by J. T. Hardy
White plaster walls gave the room a lighter feel, with soft orange and turquoise patterns painted on the columns and arches. More stained glass windows--these with cheerful blue borders--sat in recessed windows above alcoves displaying brightly colored statues of saints. Wood beams carved in a lacy floral latticework ran across the ceiling, simple, yet elegant. No fuss, no muss, just a quiet serenity.
Pretty.
Still no Cavanaugh.
Libby walked over to a rack filled with candles. About half were flickering, and their golden light danced across the wall and along the floor. She lit one of the candles and mumbled something softly under her breath.
"For the Helgarsons," she said.
"That's nice."
The cleaning woman looked over as if finally noticing us. After a pause, she put down her rag and oil and approached me with a smile. A glint of diamond sparkled in her nose. "Do you need some help?"
"Just looking for someone, but thanks."
"One of the priests? I can find one for you if you need."
I shook my head, keeping my voice low. "That's okay, we--"
"Grace," Libby called softly. "Offices."
"Looks like she found him," I told the woman. "Thank you, though."
"You have a nice day."
I followed Libby back to the foyer and through the inner door, entering a hallway with offices along one side. Tall, narrow glass panels lined the upper half of the doors, just big enough to peek inside the room. At the end of the hall it curved to the right, next to a sign with classroom numbers and an arrow.
Too early for school, but soon these halls would be full of kids. An image flashed through my mind and I grinned. Maybe they were the next generation of hunters, and the school was all a cover. Cavanaugh and his friend found the vampires and a swarm of teen-aged girls slew them.
A soft click broke the stillness and a door opened in front of us. Cavanaugh stepped into the hall holding his open laptop and a thick file folder. He did a double take and gasped.
"What are you doing here?" he said. "Did you follow me?"
"I'm told I have trust issues."
His eyes narrowed. "I said I'd call."
"You also know who Kokabiel is."
An uncomfortable pause, then he squared his shoulders. "I know what he is. There's a difference. And you lied to me--you know these things aren't vampires."
I pointed two fingers at myself. "Trust. Issues."
His gaze flicked to the folder in his hand. "Fine, let's talk." Stepping aside, he gestured us into the room he'd just left. We entered a small office with an impressive snow globe collection on the bookshelf.
"Those yours?" I asked him.
"No, I don't have an office here." He set down his things and sat at the desk, hands folded neatly in front of him on the deskpad.
"But your colleague does?"
"Yes."
"Is he a priest?"
A slight pause. "Yes."
"Does he lead a vampire-hunting team?"
"He does not." He rolled his eyes, but there was no hesitation this time.
"So there is a vampire-hunting arm of the Catholic Church?"
"The Catholic Church takes your soul very seriously." His lip twitched and a surprising playful side appeared, if only for an instant.
"I can tell by the stories in the stained glass."
Libby cleared her throat. "We were discussing Kokabiel."
"Technically," I said, dropping into a chair, "we were avoiding talking about Kokabiel."
She ignored me and spoke to Cavanaugh. "Does your colleague know there are fallen angels in Sedona?"
He hesitated. "He doesn't know what they are--I haven't had a chance to tell him yet. He was convinced a creature was here, just not where. He suspected Sedona was its hunting ground."
"Did he tell his superiors?"
A longer pause this time. "No."
"Why not?" I asked. "Wouldn't they send reinforcements?"
"He wants to trap it ourselves."
"Trap it?" I laughed. It was ridiculous--and dangerous. "That's your plan?"
"He feels it's our best option," he said, but the tight white knuckles of his hands said otherwise.
"You honestly think you can grab this guy off the street?"
"He thinks with the right tools, it can be contained--"
I scoffed. "It can't."
"He feels--" Cavanaugh grunted and pushed both hands through his hair. "Fine, you're right, it's foolhardy, especially now, knowing what it really is, but Aaron thinks it's barely more than a clever animal."
Clearly he'd never met one face to face. "He's wrong."
"I know, but I've yet to convince him otherwise. He's been chasing them a lot longer and thinks he knows better."
"How much longer?"
"Eight years."
I looked at Libby, who shrugged. "Isn't there someone else you can approach?" she asked. "Who's in charge of this diocese?"
"No one who would believe Aaron. He...has a reputation." He shifted uncomfortably.
"As a crackpot?"
"I wouldn't go that far, but he gets...obsessive...about things."
Crackpot or not, he was here. Coincidence or plan? "Was he assigned to Sedona, or did he come here himself?"
"He's from Phoenix, but he took a sabbatical here, then asked to be assigned to St. Mary's."
"How long ago?"
"Four or five years I think."
The magic number again. "Did he follow Kokabiel here?"
"He followed something here. I don't think he knew what he was tracking. He would have told me."
"Like he'd told you about a vampire kidnapping?"
He narrowed his eyes. "He wanted to get my unbiased opinion about the case. He told me afterward."
I glanced at Libby. It was possible Cavanaugh's colleague had followed any one of Kokabiel's minions here. Daniel had been surprised Kokabiel had come after me personally, so it was likely he didn't get out much. This Aaron guy might not have known what he'd been following.
"Let us talk to your friend," I said. "We all have pieces of this puzzle, and the more we fit together, the more of the whole picture we'll see."
He glanced out the window at the ever-darkening sky. After a long pause, he sighed. "Why not? Maybe you can get through to him that we need help."
Chapter Nineteen
After a not-so-brief absence to announce us to his colleague and break the news, Cavanaugh led us to a slightly larger office with nicer furniture and a wall-spanning mirror on the front wall, facing the desk. The man sitting behind it checked our reflections as we walked in, but maintained a rigid stance despite our non-Pretty Boy verification. Old books and neat stacks of papers sat in piles around him. A clock behind him read half past eight.
I'd expected a wrinkled, brooding man with bushy eyebrows, but Cavanaugh's colleague was thirtyish, pleasant to look at with sandy-colored hair and bright--if suspicious--blue eyes. The black clerical shirt and white collar seemed out of place on a face that young.
"Father Aaron Dandridge," Cavanaugh said, "this is Grace Harper and Liberty Torres."
"Hey." I gave him a quick wave and a smile he did not return.
"Please sit down," Cavanaugh said softly, stepping into the aisle between us and the desk.
We sat. I waited a moment, but Dandridge stared at us as if he hadn't decided whether we were friend or foe.
"So," I began, breaking the ice, "fallen angels, that's just crazy, am I right?"
"It is." Dandridge glanced at Cavanaugh, his jaw tight. "What makes you think this Kokabiel is real?"
"I've met him."
"You met a man who called himself that." Not a question, a dismissive statement as if I were wrong.
"Excuse me? I know who and what I met. Not a man."
"You have no proof--"
"Let's take a step back." Cavanaugh leaned forward, both hands out between us. "Why don't we start with the missing persons cases in the area."
"Fi
ne." I crossed my arms and waited again, but either Dandridge was still reeling from the Kokabiel news or he wasn't happy about meeting with us. Probably both.
"Isn't missing people a bit outside the church's purview?" Libby asked, filling the awkward silence.
Dandridge shrugged. "The Church has been protecting souls from evil for millennia."
I glanced at Cavanaugh, then back to Dandridge. "It's not the souls I'm worried about. People are disappearing. Who knows how many have already been killed."
"The Church has this well in hand Miss Harper. Your assistance isn't needed."
"You get special training to fight supernatural strength and speed at seminary these days?" Libby kicked my ankle and I winced.
"They have no supernatural speed. They're marginally stronger than the physical bodies they inhabit," he said.
I blinked. "The what now?"
Pity flashed across Dandridge's face, and I felt like I'd just given the wrong answer in school. "They're not what you claim they are," he said, just shy of condescending.
"Really?" I shifted my ankles farther away from Libby. "What do you think they are?"
Cavanaugh cringed. Dandridge and I stared at each other like gamblers over a bad hand of poker, hoping the other would blink or fold. The awkward silence grew as Dandridge watched us, revealing nothing but an impressive skill at waiting.
Cavanaugh cleared his throat. "Demons," he said. "Aaron believes they're demonic spirits possessing human bodies."
Oh boy.
"Hate to break it to you, but they're really fallen angels."
Dandridge's shoulders tensed. "Whoever told you this is lying to you. The archangel Michael bound the fallen in the valleys of the earth. They're trapped."
I shrugged. "Guess they got out."
"Impossible." Dandridge waved a hand. "It's a few demons at most here to wreak havoc and spread evil in our world."
"By kidnapping specific people based on their blood?"
Doubt flickered across his face. "There's no definitive proof of that."
"Have you talked to Cavanaugh?" I pointed at him. "He's pretty convincing. Has a slide show and everything."
He looked away from Cavanaugh, who pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand.
"Arguing semantics isn't going to help anyone," Cavanaugh said. "Let's not let it distract us from what's important."
Dandridge nodded.
"We're all on the same side," Cavanaugh continued. "What we know for sure is that whatever Kokabiel is, he's taken people we want found. We can help each other if we work together. We should help each other."
Damn. Cavanaugh had a few more vertebrae in that backbone than I'd thought.
Dandridge glanced at his desk and shifted slightly in his chair. "Of course. Forgive me." He took a breath and turned to me. "Nate told me a demon's been hunting your family. My condolences."
Wariness still lurked in his tone, but he sounded more like a concerned priest than a defiant demon hunter.
"Since I was five." If Cavanaugh could put up with my crap for the greater good, I could suffer this crackpot.
Dandridge leaned forward, determination in his eyes. "Nate also said you believe that same demon is nesting in Sedona."
I doubted he'd used those words. I pictured feathered demons and nests made of human bones. "That's where the evidence led, yes. Multiple fallen angels working in secret in the Arizona mountains."
His cheek twitched. "You're an imaginative woman, Miss Harper."
"I am, thanks for noticing."
"Why are you actively searching for a creature so dangerous?"
"Why are you?"
"It's my job."
"Ah." I nodded slowly. "Saving our souls and all."
"Exactly."
"How's that working out?"
His frown deepened, but sadness lurked behind it. Libby kicked me in the ankle again, harder. I shot her a look. She could scowl all she wanted, but I knew liars. I saw one in the mirror every day.
"I know you don't believe me, Miss Harper, but this is a demon and it is deadly. If you persist, you're going to get yourself, your friend, and Nate killed," he said.
"I'm willing to take the risk," Cavanaugh said. "These people need our help."
"See?" I gestured toward him, palm up. "He's on our side. You come on board, too, and we have a decent shot at getting the missing people back."
"Not by going after it directly." He rubbed his eyes. "We must draw it out safely on our terms, not rush into its den. You claim you've met it, but you have no idea the danger you're both in."
"People keep telling me that, but I've fought them off twice in the last week."
I could practically hear Dandridge's teeth grind. "You can't fight off a demon."
"Done it. Twice." I held up two fingers for emphasis.
After a moment, Libby nodded. "I've seen her do it, Father."
Cavanaugh also nodded. "I was there when she fought off one in Florida."
"Impossible." His eyes narrowed and flicked toward the mirrors again. I'm sure some rather unpriestly thoughts were going through his mind.
I pulled out my knuckledusters and held them up. "Silver hurts them. So does holy water. Sunlight makes them very uncomfortable and they avoid it when possible. They can bleed. They can die. If you're the Van Helsing of the Catholic Church, then you should know this."
He huffed, eyes wide, and jerked back in his chair. "It's not that simple."
"Demon hunters kill demons. You know where some demons are. What's the problem? Why aren't you guys moving on this?" They were the freaking Catholic Church. If anyone had serious fangel-killing gear it was them.
"I told you, it hides among us. I know it's nesting nearby, but I don't know where to start looking to flush it out."
"All our evidence points to them being somewhere in the mountains past Boynton Canyon. With a few more bodies to help search, we can find the lair in no time."
"Matthew 24:26," he said. "Wherefore if they shall say unto you, Behold, he is in the desert; go not forth: behold, he is in the secret chambers; believe it not."
"Which means what exactly?"
Libby leaned forward. "That just because you say there are monsters in the desert, that doesn't mean there are monsters in the desert." She shrugged. "Paraphrasing."
"Even if you're right," Dandridge said, "we don't have the resources to search such a large area. It's too dangerous."
I clenched my hands. Cavanaugh's frustration made more sense now. "Fine. I know where one of their human minions works. We watch her, find out who she's giving her information to, follow that person back to his boss, and then go stake the whole Salem's lot of them."
"No, it's too dangerous." Dandridge leaned back, but kept his hands on the table. "The safest action is to draw it out so we can capture it on our terms. It'll come for you. It has before."
Hadn't he heard a word I'd said? "Four of them tried to snatch me off the street last night. They stop time. They have supernatural speed and strength. You can empty a full magazine of bullets into their chests and they keep on coming. You can't capture that."
"And let's all remember," Libby added, expression grim, "capturing one angel isn't the mission. Finding the missing people is. This is a rescue."
"Those people are already lost. We can't help them, much as I wish we could. Our only hope is to capture this demon and prove it exists so we can obtain the necessary resources to fight it properly. Rome will have to support my initiative once I have irrefutable proof."
Sonuva...I looked at Libby. She rolled her eyes. He wouldn't help us find our way out of the building let alone find Dad and the others.
Cavanaugh closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Aaron, I know you're struggling with this, but you have to believe them. We were wrong about so much."
"How can you take their side? They have no proof."
I shook my head. "You're an idiot."
"We done?" Libby asked, all trace of her priestly reverence gon
e.
"Hell yeah." This guy was useless. If he wasn't trying to stop the Pretty Boys, then why did he come here? For a snowball's chance to impress the Pope?
I rose, Libby right behind me.
"Wait!" Cavanaugh said.
"Let them go, Nate. They refuse to do what needs to be done for the good of all."
Cavanaugh chased us into the hall. "Ms. Harper, please..."
I'd been lucky to find an ally in Libby, willing to help despite how crazy it was--it was stupid of me to think I'd find another in Cavanaugh. Even stupider to think any of those movies had gotten it right.
"Stop, please! Aaron doesn't see the big picture. He gets caught up in one detail and has trouble letting go," he said, trailing after us. "He's never met one of them, so he doesn't understand."
I scoffed. "He's more interested in proving he's right to his bosses." Annoying as it had been, the morning wasn't a complete loss. We'd gotten some solid intel, filled our pistols with holy water, and soon as we got to the car, we'd fill what was in the trunk.
"He's not like that. He cares about--"
I stopped at the end of the hall, my hand inches from turning the doorknob and leaving. "You really want to help Anita Rosenberg and my father?"
"You know I do."
"All our evidence points to them being held in the Boynton Canyon area. Dandridge admits they're in Sedona, but he's too chicken to do anything about it." Four years tracked with what Louis had said about the missing hikers. Dandridge must have somehow figured out the connection. Damn. That was info I'd have liked to know, but that bridge was burning now.
Cavanaugh said nothing, but his left eye twitched.
"He'll come around once he has time to process it." Cavanaugh rubbed the back of his neck, his expression pained. "I've known Aaron for years. He's not going to let innocent people die if he can save them."
"And if he thinks he can't save them, then what?"
"I...I don't know."
"He'll do nothing. He's done nothing."
Cavanaugh looked at her, then back to me. "I can't believe--"
"We know generally where hikers have disappeared and have seen the unexplainable. If your cop friend in Florida can get me the security footage from last night, we might be able to learn where the fangels who attacked us last night left the main road, and narrow that search area down enough to actually help those people."
