Roland grunted. “Yes.”
I wanted to kick him in the kidneys but knew it wouldn’t do any good. It was over and done with anyway. “Anyone else you’ve given my DNA to that I should know about?” I snarled.
“By the way, they’re called the Conclave. They guide the Shepherds, and you can trust them.”
“Except when you can’t,” I fired back. The Conclave… it sounded both religious and ominous. Why hadn’t he shared that name with me before? I wasn’t very excited about all these revelations. It signified that I was getting closer to their secrets, tied to them with invisible strings. Closer to becoming one of them.
Roland didn’t have a response to my comment, remembering all too well the traitor who had sold us out to the demons. The man had blown himself up rather than turning himself in. That was dedication for you.
I followed Roland into the elevator and stared ahead at the passing doors as he brought us back up to the training area. He exited and approached the wall where my dragon-chain weapon hung all by itself. He smirked at me over his shoulder and then touched part of the trim on the floor. The wall swung up on silent hinges, revealing a small room behind it, complete with a few chairs, a fireplace, and a well-stocked bar. He set his thermos on a table.
I blinked at Roland. “No wonder you fought me so hard on using this wall for my weapon!” I hissed, following him into the room. He flicked on two lamps, poured two drinks that smelled like cognac, and then handed one to me before sitting down with a tired sigh. I inspected the unique, bell-shaped glass – a snifter – and took a whiff. Definitely cognac.
I sat in the other chair and touched glasses with him before taking a sip. As I did, Roland casually flicked his wrist at the cold fireplace which suddenly flared to life as if it had been burning for hours, filling the room with a soothing heat that was not conducive to staying awake.
“So, Whispers, drugs, visions, and the Angel…” Roland said, leaning back with his eyes closed. “Start wherever seems to make the most sense since it all sounds terrible.” I glanced over to see him smirking to himself, resigned to hear about my failures.
I took another drink and then began to talk. He particularly enjoyed the sparring, but before long he was sitting up, head cocked as he listened in rapt attention. At one point, he even held up a hand for me to pause so he could grab more liquor from the bar. He took a sip straight from the decanter and then filled my snifter to the brim before settling back into his chair, hugging the crystal bottle like a security blanket. He drank often, muttering under his breath as he shook his head – both in disbelief and concern. Especially about my forgotten visions.
First cursing, now alcoholism. This wasn’t good. Roland was in the badlands.
Once finished, I took a shaky breath and tried to mask my fear by taking a long drink. It burned on the way down, but I also felt something loosen in my neck, some unknown tension.
Roland was now staring into the fire, seeming to argue with himself. He glanced back, not directly at me, but over his shoulder. “Starlight used to be a wizard… I never knew that.”
I turned to him. “After all that, you focus on the teddy bear?”
He shrugged. “Easiest one first. How about this?” he said, leaning forward as he pinned me to my seat with a glare. “You got high, and then saw things that scared you so badly that you mentally locked them away,” he said.
I scowled at him. “I was in a spiritual place. It’s an ancient rite of pass—”
“You were stoned, Callie. Let’s not bandy words. I’m not discrediting your story, but I do want you to be honest with yourself. You were literally high when you had these… visions. Sometimes people have very bad experiences on drugs, and their minds can only take so much.”
He didn’t sound angry, he sounded… academic. I still wanted to throttle him. I knew it hadn’t just been a bad trip. I had seen something. Something important. “You want to tell Starlight that his spiritual hut is just a stoner’s lodge? Let me know. I can call him right now, but I’d really rather see you tell him in person.” I frowned. “In fact, I can take you straight to the bears. We can get them all together so you can call them junkies…”
Roland grumbled in frustration until he saw the smile on my cheeks.
“I’m being serious, Callie. You have to admit the possibility that you just had a bad experience. You said Beckett was fine…” he added, not sounding pleased that the detective hadn’t grabbed me by the hair to drag me out of the hut. “My only advice on the visions is to let them simmer on the back burner. If they were important, they’ll come back to you.” He took a swig of his drink, smiling crookedly. “But good little boys and girls don’t do drugs. We’re Catholic. We drink,” he said, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.
I laughed. The image of Roland drinking from the bottle while judging me. “Shifter weed, the gateway drug,” I sighed. “Kids these days, right? With their dang-fangled electronic telephones and whatnot. Back in my day, I had to really want to call someone, or track down a pigeon—”
“Hilarious,” Roland interrupted. “I’m dying laughing over here. Seriously.” His voice had all the emotion of a slab of stone.
I sighed. “You can at least try to lighten up. The Vatican wants to question me about giving a demon the Holy Waterboarding treatment without permission, shifter reefer ruined my life, I just threatened an Angel, I’m hearing whispers in my head—”
He looked suddenly alert, recalling my brief explanation. “Whispers… And you couldn’t understand them? What did they sound like? Was it English or something else?”
I tried to recall, but finally grunted. “They sounded like goddamned whispers, Roland. I couldn’t make anything out clearly, but the Angel seemed pretty interested in them.”
He tapped his lips in frustration. “I’ve never heard of them,” he admitted. “But you used your silver magic on an Angel? And he didn’t notice? That’s impressive. I’m even more surprised he didn’t flay you alive for refusing to work for him. He’s an Angel, Callie…”
“I’ve told you over and over again that I have a problem working for groups of people in general. Anytime you’re working for a group, the mission statement can change and become political. This applies to both the Vatican and the Angels. You know this. I’m not taking a stab at God or Christianity, I’m saying I don’t want to work for anyone I haven’t personally met.”
He scowled back at me, but finally conceded my point. “But Nephilim and an Angel!”
I shrugged. “Allegedly. Let’s be clear about something. They have literally done nothing to help me before. The only Nephilim I can say that tried to help me was Gavin – who was murdered before my eyes by Johnathan, and I can’t even say he was a big help, because he lied about who he was. And what if he didn’t actually work for Angel the Angel?” I added. “Because so far, their track record is less than stellar.” Roland sighed, nodding his agreement, but likely ready to chime in with Free Will this, or Free Will that. I wasn’t having any of it. I was judging on actions, not titles. “I’m more interested in finding out what they know about my father, not their quest for good will and peace on earth. If they don’t share, we’re done. Even if they do share, I may still walk away. I’m not looking for a Sunday School lesson.”
Roland stared at me, both angry and… agreeable, I realized with a frown.
“That… is very logical.” He met my eyes, looking concerned. “And if you’re wrong, that is very… stupid. They don’t suffer disrespect lightly. Especially not twice.”
“I don’t suffer fools, Roland. Or those who would use me for their ends. They haven’t helped me. Not once. For such a supreme group of noble fuckers, their virtues are sorely lacking.”
Roland grimaced at my choice of words, but he couldn’t argue my point.
I met his eyes, trying to let him know I was finished talking about it. He finally relented.
I cleared my throat in relief. “Now, tell me about the murder. Was he a friend? And wh
at were the wolves doing with him?”
Roland’s eyes grew very far away, the silence in our small room seeming hollow enough to shatter at anything louder than a breath. “Constantine. He was… my mentor.”
“Fucking hell…” I muttered.
Chapter 15
He was so lost in thought that he didn’t even admonish me, which was saying a lot. He could almost do that in his sleep by now. “I’m sorry, Roland…” he nodded absently, staring into the flames. I waited for him to speak, and when he didn’t, I pressed. “You don’t really think the girls did this, do you? Jasmine and Tiffany?” He shook his head angrily. “How much do you know?” The cynical part of me had reared her head. If Roland had found this out from the Vatican, did he even know the truth or had they fed him a lie? Was there another traitor? What if it was an inside job to frame the wolves and make Roland look bad? He had said they cleaned house, but cockroaches could hide anywhere, and the better they were at hiding, the more dangerous they were. Hell, the last one hadn’t been particularly crafty, but he had sure taken a page from suicide bombers, willing to risk dozens of lives rather than be caught.
Roland spoke very softly. “After I left to come back here, Constantine took them under his wing as a personal favor. He went on patrol in the city, letting them tagalong with him for practice, much as you and I did in the beginning.” I smiled nostalgically. Werewolf Shepherds? Cool. “They were late bloomers, and although they hadn’t had any accidents, they still needed to be supervised for safety. They had been doing very well – able to shift at will, control their anger, and scent like they were born to it…” he said, smiling proudly. I stared at him. That was big. Shifting at will? This early? That was impressive. “They had found a new purpose in life, deciding to use their curse for good, rather than fall into depression. Surprisingly, they don’t hate men, which is very rare. They consider this a new shot at life. To make sure what happened to them never happens to anyone else.” His voice had taken on a dark edge, as if remembering the night we had saved them.
We had found them chained to the wall in a bakery’s storage room. The thug werewolves had infected them and raped them. Repeatedly. The noble, calm Shepherd before me had killed them in the most brutally efficient manner I had ever seen. An execution.
It had been a short, sweet symphony of carnage set to the tempo of a sunrise.
Roland took a calming breath. “I didn’t want this life for them, and neither did they, but I’ll take it over the alternatives. It’s not like I can bring them back from the dead. Who they were before doesn’t matter anymore. To the world at large, especially your friend Beckett, they died. Their choice, not mine.”
I clicked my teeth shut at the last statement. “Beckett could—”
Roland shot a red-rimmed eye at me. He shook his head very slowly. “No. They asked this of me, and I will see their wishes fulfilled. The two women we found in the bakery are dead. Two wolves rose from the ashes, and they want to do some good in the world. They can’t do that if anyone discovers they survived. Swear it.”
I nodded, but Roland didn’t lower his glare until I lifted my hands in surrender. He finally muttered under his breath and turned back to the fire. I wondered if the church was trying to indoctrinate them into becoming Shepherds. Or Initiates like me. Shepherds in training. The Junior Varsity God Squad. “What happened next?” I asked.
Roland was shaking his head. “It doesn’t make any sense…” he growled, sounding pissed off. “I know them. They wouldn’t have laid a finger on Constantine. He was like a father to them…”
“Roland…”
He finally tensed his shoulders, voice bitter. “I wasn’t allowed to talk to them. They’re imprisoned.” I tried to maintain my steady breathing so as not to set him off. They had survived rape and kidnapping, only to be turned into werewolves against their will – to be used as baby-makers to build a new pack. Then, they had found a way to turn that curse into something good – at least as far as Roland had been told. But… now they were accused of killing the one man who had taken them in? It didn’t make any sense. Roland and I had saved them from a life of slavery. If anything, the church should be their best friend. They had no motive.
“What happened?” I repeated.
The room was silent as Roland considered his response. “It happened last week, but the Conclave waited to tell me until tonight,” he snarled. “The girls were found naked, injured, and unconscious beside Constantine’s body. His throat had been slit. No surveillance, but they have witnesses,” he whispered. Crap. It looked exactly like the wolves had killed him and taken a victory nap.
Roland saw my face, and his eyes lit with an inner fire. “That is why I must go to the Vatican. Even if you weren’t requested as well, I would still go, to vouch for them and get to the bottom of this disaster. I know them, Callie. I can read young women. They didn’t do this. The witnesses are wrong.”
I nodded, mind racing. I was more objective about the subject than Roland because I hadn’t spent as much time around them. They hadn’t had time to latch onto me, but I had heard how devoted they had become to Roland. Perhaps they had shifted and been startled to see someone other than Roland beside them. A man. Self-defense, in an odd, twisted way. But… that didn’t track with their supposed records.
I stood and walked over to Roland, placing a hand on his shoulder. His muscles were rigid beneath my hand, showing me how worked up he was. He was genuinely concerned for these girls. Protective. But did that make him biased? Was his heart or his mind in charge?
“If you trust them, Roland, I believe you. But word of advice. If you go around telling people you are a good judge of character, and they meet me, they’ll call you the worst liar in the world.”
He stiffened, glancing up at me with wet eyes. A surprised laugh coughed up from his stomach, despite his best efforts. “Thank you, Callie,” he whispered. “Maybe I can reschedule your hearing for a few weeks after I get this taken care of. I’d hate for your performance to ruin my chances at proving their innocence,” he said, eyes twinkling with amusement.
I rolled my eyes. “Men. See a new piece of candy and forget all about their previous commitments. Always trading up for the newest model…” I muttered, feigning anger.
He shrugged. “It’s the way it’s always been done, and I would hate to change that.” He winked at me.
“We’ll figure this out together. But if we’re leaving tomorrow, we have a few things to take care of.” He frowned, and then his eyes widened.
“I almost forgot. The vampire meeting is tomorrow!” he all but hissed. “When do we meet them? Have you scoped the place out? Made sure we’re covered in case it’s a trap of some ki—”
“We’re good to go. Tomorrow at midnight. For lunch,” I added drily, using Haven’s words.
Roland rolled his eyes. “Vampires,” he spat. “Hilarious at the jokes.” He tapped his lips, thinking. “Let’s go right now. Rome is seven hours ahead of us, so I would rather leave early. But if we cancel on Haven that slippery bastard will put us off for weeks. At least we can say we did something useful before we left.” He snapped his fingers and the fire went out. His eyes caught the light from the other room, looking downright sinister. “And it would be nice if Haven decided to upset me right now. I’ve got some things I need to work out. Some Free Will to exercise…”
I smiled, shaking my head, realizing I was going to get no chance for sleep tonight. Also, Roland had cursed again. He was well and truly on the highway to Hell.
We had been trying to schedule a meeting with the Master Vampire of Kansas City for months now. Haven wanted to show us that he had his people in line, and I wanted to get more familiar with the various factions in town. I had no reason to suspect Haven of doing anything wrong, but that meant it was the perfect time to go scope his operations out.
So that if he ever did do something wrong, I knew exactly where to find him and all his little vampires. So I could kill them all with less effor
t.
“Let’s go see the vampires,” I said sweetly. “Unannounced should be fun.”
Roland replied by cocking a pistol and following me from the training room.
Chapter 16
We drove up to Haven’s mansion about an hour later, around three in the morning, not wanting to Shadow Walk there and start an all-out war. Seeing my truck pull up to the gates was alarming enough, judging by the stunned looks on the guards’ faces.
“We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow,” one guard said. I didn’t recognize him.
“It’s three in the morning. That counts.”
The guard beside him leaned in to whisper something into his ear. The speaking guard nodded, and then flashed me a fake smile. “I will call in to see if he’s available.”
I leaned out the window. “We’re here for a pleasant, previously agreed-upon meeting, but that can always change. For your sake, and his, I surely hope you can reach him. Good help is so hard to find these days. And I’m bitchy when tired.”
His shoulders stiffened at my subtle hint that he wouldn’t survive if I didn’t get the answer I wanted, but his fellow guard placed a hand on his shoulder. I recognized him as one of the guards I had met at a gala when Haven first came to town. Looked like he had been demoted, but still had some credibility if the lead guard here was listening to his advice. His warning.
The lead guard finally departed with a nod to place a call on a cell phone.
Roland was leaning out the other window, inhaling deeply. “Did you know these woods are famous? Used to make the best spears for miles from these trees. Stakes, spears, even the beams for the local church.” He shrugged, pretending not to notice the tightened look in the guard’s eyes. “What I hear, anyway.” He leaned closer and took another sniff. “You’re human.”
The guard nodded. He wasn’t as talkative as the last time I had seen him.
Whispers: Feathers and Fire Book 3 Page 7