Well, once-Shepherd. Now vampire Roland Haviar. Shepherd-pire.
I felt a phantom trickle of sweat roll down my spine at the chance they would sense his new changes despite the protective amulet tucked beneath his shirt. I shrugged my pack uneasily.
Roland bellowed at the two. “Crispin! Fabrizio! Where are your diapers?” he teased.
They rolled their eyes in unison. “You’re closer to diapers than we are, old man!” the smaller one, Crispin, teased. But he had glanced behind him to make sure that no priests were around before saying it.
I clapped my hands, laughing. The return banter had not only been funny, but had put me at ease. We were close enough for them to sense Roland if they had been able to. Crispin making an old man joke? The call of my people. Maybe they weren’t all as stuffy as Windsor.
At my outburst, the two Shepherds appraised me curiously, Crispin grinning in obvious appreciation. Not inappropriately leering, but a clean, wholesome look of admiration. I actually blushed, surprising myself as I took in the handsome blonde. Because even though he had a baby-face, his eyes were anything but innocent. They were playful, daring, and bold. Again, nothing creepy. Just a glimpse into his personality. He was the first to enter and the last to leave kind of guy. He smiled at me. “Crispin Voigt,” he introduced himself, dipping his head. Then he hesitated, his shoulders straightening as he glanced at Roland. “First Shepherd…”
He obviously felt uneasy saying this to Roland, and there could only be one reason why. But Roland only smiled. “You will make Constantine proud.” It wasn’t quite a compliment, and not quite a warning. A little of both.
Crispin nodded. “If I can’t, I’ll step down,” he promised. This seemed to satisfy Roland.
I turned to find Fabrizio staring at me, not looking impressed. He was bald and squat. His entire frame could be described as thick, and it wouldn’t have been offensive. He was just solid. But he did have a belly, and even though I could tell it wouldn’t hinder him, it was surprising to see on a Shepherd. This close, I noticed an emblem on his lapel – a white crucifix and a lightning bolt side by side. Crispin had the same emblem on his coat.
“Is it bring your daughter to work day?” he asked drily.
“Did you really meditate under a tree for seven days?” I asked without blinking, shrugging my backpack from my shoulders. I very dramatically tossed it to the side.
Chapter 26
Roland grinned excitedly.
Fabrizio’s forehead furrowed and I saw his fists flex at his side. At first, I took his response as anger, but I quickly realized that – even better – he hadn’t understood my reference. I leaned closer to Windsor, knowing he was already socially awkward, whispering loudly. “Buddha joke. I find it’s funnier when you have to explain it after,” I said before leaning back again.
His face flushed purple in an instant, and Roland took a very exaggerated step out of the way.
Windsor blinked at that, wondering why Roland would step aside to allow Fabrizio easy access to beat his student bloody rather than defend me from the seasoned Shepherd.
But Windsor just didn’t understand. Roland was stepping out of my way before he became collateral damage while I ruined Buddha’s day. If I was up for it. I had enough anger to fuel my confidence, though. I hoped.
Fabrizio was apparently smarter than the other Shepherds, because his eyes darted to Roland’s feet, picking up on the placement and recognizing the subtle shift that signified Roland’s opinion – I was the greater threat. His eyes darted to Roland’s face, looking momentarily stunned. Then he turned back to me, the color fading as a slow smile split his plump cheeks.
“Well,” he said, as if wanting to rectify the older Shepherd’s silent opinion.
I held out my hands and curtsied, never lowering my eyes from his.
Then he burst out laughing. “The stories about you must have some truth to them.”
He stomped towards me, not aggressively, but purposely. I waited until he was directly in front of me – within my bubble – where he stopped. He held out his arms. “Can I have a hug?”
I blinked, wondering if this was some sort of trick, but his face was devoid of any of the telltale tremors that might indicate his readiness to throw down. He looked entirely relaxed.
“I love hugs,” I said with a wide smile. I opened my arms and leaned my head towards his right shoulder in the universal hug gesture. Which meant I had a perfect view of his instep. I saw the subtle shift of his right foot and reacted instantly.
I gripped the sleeve of his shirt with my left hand as I stepped forward with my right foot, placing it beside his instep. I twisted my entire body as I lunged, my right arm wrapping around the left side of his significant waist. I slammed my hips below his belt near his upper thighs as I dipped down into a slight squat. Despite his massive size advantage, the sudden power of my hip striking below his center of gravity rocked his balance minutely.
This left me in a very odd-looking position – my ass pressed against his groin and my body huddled low as his upper body loomed over me. All he had to do was fall forward to squash me to death with a Pillsbury Doughboy giggle for good measure.
At least that’s what it looked like. But I wasn’t a victim here.
I was a fulcrum. I suddenly heard Whispers cackling in my mind, and idly wondered why. This wasn’t magic, just hand-to-hand combat. I ignored them.
I exploded up, straightening my legs as I jerked his shoulder forward and spun his body over my back in the hip toss motion Roland had made me perfect so long ago. Knowing the size disadvantages that I would face over the years, he had focused on these types of movements before all else. Before I even looked at a blade or a weapon.
His legs flew straight up over his head as I slammed him down before me. Rather than ride him down to the ground, I released him. His shoulders hit first as he flipped upside down, followed by his legs slamming into the earth, his own weight and size used against him.
His breath left his body in a rush and he wheezed for a few moments, staring up at me in disbelief. It wasn’t that he didn’t know the move, but that he had likely forgotten it decades ago, never having to use it because he never encountered someone bigger than him.
He finally emitted a low, belly laugh, shaking his head in wonder. Soon he was belting out, the basso sound echoing off the nearby building. I held out a hand, offering to help him up.
He stared at it. “Now that was a hip toss, girlie!”
I scowled back at him. “Call me girlie again and I’ll show you the second move I learned ten years ago, Fabio.” His eyes instinctively darkened and I knew I had scored a direct hit. “We can continue the trip down memory lane until my name penetrates your thick skull. Callie Penrose.”
He chuckled even harder, holding his hands out in an I surrender gesture. I nodded and then pulled him to his feet, not as graceful as I would have liked, because he hadn’t helped as much as he could have, a subtle ego boost to ease his damaged pride.
Crispin was shaking his head, grinning from ear-to-ear. Windsor looked at a loss for words.
It wasn’t that these men didn’t know how to fight, it was that arrogance – as it usually did – had convinced them to underestimate me. They were used to being the big kids on the block, their title scaring monsters into hiding. They had forgotten what it was like to be hungry, needing to prove oneself on a regular basis.
And hungry people usually won.
Fabrizio scooped up my backpack, handing it to me before he wrapped a beefy arm around my shoulders, jostling me playfully as he grinned at the others. “Everyone, I would like you to meet my new best friend, Girlie Penflower.” He instantly jumped back a step, dodging my elbow to his ribs with a chuckle. “But you can’t call her that. Everyone else must call her Callie Penrose,” he told them in mock seriousness.
I found myself smiling back at him. Then I shrugged. “I’ll allow it, Buddha.” He liked that better than Fabio, so I stuck with it.
&
nbsp; He chuckled and then spit in his palm, extending it my way. “Fabrizio Donati.” I did the same and we slapped skin, doing the testosterone shuffle that was common between two warriors.
Roland cleared his throat, striding up to Crispin. “As fun as it is to watch my student beat up the boys, I’m fairly used to it by now. Windsor made it sound like there was some urgency…”
Crispin nodded, placing an arm around Roland’s shoulders in welcome. “You must mean Master Temple requesting an audience. Windsor texted us to wait for him, but didn’t tell us why. Master Temple said he knew you, Callie.”
I rolled my eyes at their mention of Nate, but on a distant level I was curious why Windsor hadn’t warned these two ahead of time. For fun? Or some other reason? “You’ll find that like most boys, Nate exaggerates.” My familiarity with his name confirmed that I did know him, but that I wasn’t pleased to be judged by this act. I needed to establish distance between Nate and I. Because I knew one thing.
If Nate Temple was here, the Conclave was about to have a very bad day. Nate was as tactful as a bull in a china shop, and if he wanted an audience, it couldn’t be good. For the Shepherds.
The three Shepherds smiled, anticipating a lover’s spat from my tone.
“Girlie, you can come back to Rome anytime. This might be the most fun we’ve had in years.” Crispin and Windsor nodded their agreement, but I could tell that they were more reserved than Fabrizio. Sure, they could all joke around with each other, but I saw their game faces slowly shifting into place.
I glanced at Fabrizio. “Let’s just hope that my next trip won’t be for a funeral.”
His face tightened, realizing how his words may have sounded. He made the cross over his chest and then strode ahead of me, wrapping Roland in a big hug. Roland rolled his eyes but hugged back. Then Fabrizio grasped the doors with Crispin. Roland and Windsor stepped up beside me as they opened the doors and we entered the mouth of the Holy Shed.
Before I left, I was determined to make that name stick.
Chapter 27
We entered the building to find ourselves in what felt like a large museum. Gilded columns rose up to the ceiling twenty feet above our heads, creating what felt like an open hallway leading to two sets of doors at the end of the building. Hallways branched off on either side of us, but we marched forward, our footsteps echoing. I saw two more hard-looking men waiting at the door, but they didn’t look as playful. They looked more like Roland. Like they had read the Old Testament a dozen times more than entirely necessary.
I wisely didn’t ask them to confirm this.
Without a word – although they did dip their heads respectfully at Roland – they opened the doors for us. I heard Fabrizio and Crispin speak a few words to them before following us inside. This room felt more like a courtroom mixed with a church. But that could have just been because seven old men were seated in a row at the end of the large room, like Supreme Court Justices. They all wore robes in different designs and colors, but all seemed somewhat uniform at the same time. Did that mean this wasn’t their only obligation? Saving the world from monsters was just a hobby of theirs? Or was it to help them blend in with the other members of the Church? The men themselves varied in about every way imaginable, other than the fact that they were all balding or had thin patches of white hair. One was black, another was Asian, but the rest were old white dudes.
Other than the sense of raw power radiating from them, like an electric fence of magic, they were entirely unremarkable. But they all had the same pin as the Shepherds and a milky white film over their eyes.
I frowned, then shot Roland a sharp glance. He nodded very slowly.
I turned back to them, trying to hide my shock. Then I realized it wasn’t necessary to hide my emotion. The entire Conclave was blind. Literally. And they were searching for a murderer.
Sweet, baby Jesus.
It was obvious that we had interrupted them, because the Conclave looked on the verge of shouting. The source of their ire was obvious. I studied the two much younger men standing before them, where a lawyer would state his case to the judge and jury.
Nate Temple was handsome, and even staring down seven powerful wizards, an easy sense of authority rolled over his shoulders like a cape. His hair looked darker than when I had last seen him, but I knew it shifted from lighter to darker with the seasons. He claimed to be a dirty blonde – and maybe at one point he had been – but his hair had always leaned more towards brown in my opinion.
His pal was Alucard Morningstar. He was a Daywalker Master Vampire, but had no ties to the vampire nation as far as I knew. He stood before the Conclave, shoulders erect, and face blank. He had long dark hair, and reminded me of a romance novel cover model. He also spoke with a faint Southern drawl, which flat did me in.
A vampire was standing on Vatican grounds with seven angry wizards and a handful of warrior priests. I almost flinched to see that he was clutching a Bible. Roland’s shoulders shook, and I prayed he wouldn’t do anything stupid. Inwardly, my mind raced. Alucard was unique, a Daywalker, but did this mean that he also had an amulet, or had he found a way to handle religious items? Hope shone in Roland’s eyes.
I regained control, thinking furiously. Neither looked properly humbled before the Conclave.
The old men looked pious, official, and highly annoyed at this strange pair before them. Even blind, their disdain was impressive, as if they could somehow sense Nate’s arrogance.
The man sitting in the center of the line of wizards opened his mouth to speak, but cutoff abruptly as Nate turned his back on them to smile at me. Maybe they weren’t entirely blind.
“Hey, Callie. Imagine seeing you here.” Nate’s green eyes sparkled playfully.
I couldn’t help but smile back, even though I wasn’t pleased to see him here in the middle of my mess, making it messier. “Hey, Nate.” I turned to Alucard with a warm smile. “Good to see you, too, Alucard. You let him drag you into this?” I asked, smiling.
He flashed me a grin, nodding in resignation. “As usual. Never been here before.”
I didn’t let anything show, but alarm bells were going off in my head. I could sense that Roland was unnaturally still. He knew Alucard was a vampire.
As if on cue, Alucard casually sniffed the air. It was so subtle that only Roland and I noticed it. Did he sense Roland? Or was it something else? Maybe he sensed the murderer nearby? Blood still on his hands or something? Or an increased pulse somewhere, which could mean anything.
But it brought everything back into stark clarity. One of the Shepherds had been murdered, and it was highly likely that someone in this room knew the truth – possibly one of the other Shepherds. After all, they worked for the Conclave, and if the Conclave gave one of them a command to kill their fellow Shepherd, what trumped that?
Was faith or loyalty more important to these men?
I realized I was standing in a crowd of wolves, and that the blind sheep on the dais were calling the shots. I didn’t let anything show on my face as I turned back to Nate. “What are you doing here?” I asked casually, but my eyes warned him to flee.
The center man in the Conclave coughed loudly. He was taller and thinner than his cohorts. “We can handle this from here, Miss Penrose,” he said with a commanding glare. His crosshairs were slightly above and to the left of my face. I forced myself not to laugh.
Nate ignored him and Alucard let out a suffering sigh, as if making peace with his life up to this point. “I already told you. I wanted to introduce you to Alucard. He’s my friendly neighborhood vampire pal. This monster is better than most humans I know.” The threat in his voice was crystal clear as he indicated the Bible in Alucard’s hands. The other Shepherds took notice for the first time and their jaws dropped in disbelief.
But why had Nate found it necessary to make a trip for that? My pulse quickened as he continued to watch me, eyes trying to comfort me for some reason. “My second course of action is to make a hefty donation to your book
club,” he said with an easy shrug. “Like I told you in the beginning, Roland takes exceptional care of Kansas City.” His eyes included my efforts, but he was smart enough not to mention that here. “I want to offer aid to his cause. But I want his opinion on where my donation should go,” he added, staring straight at Roland.
Roland locked eyes with Nate, silently wondering what game the billionaire was playing. I briefly wondered why Nate hadn’t just offered the donation to Roland in Kansas City, but as I thought about it I found myself nodding proudly. Doing it here, in front of Roland’s bosses would offer a compliment that couldn’t be ignored. Handing the money directly to Roland might have raised suspicions from the Conclave, but appearing here to treat it like an award?
At any other time, I would have called it a stroke of genius. But right now? He had just drawn a big assed bullseye on our backs. At a time when we were trying to remain incognito. Damn it, Nate… I thought to myself.
The other Shepherds were staring at Roland, frowning. Then their eyes shifted to Crispin, but he was looking to the Conclave, reading their faces. The Conclave was grumbling to themselves, but Nate wasn’t paying attention to them. Well, they probably didn’t even see his attention.
This was the most ridiculous thing I had ever witnessed. A blind Conclave?
Roland finally dipped his head at Nate in gratitude, and then pointed at Crispin. “He leads us. I trust his judgment, but I will offer my advice.” Nate finally turned to Crispin and gave him a friendly nod, the matter settled in his eyes. The Conclave hadn’t even noticed the exchange.
Whispers: Feathers and Fire Book 3 Page 13
