He smiled for the first time. “Oh, we’ve gotten a small taste of her spunk. I fear she will be incorrigible, now.”
I grinned wider, then followed the glances of the other two bears to where Yuri lay. “I take it you have your proof?” I asked warily.
Starlight nodded, eyes narrowing. “We already believed it, but he deserved his… day in court.” He met my eyes, pensive. “I don’t think I want to be in your court. Ever.”
I nodded in agreement.
Armor spoke up. “We must be off. We’ll speak again. Soon. But we’ll likely be away for a while. Maybe even up north,” he said with a rueful grin.
Kona picked her up on two legs, and carried her away over a shoulder, stroking her hair.
I heard footsteps behind me, and turned to see Cain supporting Beckett. The world’s first murderer was shaking his head, laughing heartily. Beckett smirked casually, playing it cool, eyes darting to me frequently as if checking I was okay. I risked a glance at Brigitte to find her still unconscious, but her necklace gone. I immediately panicked, and then remembered that Amira the demon was dead. Still, the woman was a first-class piece of shit. For her beliefs, and for her ignorance. Not an immediate threat, but she would definitely need to be watched. Since I had absolutely no sympathy for her, I decided that Roland could babysit her.
Cain finally stepped up to me, and Beckett met my eyes with a proud grin.
“Holy shit, Callie. Do you have any idea how hard it was to sit up there? I felt like I was watching a prize fight in Vegas!” Cain hooted.
I smiled, staring down at the phone in his hand. “How was it?” I asked hopefully.
He was silent, so I looked back at his face, my heart skipping a beat. “Thousands of Freaks watched this live…” he said in disbelief. “Keeping up with the comments was impossible. They were cheering you on! Dorian sure knows how to get the word out, and he was very thankful when I showed up and told him he didn’t have to be the one filming, like you had told him.”
I sighed in relief. “I’m glad Father David blessed that water for you, or this could have gone an entirely different way…”
Cain grinned. “You should have seen the look on his face when I asked him to do it!”
A very slow clap interrupted us, and I glared up at the newcomer. So that was who Amira had been expecting to show, and I thought I understood what had happened, but we would see. “You can kill him if you want, Cain,” I said neutrally.
Chapter 50
Haven stood before us, surrounded by his goons. I hadn’t gotten a good look at him during the fundraiser, but his goons were familiar. “That was quite impressive,” the new Master Vampire of Kansas City said, grinning like a shark. “Using a live stream to broadcast this fight. Letting all the freaks know to watch. To witness how Amira had played us all against each other.”
“Even you,” I added with a mocking grin.
“Perhaps,” he said. “Or perhaps not.”
Cain sighed dramatically. “I followed you, halfwit. Did you really think I was that clumsy? I placed a tracker on you in the alley when you took my friend, here. Now I know where you’re holing up.”
Haven slowly turned to study him, frowning. He didn’t look pleased to hear this part. Not at all. But he finally nodded. “Do you blame me? When two Masters have died here in the space of a few months. Master Simon was my friend, Callie.”
I didn’t say anything, merely watched him. He returned my look, reading me.
“But after tonight, I must agree with the other rumor… that Master Simon’s death was a setup. A frame job. Quite devious of them, really. Regardless, I played along with her demands, but not because I had any notion of partnering with her. It was a power play to solidify my territory. I was hoping to do something such as this, only with me as the star of the show. Turn the nations against her by getting her to admit her crimes.”
“But you didn’t get anything out of this, and there’s no way for me to verify your claim.”
He shrugged. “Do some magic to verify my words, if you must. I’ll let you.”
He waited, but I didn’t do anything. Not because I trusted him, but because I wasn’t powerful enough to tie my boots with magic at the moment. I was exhausted, and barely standing.
“We’ll address that later. For now, I think there’s been enough death and destruction. But…” I said, meeting his eyes. “Tomorrow’s a new day, and I’m kind of curious of the reaction of the Freaks to what they saw tonight. I’m sure many of them will have stories to tell. Or people to tell on.” I enunciated the last word, but not a flicker of concern crossed his crocodile eyes.
“I swear it on my title that I had no intention of working with Amira. I – and many other factions in town – were forced to comply. I’m new in town, and the vampires are not what they once were, of which Amira was very aware. She offered me strength and support, but having heard what happened to Master Simon, I was skeptical. Still, I couldn’t stand against her. Not directly.” He drew a sudden claw over his wrist, letting the blood drip to the earth. Then he extended his hand politely for me to shake.
I stared at it warily. “Did you kill anyone for her?”
He nodded slowly. “The wolf. But one thing you should know, if your police had any skill whatsoever,” he added with a dry look at Beckett, who stiffened angrily. “Each victim was actually quite a terrible person. Every. Single. One.” He must have noticed my doubtful look. “I can send you a copy of their files.”
I nodded appreciatively. “Send one to the police as well. Anonymously.”
“Of course,” he replied, bowing his head slightly. Then he cleared his throat. “Amira hoped to smother you with their records, hoping you wasted time learning the truth about each as you tried to find a connection between them. She repeatedly informed me that I must choose someone terrible, because if I chose an innocent, her game might be noticed too early. But the vampires weren’t to be touched. That’s when I realized I was just another cog. That twat bear killed one of mine,” he said, shooting a hateful look at Yuri. “I took one of his in return. Ragmussen,” he said, smirking. “Amira wasn’t pleased with my deviation, and so, commanded me to get him.” He pointed at Beckett. “No hard feelings? I didn’t strike you. And I did give you the key to your shackles.”
I blinked at him, then rounded on Beckett. He smiled. “He did.”
“And why wasn’t this the first thing that was said?” I shouted angrily. The men shared a look. One of the guards even scratched his head, as if I had spoken a different language.
Haven puffed up importantly. “I heard Dorian’s broadcast, and realized I might have a hero to latch onto. So, I gave my brief prisoner the key to his freedom before I handed him over.” He turned back to me. “If you failed, none would have ever been the wiser,” he added honestly.
I nodded, still not shaking his hand.
He sighed dramatically. “Look at it this way. I didn’t want to come here. Too much sun. London is much nicer. But when an opening comes up, a fledgling Master must abide by the Sanguine Council. And if I’m going to rule somewhere, I’m going to do a good job of it. Not make the same mistake of blindly dealing with demons, like Master Simon – buying her lies hook, line, and sinker, believing they were on the same side. I never trusted her, but being the new kid on the block has its disadvantages. In all honesty, I came here tonight to hopefully witness this. But worst case, to stab Amira in the back after you tired her out. Well, shoot her in the back,” he amended, pointing a finger up to the roof of a third building.
I saw a sniper sitting there. His gun pointed straight up. Seeing our attention, he lifted his hand in a gesture of hello.
“If I wanted you dead, I would have simply let him shoot you, rather than come say hello.” Haven extended his hand again, and I finally sighed, shaking it with a firm grip. “And I wouldn’t have given your friend the keys to his cuffs.”
“This doesn’t make us friends, Haven,” I warned. “I respect your blunt
honesty, but I don’t fully trust you. Not yet. I tried to talk with you at the fundraiser and was rebuffed. We could have been working beside each other this whole time.”
The muscle-head guard behind him shifted uncomfortably, and Haven actually turned to glare at him. “I wasn’t aware of that…” he said, sounding sincere. “Do you know why she needed you to be angry?” he asked, turning back to face me.
I frowned. “What?”
“She was quite adamant about it. She needed you confused and angry. Very, very angry. She said it repeatedly.”
I thought about it. Maybe it was because of the Spear. She had wanted me to use it. Likely to weaken it, or break it completely. Maybe she had hoped my rage would make that choice easier.
I had come into this angry, even remained so for some time, but something in me had changed during the fight. A sense of responsibility rather than joy. A job that needed doing. A story that needed to be shared with our private, online live-stream that Dorian had set up.
I shrugged at Haven.
“Well, I’d like to wish you congratulations, and to let you know you are welcome to come see my territory. To see for yourself. Even speak to my people. It would go a long way in earning their trust, and overcoming their fears after this,” he said waving a hand at the general area. “I still can’t believe Dorian managed to contact so many people so quickly to let them know this event was being played live online.”
I shrugged disinterestedly. “I put him in a corner, and he used the service he uses for his parties. A big messaging system. I bet his contacts spread word from there, and much as gossip always does, it spread like wildfire. He’s a party animal. And if one suddenly found themselves receiving a message passed on from Dorian Gray, pretty much any of them would be interested. Just to brag about it later. And would share it to look favored.”
Haven nodded. “Very sneaky. I approve.”
“This conversation has been pleasant, but my blood is still a little hot. Let’s meet later. I think I would very much like to see your territory,” I said neutrally, sounding as if it was simply something I could cross off my list of things to do.
He nodded, and turned to leave. “Oh, one last thing,” he called over his shoulder. “I injected the policeman with Holy Water. Nasty, vile stuff. But I didn’t want Amira biting him. Granted, it’s not as good as giving her a Holy Water shower, but it would have been enough for her to toss him away on reflex if she had tried, giving him a chance to run to safety, where I had men standing by to assist,” he said.
Beckett slapped his neck instinctively, face pale. I saw a small dot on the side of his neck. Not two, like a vampire bite, but one single, almost indistinguishable dot.
When I turned back to Haven, he and his goons were already gone.
Cain nodded to himself, eyeing the space they had occupied. “I like him.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s just because he beat you handily. Let’s go home.”
Chapter 51
I pressed stop on the laptop, cutting off the audio file. Silence filled the room.
Pastor Benjamin was shaking his head in profound sorrow. We hadn’t played him everything, simply Brigitte’s confession to helping with the chaos, the mobs. And that she had done it for love. For Pastor Benjamin.
Roland watched him thoughtfully, but Father David simply stared down at the desk respectfully.
“Where…” Benjamin cleared his throat. “Where is she now?”
Beckett answered, standing apart from us. “She fled. The police are looking for her.”
Desmond was sobbing openly, but Pastor Benjamin’s shoulders sagged further. He was likely hit twice by this. Once for her crimes, twice for her admission of love.
“I think…” he said, slowly climbing to his feet, staring down at nothing. “I think I’m done here.” And then he was walking out of the room. Desmond sniffed loudly, wiping his face, and followed him. Beckett followed them out of the room, leaving us in privacy.
“Well,” Roland began, “as happy as I am to see him leave, I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”
Father David nodded his agreement.
“What will the Vatican do with her?” I asked.
“Keep her locked up for now. She could be susceptible to further influence if another demon found her. But she’ll also feel right at home surrounded by Cardinals and Sisters,” he smiled sadly.
Roland had only just arrived at the church, and we hadn’t had time to talk about anything. He moved slowly, still in pain from his injuries, but shot me a withering glare if he caught me openly noticing it. I met his eyes, and then glanced at Father David when he wasn’t looking. Roland sighed, motioning for me to continue, and looking as if he was bracing for torture.
“What if the bomber learns about her?” I asked.
“I received an update on that. The bomber was wearing a vest, killing himself, and any evidence linking him to a crime. His entire workstation was obliterated. I was lucky to be a few tables down from him that day as I researched records to try and find out who he was. He must have known me on sight, and activated a failsafe. To kill himself and destroy the evidence.” He sighed tiredly. “After later going through his online records, they found proof of what he was looking into, but most of the physical proof was missing.”
I frowned angrily. Not that I wasn’t happy Roland was safe, but that the evidence was gone. I wouldn’t find out who my parents were.
When I looked up, Roland was staring at me. “I found a single paper that confirmed your story. That you had been left at the church, but nothing about your parents. No names. Basically, a review of Father David’s report when he first found you,” he said sadly.
I growled.
“But to be fair, I’m not sure there ever was much more evidence than that. Because, why would there be? Your parents didn’t exactly contact the Vatican to let them know your life story before leaving you here with Father David and then disappearing. They wanted you safe. So they kept their names out of it. It was just enough information for Johnathan to connect the dots.”
I nodded numbly. Thinking about it made sense, actually. If there had been anything more, I was sure Father David would have found it and passed it on. Unless my parents had later decided to contact the Vatican to tell them my story, why would the Vatican have any knowledge of me? Giving the Vatican my story would have directly contradicted the entire point of their actions.
To keep me safe.
“At least we got the mole,” I said dejectedly.
Roland nodded. “The evidence proves it. He was the only one to search those particular files. Other than Father David a few decades ago. Literally.”
Father David piped up. “Does it really change anything, Callie? Would learning their names suddenly make you a different person? You are quite an incredible woman already.”
My eyes burned at the thought. How could I explain? “A girl should know her father.”
“Well, not to belabor the obvious, but we all share the same father…” he said softly. I looked up, eyes murderous, and saw him smiling. “But I do understand, Callie.”
Roland cleared his throat. “Terry is your father. And if you ever need another, I’m here.”
“Hey! I knew her first,” Father David chimed in, smiling at me.
I lowered my eyes, nodding. They were right. Nothing had changed. I had no reason to suddenly be sad. But… the hope had messed with me. To find a picture, or a name, or something. Anything. I knew my mother’s name was Constance, but who was my father?
“Callie, will you finally let me know what really happened last night?” Roland asked tiredly. “I’m exhausted, and you look like you could sleep for a week, so I know there’s a story.”
Without speaking, I opened up a new tab on the computer, scrolled down, and clicked play.
A video replay popped up, starting with me walking into a parking lot. I climbed to my feet and walked towards the door, not wanting to talk. “That should give you the gist of
it,” I said as I opened the door and exited the room. I closed the door behind me.
I walked down the stairs, imagining a nice, long nap. Beckett was still swimming in the aftermath of it all, unable to participate in the investigation, and forced to sit on his hands. Haven had made good on his promise to deliver the files on the victims, which probably meant he hadn’t been lying about them. I hoped that evidence would vindicate Beckett. He was a good detective.
I opened a door at the base of the stairs and walked into the sanctuary.
I heard Arthur arguing and looked up to find a tall black man with dreadlocks looking extremely patient as he let Arthur’s tirade wash over him. I froze. My stalker.
“She is busy, and without a name, you won’t step one foot—” The man looked over Arthur’s shoulder very suddenly, and Arthur stopped, turning to see me.
“Callie Penrose. My name is Alyksandre, and I would like to speak with you,” he said in a very deep voice, all bass.
“I tried telling him to come back later, but he wouldn’t listen,” Arthur growled. “And it was too difficult to give me a name to pass on,” he added, glaring back at the younger man.
“The name would have meant nothing to her. We are strangers,” he replied politely.
I walked closer, studying him acutely. My boots didn’t tingle or give off any indication of anything dangerous, and my magic didn’t tell me he was anything dangerous either.
“Why would you like to speak with me?” I asked, placing a comforting hand on Arthur’s shoulder, which seemed to calm him somewhat, although he still looked on the verge of throwing Alyksandre out on his ear.
“I was a friend of Gabriel,” he said softly. My heart began hammering in my chest. Gabriel… the Nephilim Johnathan had killed. I nodded slowly, realizing that this man may have answers for me. “Would it make sense to you if I said we only did as commanded? That you needed to decide your own path before aid could be offered. That a certain feather you found broke a ward placed on you from birth, but that the full gift couldn’t be given until you reached a certain personal decision?” His eyes studied me, full of deeper meaning. I felt my heart pattering wildly. Alyksandre glanced down at Arthur curiously, then back to me.
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