me here. And now neither of us were officially welcome in the very place we had called home for so long.
We left the stairs to enter a large training room with ridiculously tall ceilings, pillars, targets, platforms, mats, and a suspicious grate covering a large section of the floor.
It was the agility room where I had practiced evasion and maneuvering my environment. Like a giant clock, the room shifted, adjusted, and moved in ways that forced the practitioner to basically become a ninja or suffer permanent injury. The pillars would rotate, drop, rise, shoot out spikes, and all sorts of other fun surprises. A hacker friend, Othello, had even shown me how to program it to my favorite music playlist—which took a lot of time, but was ultimately worth it. Like a form of meditation.
I’d trained here so often that the room of deathtraps was a pleasant memory. Even when flames shot out where you didn’t expect them, or the ground disappeared beneath your feet earlier than you anticipated. Living a few moments off pure reaction and instinct was an adrenaline rush the likes I had rarely experienced in the typical aspects of a regular day. But free-running in here had been restricted until I had completed many years of training—when Roland had been confident enough I wouldn’t kill myself trying.
We walked on towards the weapons room to find Fabrizio Donati waiting for us.
Fabrizio Donati was a bald, squat man who looked like someone you wanted to have a beer with. He held the title of First Shepherd—the boss of the other Shepherds roaming the world, but also the Shepherd in charge of Vatican City herself. He reported only to the Conclave, a group of seven old, prejudiced assholes I wasn’t too particularly fond of. Despite his other responsibilities as First Shepherd, Fabrizio had been sent to Kansas City to train Arthur, the newest Shepherd initiate since Roland and I were out of the picture.
Arthur was a homeless man I had once run into in an alley and, fearing he had seen me use magic, I had taken him to a nearby café—the same one Cain and I had visited a few hours ago. That moment had changed both of our lives. He had correctly guessed my true name.
To clarify that, I had always gone by Callie since it had been written on the card in my crib when I was found at the steps of Abundant Angel Catholic Church.
It was only years later that I found the crib stowed away in my adopted parents’ garage and, in a fit of teenage angst, I had destroyed the crib…
And found something very peculiar inside the wreckage…I couldn’t definitively say it meant anything, but it had been one hell of a coincidence. Needing a bit of magic in my life, I had secretly adopted it—whether true or not. Like believing your real father was David Hasselhoff.
For example.
Although many had tried, no one had ever guessed correctly. Until Arthur, the humble, homeless man. Our friendship had blossomed after that, and he’d told me his own half-forgotten, half-remembered story. And then made me swear not to tell a soul. The jerk.
And it was a doozy. He wouldn’t even let me ask him about it in private.
So we each held the other’s most private secret with nothing but our word.
I had been so impressed with Arthur that I had encouraged him to visit David at Abundant Angel for a meal, shower, and change of clothes. He had cleaned up so well that he seemed to transform into an adult Hilfiger model in the prime of his life and even weaseled Father David into giving him a job at the church. He’d been here ever since, working in any capacity the church allowed. And now he was Fabrizio’s new student, training to become a Shepherd.
Coupled with what I knew about him…it was like watching an episode of the Twilight Zone.
But Arthur wasn’t here at the moment, and Fabrizio looked ready to chew rocks.
Under his glare, I very seriously reconsidered my plan of asking for his help. Instead, I pointed a thumb at Cain. “Hey, Fabrizio. This is Cain. He killed a guy once.”
“I know very well who he is,” Fabrizio said, dipping his chin in a casual greeting.
Cain nodded back and then rubbed his knuckles on his chest as if polishing his nails. “Always happy to meet a fan,” he said absently.
Fabrizio’s face darkened a few shades right before my eyes.
Before things went sideways, I cleared my throat. “What’s new, Meatball?”
He settled his rage fully on me this time, but his voice was monotone as he spoke. “Roland called. Forgot to mention a few things.”
I didn’t like the crazy look in his eyes. “Oh?”
He nodded. “Might have said something about the fires of Hell raining down upon me if anything happened to you. If you so much as earned a scratch while walking here.” He glanced at my fingers. “You didn’t happen to get scratched, did you?”
I shook my head silently.
“That’s good. That’s real good. You were supposed to be here an hour ago, by the way. That was another thing Roland warned me about. I think the consequence he gave me for that one was that he would personally turn me into a vampire and then kill me, just to guarantee that my soul went straight to Hell.” He paused meaningfully. “Something along those lines.”
Cain let out a single-note whistle that sounded like a bomb dropping from the skies.
I was shifting from foot to foot, both in shame and anger. It wasn’t like it was my fault, but it also wasn’t Fabrizio’s fault that Roland had set such parameters. “I’m—”
“There’s more,” Fabrizio interrupted coldly. “In case I didn’t fully comprehend the situation, Roland went on to tell me that he would next drown Kansas City in rivers of blood so deep and turbulent that the entire Conclave and every Shepherd would be needed to stem the tide of his wrath.” Fabrizio was clenching his fists at his side as he paused. “All of that from a man I call a friend. Because of you.”
Cain was silently mouthing the threats as if trying to commit them to memory for later use.
I lowered my eyes, facing Fabrizio. “He only told me he had called you
…” I whispered. “I’m sorry you had to hear that from your friend, and I’m sorry for being late.” I clamped my mouth shut, knowing that excuses needed to wait a minute or twenty. Until he calmed down. I wasn’t sure whether to be angry at Roland or…heartbroken.
Fabrizio let out a quivering breath, closing his eyes for a few moments. “I’m just glad that you’re okay, Callie. I’ll admit, I’ve known Roland for a very long time, and I’ve never heard him sound like that. Say things like that. He also doesn’t make empty threats. When you didn’t show up on time, I very seriously considered calling the entire Conclave here. The only reason I didn’t was because I knew Roland was asleep and that your chances of survival between his church and mine were all but a guarantee.” He paused, watching me intently. “Then I heard from Arthur, who was walking the streets in search of you. He caught the tail-end of your walk. And the aftermath with the police.”
I grimaced. “Would it make you feel better if I told you that what happened on our walk was totally unrelated to Roland’s threats?” I asked hesitantly.
Fabrizio—calm, solid, and a man of many laughs—looked like I had just punched him in the forehead. “Samael was in addition to what Roland was concerned about?” he asked in disbelief.
I nodded.
“What the hell have you gotten yourself into, Girlie?” he rasped, reverting to his nickname for me. I let out a breath of relief to hear him say it.
In answer, I held out the picture of the message at the fountain, and told him the story.
Fabrizio walked over to the bar and uncorked a more than half-empty bottle of wine as he listened. He poured himself a liberal glass, not even asking if we wanted one. After I’d finished speaking, he stared down at the picture, reading it over and over again.
Cain eventually cleared his throat. “Roland mentioned you knew about some big D’s…”
Fabrizio frowned at the bizarre statement, looking up. Cain was grinning from ear-to-ear, but it didn’t look like the Shepherd had caught the joke.
“The Doors are all capitalized,” I clarified, shooting Cain a dark look. He tapped his wrist and then shrugged, reminding me that time was of the essence. He had a point.
Fabrizio was already staring at the picture closer, his face paling. Bingo. Then he looked up at me. And when I say looked, I mean looked. “I need to show you something. Only you.”
Cain instantly jumped to his feet, all traces of humor gone as he began shouting at Fabrizio, his fists clenched at his sides. “Oh, no you don’t! I’m going with her, even if I have to tag along after her like a lost puppy. I will not lose another—”
He cut off abruptly and we both turned to face him, startled by both his explosive outburst and the fact that he had so urgently cut himself off. He still had his mouth open, and his face was beet-red. I’d given him hell before, but I’d never seen him embarrass himself so greatly.
“Another what, Cain?” I asked, frowning.
My last question snapped him out of it. He closed his mouth, breathing through his nose. I folded my arms, waiting. Seeing I wasn’t going to drop it, he finally let out a long, uneasy breath. “Sibling,” he all but whispered, staring down at his feet. “I was going to say I will not lose another sibling. I know we aren’t blood, but I guess I kind of see you as—”
I tackled him hard enough to make him grunt since he hadn’t been looking up to see me coming. We hit the mats and I planted a big, fat kiss on his forehead, blinking back my tears.
Not because he had called me sibling. He’d said that casually at the café. But this time, he had said it with significance, meaning it so strongly that it had caused him reacted in a storm of rage.
And that was very important to me. It had meaning.
It meant he had unshouldered his lifetime baggage over his brother, Abel. Abandoned his guilt, truly, not just on the surface. He never would have reacted like that without coming to some internal decision that he was now ready to have a sibling again. A real sibling. Not a friend he had promoted to sis or bro.
Which was a huge fucking leap, people. Imagine that. From his shoes.
Cain struggled instinctively until I gave him another wet kiss on the forehead. Then I squeezed him into a tight hug, and he finally let out a hesitant sigh. When I felt him squeeze me back, I knew I had broken through the last of his defenses. That my gesture had welded a little bit of his soul back together—given him that reassurance he needed.
A sibling’s hug. A sister’s hug.
He had needed that hug for millennia, folks, but had never let anyone close enough to offer it. To grant him forgiveness for his past crime with Abel.
I climbed back to my feet and stared down at him, wiping away my tears and sniffling. He propped himself up on his elbows, grinning happily.
Then I kicked his elbow out from under him, knocking him onto his back. He gasped in surprise, glaring up at me in confusion.
“Sisters suck, Cain. You just made the biggest mistake of your life.” Then I grinned at him, before rounding on Fabrizio. “My brother is coming with me, Meatball. Deal with it.”
Fabrizio was watching Cain in amazement, picking up on the deeper meaning in what had just happened. I snapped my fingers to catch his attention.
He visibly started, looking embarrassed. “Right. The Cursed Doors… they started appearing the night you were found on the steps of the church.”
Chapter 24
I realized I had sat down. I didn’t remember doing it, but Cain was kneeling beside me, glaring at the Shepherd. He also had a hand on my shoulder. Fabrizio seemed oblivious, his eyes distant as he shook his head, murmuring to himself.
“Hey!” Cain snapped angrily. “This isn’t a monologue.”
Fabrizio froze, looking down at us with a frown. “Sorry. It’s just…I can’t help but wonder if this is fate…” he said softly. “That if you hadn’t gone to Rome, I never would have met you. If Roland hadn’t become a vampire, I never would have become First Shepherd, and I never would have been sent here.” He met my eyes. “I wouldn’t have been here to tell you the truth about the Doors. And I wouldn’t have been here for Father David to confess his strange secret.”
I felt goosebumps on my arms, wondering what the hell he was talking about.
“I’ll try to tell it all in a way that makes sense. Bear with me, because I’m only just now seeing it in its entirety,” he said, seeming to gather his thoughts.
I leaned into Cain as he sat down beside me, and we waited for Fabrizio to speak.
“Like all good stories, there was a storm,” the First Shepherd said, smiling sadly. “And those Heavenly labor pains gave Abundant Angel her first child. You. Father David was battening down the hatches for the surprise storm when he heard a baby’s cry and a banging on the front door of the church. He opened it to find you.
“I was there, along with two other Shepherds. Three Wise Men, as it were,” he chuckled sarcastically. “We were passing through on an assignment, chasing down a dark wizard.” I kept my face neutral, but felt like I had just been slapped in the face. Was he talking of my mother?
“You were here? You saw…me?” I whispered, my fingers shaking.
Fabrizio grunted affirmatively. “As I’m only just learning, but yes. A bawling, white-haired babe. But we were Shepherds, not babysitters. Much too serious to give you anything more than a passing glance. We were more concerned with the bolt of lightning that Father David swore struck the church and killed the power,” he said, mocking his younger self. “We went off in search of the circuit breakers and made a discovery. Father David had told us to enter the only door on the right side of the hallway to find the circuit breaker. But we found two doors on the right side of the hallway.” he said, pointing in the direction of the door we had used to enter this very basement. My eyes widened in disbelief and he nodded slowly. “We explored this new door while Father David cared for the bawling babe.”
He looked up at me apologetically, and I realized I was panting. Cain
placed an arm over my shoulders, squeezing tightly.
“Neither that door, nor the levels below the church, existed before that night…” he whispered, holding his hands up to display the training room around us. “We, of course, assumed it had just been missed—the church built atop ruins that had somehow been overlooked, but Father David was adamant about it. Finding a broken wall that led to a secret level was one thing, but finding a perfectly-functioning door that no one had never seen before?”
He shook his head and I found myself—against the impossibility of it all—nodding my agreement.
“That’s when we found the lower cavern with the Doors. There was only three, then, one for each of us. We debated back and forth and ultimately decided to enter one. My fellow Shepherd, Anthony, stepped through one of the Doors and we waited to see what he found on the other side.” He paused, his throat dry. “We waited a full day, but he never returned. My second brother, Luke, decided to go after him, to save him. I waited three days, but neither returned. And every time I stepped away to sleep or eat, a new Door had appeared until the cavern contained a dozen of them. I locked the place down and instantly called the Conclave to investigate—to update the prison cells we had found below, just in case. We spent weeks fortifying this place from attack, warding it from whatever occupied the other ends of the Doors. We sent more volunteers through the Doors, trying all of them. Some volunteers were armed to the teeth, some naked, some were wizards, some Regulars, some were women, some men. We tried everything.” He met my eyes, his own haunted. “None ever returned.”
I realized Cain was actually supporting my weight, now.
“We locked the area down for years, accepting our losses and hoping to find answers back in Rome in the Vatican archives. By then, you had been adopted, and no one ever connected your arrival with the phenomenon, so transfixed with the Doors and secret lower levels that a baby on the steps of the church was dismissed over the supernatural danger below.”
Sinner: Feathers and Fire Book 5 Page 13