Whispers: Feathers and Fire Book 3

by Shayne Silvers

  The other option was Shadow Walking – where I imagined a place in my mind and instead of connecting that place to my current location, I ripped my own body to that new location.

  Sounds horrifyingly dangerous, but apparently it wasn’t.

  But Roland liked to give me crap about being lazy as often as possible. Power corrupts, idle hands are the Devil’s workshop, blah, blah, blah.

  I rolled my eyes at the imagined response from my mentor. “Two feet have carried me this far in life, and relying too much on easy solutions taints the soul,” I said in my best impersonation.

  “I don’t sound like that, Callie,” a voice growled from a dark corner of the training room. I flinched, jumping back two steps to find my mentor staring at me, his eyes reflecting the candle light beside him. He’d been meditating.

  The Vatican Shepherd unfolded from his crouch, rubbed his hands together, and then walked my way. I blinked at him, remembering the time. “The Early Bird Special keeps getting earlier and earlier,” I mused.

  He rolled his eyes with a patient sigh. “I’m not that old, Callie. Not yet.”

  “Well, what the hell are you doing up? I had this whole plan to dump holy water on you while you slept…” I complained.

  “I thought you were in Alaska? Make too many jokes with Armor and he chased you out?”

  I grunted, sobering up. “No. But I do need to talk to you about something…” This wasn’t going to be fun. Not just what I had seen but forgotten in the vision, but telling him that I had taken drugs. It almost felt like admitting it to my dad.

  I let it all out in a rush. “I smoked some shifter reefer and saw something so scary that I forgot it all. Or my mind locked it away. And I just threatened an Angel after he abducted me. Have you ever heard of the Whispers?”

  He blinked at me. He opened his mouth and then closed it. Then he shook his head, muttering as he ran his hand across his scalp, which was buzzed close to the skin. He looked as if I had just shit on his already shitty day. “I… need my coffee. But first I need to show you something.” He turned his back on me and began walking from the training room towards the utility room behind it. He shifted a loose brick on the wall and a keypad slid out. He placed a thumb on it and the entire wall shifted back, revealing a rickety service elevator. I stared at him, frowning at his unexpected reaction, but finally followed. This couldn’t be good.

  He blindly reached out to snatch up a thermos from a side table, and began guzzling it as he stepped into the elevator, holding it open for me with his other hand. He lowered the thermos as I joined him, wiped his mouth and cleared his throat. I didn’t smell any scotch in the air, but he had tossed back the thermos as if it was last call before a tour in Iraq. I noticed that his eyes were bloodshot and frowned. Was he drunk or just exhausted?

  He leaned forward and typed in a code, concealing it from my view because he knew me so well. I averted my eyes innocently, troubled by his demeanor. I’d never seen him use a code on the elevator before. Was he taking me to one of the restricted levels? One of the levels so secret that even after over ten years training with him I hadn’t been allowed to see? Was that where he stored his Manna from Heaven, his Biblical Brew?

  Coupled with his bloodshot eyes and his sudden caffeine addiction, I felt a very uneasy sensation in the pit of my stomach. Did his choice to let me finally see these floors have anything to do with what I’d told him? Maybe one of the floors was a rehab clinic where he was going to detox me with holy water, washing out the sin from my system.

  Like that would be possible.

  He’d need a helluva lot of holy water to do the trick.

  I watched the stone wall ahead of us as the cage-like elevator descended, counting the doors we passed by. We passed three levels, and I had no idea what they contained. We stopped one floor above the dungeon – the lowest floor I was aware of – and my arms pebbled with anticipation as Roland heaved the door up, the metal squeaking and shuddering like an old storage unit. This was going to be super cool. I just knew it.

  I followed him into a stone hallway, wondering what amazing sights I was about to witness.

  My excitement began to die after five minutes of walking through a stone hallway. We finally exited the cramped tunnel and I gasped in astonishment, staring up at a vast stone cavern. Hundreds of doors hung on chains from the ceiling, all different colors and styles – some of stone, wood, glass, metal, and made in just as many patterns. Each was entirely unique. Some looked to belong to castles, some to homes, even one that was just a curtain of beads. Some of the doors spun in lazy rotations from their individual chains, others were entirely still. There were no torches, but the cavern had an ambient glow to it. Either that or I just couldn’t see the recessed lighting. But I was pretty sure it was magic because this place didn’t look remotely modern. Well, other than some of the more expensive doors.

  I turned to find Roland studying me. “You needed to see this place,” he said in a low tone, almost sounding regretful.

  I frowned. “Why now?” I asked uncertainly.

  He tapped his lip absently, eyes a million miles away. He finally let out a deep breath. “A Shepherd was murdered in Rome.”

  I gasped, one hand instinctively rushing to my chest. “What?” Shepherds were badasses of the highest order. They trained for dozens of years – in their faith, their magic, and their bodies. They were the supernatural military arm of the Vatican Church, hunting monsters, demons, and anything else that God wasn’t a fan of. Or, more accurately, that the Pope and his Cardinals weren’t a fan of.

  He nodded grimly. “I only just heard. It’s why I was awake. Planning my trip to Rome.”

  “Well, let’s fucking go! Let’s Shadow Walk!” I said anxiously, mind racing at the thought of what or who could take down a Shepherd. They weren’t invincible, but they were tough to kill. Extremely tough. Let’s just say that only a dozen Shepherds were required to take care of the entire world. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to go. I had good reasons to skip town right now. Angel wouldn’t be pleased at my exit.

  Roland was shaking his head. “Shadow Walking is not permitted. At least not into the Vatican. Sure, we could arrive outside of town and then travel in, but it’s frowned upon.”

  I blinked incredulously. “Well, I’m not too concerned about making a few old men frown,” I argued. “One of your friends was just killed. We need to find out what’s going on, right?”

  Roland nodded at my last question, but held up a hand, stalling me. “The trip to Rome is considered a penance. One must travel there in contemplation, accepting the gravitas of the situation. It’s why we don’t Shadow Walk or make a Gateway. Also, the wards prevent direct entry – to keep the Vatican safe from attack.”

  “Well, consider my gravitas full. I think we can bend a few rules under the circumstances.”

  He sighed wearily, not completely convinced. “Perhaps.”

  I studied him. He wasn’t telling me everything. And he had chosen to show me this strange room when he could have simply explained everything upstairs. I glanced back at all the doors hanging above us like bird cages. “What are these, Roland? And if time is of the essence, why are we here rather than getting on a plane or whatever ridiculousness you were planning?”

  He cleared his throat. “You needed to see this,” he said, holding out his hand. “For the day that I may not be here any longer. You need—”

  I plugged my ears. “Nope. Not listening to that nonsense. One, because you aren’t dying. Two, because I don’t want to be a Shepherd. I’m not like you. I don’t follow rules well. You know this, Roland. I don’t know how many times I have to explain it. Our motives are different, even if our means align. I don’t want monsters running amok, but I’m not doing it so that God can sleep better at night. And I’m especially not doing it for the Vatican. Have you forgotten that one of them betrayed us?” I said icily. “Almost getting us both killed.” Another thought hit me. “Wait, the dead Shepherd�
�” he winced at my callousness, and I felt momentarily guilty before pressing on. “Do you think he was betrayed like we were? That there might be another mole?”

  Roland… hesitated. I sucked in a breath of disbelief. He saw the look on my face and began shaking his head urgently. “I am not ruling it out, but after the last mole, they went through rigid security checks on all personnel. I don’t see how…”

  “Never discount the foolhardiness of a bureaucracy,” I said angrily.

  His shoulders tensed instinctively, but he finally sighed. “I’m considering that avenue, don’t worry. But none of my compatriots will hear it.” He turned back to the doors. “Regardless of your beliefs, Callie, you are a Shepherd in training. Unorthodox, sure, but you’re tied to the Church whether you want it or not. They don’t let go easily.”

  “We’ll see about that,” I muttered.

  Roland rounded on me, actually taking a step closer. “Grow up, girl,” he warned, face reddening. That made me slow down. Not his anger, but that there might actually be some truth to his words. Me being stubborn wasn’t helping anything. He was trying to show me something important to him. We could debate semantics later.

  “Fine, old man. But if I need to grow up, you need to bring your ass to the modern age. Taking a horse and buggy to Rome won’t help anyone. Just because something has always been done a certain way doesn’t mean it should continue. The demons and bad guys know this. I think the Shepherds should stop reminiscing and wake the fuck up.”

  Roland didn’t like that one bit.

  Chapter 13

  His hand instinctively went to the sword on his hip. He was panting, glaring at me with barely restrained rage. An instinctive reaction to attacking his cause. I squared my shoulders and returned his glare. He finally released the hilt and let out a breath. Not apologizing, but backing down. “You… are right,” he finally admitted. I nodded neutrally, not wanting to press him further. I had stated my case. The rest was up to him. If the Shepherds didn’t evolve, they weren’t going to last long. Which was probably why he constantly peppered me to join. New blood. A different perspective. The Shepherds needed fresh ideas.

  I was especially leery of their interest since they were apparently down one man, now.

  But that wasn’t going to happen. Just like with Angel, I wouldn’t be backed into a corner.

  “So, the doors…” I offered, changing the topic, my mind racing with plans. I had never been to the Vatican, and wasn’t sure how I felt about going. Especially under these circumstances.

  He nodded. “They are doorways to other places, countries, and realms. Some accessible, most not. Over time, we have lost the ability to use many.” He pointed at one particular door, which was a charred mass of carbon. “Others had a welcoming committee on the other side,” he added drily.

  I blinked, taking in the hundreds of doors. Then I frowned at him. “Well, which one do we need, and why am I just now hearing about them? Shouldn’t we be hurrying?”

  “I just told you why. They’re unpredictable.” He had ignored my last question. Why?

  “And you just have a bunch of entrances to other places hanging around beneath Kansas City…” I said, hoping he caught my tone.

  “We have many such repositories in the world. At the other ends of the doors.”

  I felt an instinctive shiver, suddenly realizing why the floor had been locked up from me. If we could use the doors, so could others, giving them a back entrance into our compound. I rounded on Roland to find him watching me. He nodded, reading my panic. “Exactly right.” He extended a hand up high to reveal several doors wrapped in glowing, golden chains, prevented from opening. They were so high up I hadn’t noticed them. Then he pointed at the floor, where large runes were carved into the stone. I frowned, walking closer to inspect them. They looked like Enochian script – the language of Angels. Powerful stuff. “For the most part, these keep us safe. Also, the hallway has wards to prevent unadmitted access. I had to get approval for you to use it, otherwise you would still be sobbing on the floor near the elevator.”

  I blinked, surprised. “Oh…” I scanned the doors and realized quite a few of them were chained up, although not as heavily as others. A few even sported glowing golden locks. Looking closer, I saw that golden crosses adorned the chains and locks. “Why are you showing me now?”

  “Because we will be using them shortly. To get to the Vatican. There is a trial, and a hearing.”

  I frowned. “A trial and a hearing? They already caught the murderer?” Was that why we hadn’t left yet?

  He looked entirely uncomfortable for a few moments. “The two wolves we saved from the rapists. Jasmine and Tiffany. They were found at the scene.” He met my eyes warily, but my mind was reeling. The two rape victims had killed a Shepherd? “But the hearing is for you…”

  My brain fizzled, overloaded by his last statement. I held up my hands, taking a step back, forgetting all about the wolves. “No, Roland. I’m not going to the Vatican to be questioned. I don’t work for them.”

  Roland began ticking off fingers, not looking pleased with himself, but simply stating the facts. “You have lived, trained, and studied with me for over a decade, accepting the Vatican’s resources and paychecks. By default – common law, if you will – you are an extension of the church, and therefore fall under their jurisdiction. Whether you want to become a Shepherd or not. You owe them a hearing.”

  My vision throbbed both in fear and anger. “On what? I haven’t done anything wrong!”

  He blinked. “It’s not a trial, Callie. It’s a hearing. They want to meet you. And likely to ask about the Spear of Longinus…” he said carefully.

  I grimaced. “Well… that’s not good. Do they know about it?”

  Roland looked very torn at that, but didn’t hesitate as he shook his head. “They do not.” He was internally bothered that he hadn’t told his superiors the full truth. A mole had sold us out to the demons, and he hadn’t wanted to risk them learning about it. But it was still a lie, and Roland was not big on deceit, especially to the Vatican.

  The Spear of Longinus – the blade that had pierced Jesus Christ’s side during the crucifixion.

  It all started when a demon named Johnathan decided that he would use the three broken pieces of the Spear – that should have been locked up in the Vatican – to lure me out of hiding. My birth parents had pissed him off at some point, and he had spent twenty years searching for yours truly, unbeknownst to me. I had beaten him, but the Spear had disappeared. His pal, Amira, had come at me with a vengeance after that. In some alternate dimension – or a dream – I had met her, and she had pointed down at my hand, which held the three pieces of the Spear, reforged into one whole again. It was still damaged, weakened by rings of darkness where the pieces connected, but I was holding it like it belonged to me.

  When I woke, the Spear was gone. I had killed her, but was nowhere closer to accessing the Spear again. It was locked away inside me. Roland and I had tried numerous times, in numerous ways, to call it forth, but had so far been unsuccessful.

  “They are wondering where Amira could have hidden it if she took it after Johnathan’s death, and why we haven’t found it yet, since you killed her.”

  “So, it is a trial…” I spat. “I find the timing particularly coincidental,” I said in a flat tone.

  He shook his head. “An inquiry. A hearing.”

  “You can church it up as much as you want, but slapping lipstick on a pig doesn’t make it a whore.”

  He blinked, and then as if forced, he burst out laughing. The unexpected sound echoed around us and I realized I was smiling. He had needed that. A genuine laugh. “We’ll need to work on your delivery before we address Mass,” he finally said, wiping a tear from his eyes.

  I sighed. “This is going to suck, isn’t it?” He nodded. “What about the two wolves?” I asked, remembering his other news. “Do you really think they killed him? Why would they do that? The Shepherds were helping t
hem recover from their trauma.”

  He looked concerned. “They were found injured beside the body. As if there had been a fight. We leave in a few hours,” he said, eyeing the doors warily.

  I felt my stomach drop out and splat onto the floor. “Well, shit.”

  “Shit, indeed,” Roland agreed, still looking concerned about the two women in Italy. He was practically a veteran sailor with his newfound gift of cursing. This wasn’t good.

  But if we were leaving tomorrow morning, we had another problem, and it was obvious that Roland had completely forgotten about it in his fear for the girls.

  We had an appointment with Haven, Master Vampire of Kansas City tomorrow night.

  Chapter 14

  Without another word, he led me back towards the elevator. I took one last glance at the suspended doors before the tunnel swallowed us back up. I tried to sense the wards Roland had mentioned, but felt nothing. I wondered how I had been granted access without Roland doing any magic on me. Then I stumbled. Did… the Vatican have some essence of myself – hair, blood, nail clippings? I eyed the large man’s back as I thought. It made sense. In a very creepy, Big Brother kind of way.

  I scanned the walls, not trying to sense the wards reacting to me but just feeling out the wards in general – maybe spot a marking carved into the stone. But I saw nothing. Whispers called out to me and I spun. Roland paused, frowning at the alarm on my face. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  I stared at him, listening as the sounds faded. I suppressed a shiver and shook my head. I hadn’t been able to make anything out. Just faint whispering sounds. I didn’t want to add more to Roland’s plate, so let it go, but inside I was terrified.

  What the hell was happening to me?

  “So, the Vatican has a piece of me,” I said out loud, my voice echoing in the tunnel.