Chapter 6 #3
“The Library Keepers harass you, but it’s been a while since you’ve gotten a call from the Mothership, hasn’t it?” Brent asked.
“Yeah, not that I missed them. I was hoping they finally caught the hint and gave up. Should have known better.” He knew Brent could hear the anger and bitterness in his voice.
“Unless Father Liam has a call list of prodigal priests and just happened to get to your name today, there’s got to be a reason why he’s making another effort now,” Brent said, employing the skills that made him such a good detective. “So…what’s changed?”
“As far as we know, just the angry ghosts and people killing hunters,” Travis replied. “I don’t follow insider Church politics, so if there’s a battle for the next Sinistram Cardinal position, I don’t know anything about it.”
Brent shook his head. “If there were, Liam wouldn’t call you about it.
There’s nothing you could do to change the course.
But what if it does have something to do with whatever’s hunting the hunters and provoking the ghosts and monsters?
What did he mean ‘the end is coming’? Is there any way, however wildly unlikely, that the trouble we’ve been investigating has some link back to the Sinistram? ”
Travis bit back an automatic negative and forced himself to think. “The Sinistram has always considered itself to be better than run-of-the-mill hunters because they’re priests and steeped in occult lore and have some sort of paranormal abilities.”
No matter that the group remained conflicted over whether those abilities were God-given or sinful, they used their magic to stop large supernatural dangers.
Travis also suspected that the priests weren’t above using their talents to influence decision-makers and affect the course of events to shape the outcome.
“They might not like the regular hunters, but there are too many angry ghosts and hungry monsters for the Sinistram to take them all on,” Brent said.
“These situations pop up all over the country and the world. There aren’t enough priests anywhere to take care of all of them, even if they quit doing weddings, christenings, and funerals. ”
“We’ve got to be missing something,” Travis fretted. “I guess that if no one protected people from ghosts and monsters, maybe people would be frightened into going back to church to save their souls, but that seems like a long shot.”
“They’d probably drink the liquor stores dry first,” Brent replied. “You can always make a deathbed confession, but getting a shot of whiskey in your last moments isn’t as easy.”
“Heathen.” Travis managed to joke despite the situation.
“Proudly.”
“I’m trying to think through all our contacts to see if anyone might have an inside track on what’s going on, and no one is coming to mind.” Travis knew he sounded as tired as he felt.
“We’re pretty well connected to the supernatural world, but not so much to the Vatican,” Brent said. “What about Father Anne?”
“She’s Episcopalian. So probably not.” Travis paused. “And before you ask, Father Pavel, Father Ryan, and Father Leo aren’t Sinistram, just regular priests. I don’t want to drag them into this. They won’t hear the gossip, and I won’t make them targets.”
“Fair enough,” Brent agreed.
“You know, the bruhaha with Sinistram and the whole issue with hunters being hunted might be completely unrelated,” Travis said.
Brent snorted. “When is anything in our lives simple like that?”
“As for his talk about ‘the end,’ that’s always been part of Sinistram lore,” Travis said.
“They actually believe there will be an apocalypse that will scour the world and burn it clean. Weirdly enough, they seem to look forward to it, although they’ve been watching for signs and omens since the Order was founded. So far, we’re all still here.”
They spent the rest of the drive talking about anything except priests and paranormal problems. It was after dark when he pulled up to Brent’s house.
“Hey, did you see that?” Brent craned his neck to look at the night sky through the windshield.
“See what?”
“Falling stars,” Brent said, pointing. “My grandmother always told me to make a wish.”
Travis crossed himself. “Mine told me to say a prayer against evil. I think I like your grandma better.”
Brent reached for the car door.
“Wait.” Travis put a hand on Brent’s arm. “Something’s wrong.”
Brent gave him a sharp look. “Wrong, how?”
Before Travis could answer, a body landed on the hood and windshield with a thud, and a young, blond man flashed a fanged smile at them.
“Like that.” Travis slammed the Crown Vic into reverse, but the vampire managed to hang on.
“Brace yourself,” Travis warned, going as fast in reverse as he dared on the side street. He swerved from side to side, hoping to dislodge the attacker, who held on despite everything.
“Holy shit.” Brent grabbed the armrest and planted his feet wide, ready for a crash.
Travis found an empty parking lot and floored it, steering into tight circles that would have broken a human’s grip. Nothing worked to shake their attacker.
Travis couldn’t imagine how it must look to bystanders, and he didn’t have time to worry about it.
“You’re in the way,” the vamp shouted through the windshield. “I was sent with a message. Back off.”
“Who sent you?” Brent shouted as Travis raced down side streets not intended for high speeds.
“God works in mysterious ways.” The vampire had a glint in his eyes like he was on a drugged blood high, and his predicament didn’t seem to worry him.
“Here goes nothing.” Travis sent them down Canton Avenue, the steepest street not just in Pittsburgh but in the entire United States, hoping gravity and speed would dislodge their unwelcome passenger. He swerved back and forth, glad it was one-way and that they were long after rush hour.
Travis steered to hit a pothole without reducing speed.
The jolt loosened the vampire’s grip, and the car cut hard to one side, sending him tumbling off.
For good measure, Travis ran him over, then slammed into reverse and did it again, making sure to spin the tires.
He didn’t know if that would destroy the vampire, but it certainly wouldn’t be pleasant.
“Did you just—” Brent stared in the rearview mirror to see the bloodied vampire stagger to his feet.
“Yeah.” Travis expected to feel the vampire slam into them from behind at any second and was ready for another attack. When that didn’t happen, he took a deep breath.
“Can’t kill a dead man, but I guess he decided not to go for round two.” Travis slowed the car and watched to make sure the cops hadn’t noticed them.
“Or maybe he delivered his message and was done.”
Travis slid a look toward Brent. “Meaning?”
“Sounds like he was sent. Who do we know who thinks they speak for God?”
“You think the Sinistram sent a vampire to warn us off?” Even as Trent said the words, something settled in his gut telling him it was true. “Why?”
Brent chewed his lip as he thought for a moment. Travis drove up and down streets randomly, making sure they had shaken their pursuer. “Who thinks even more highly of themselves than the Sinistram?” Brent said after a long pause.
“Vampires? Yeah, most of them are pretentious bastards with a few exceptions. But the Sinistram kills vampires.”
Brent turned to look at him. “What if there was some sort of alliance between apex predators, as it were? A business deal. Stop killing ours and we’ll stop killing yours.”
The possibility made Travis’s head spin. “That would be a big change. Huge. I can’t imagine getting it past Cardinal Vasylyk. He hates anything paranormal. And certainly not past the Vatican.”
“You’ve said many times that The Sinistram runs on lies and misdirection. How involved is the Cardinal in day-to-day affairs? Does he live in the US, or is he in Rome most of the time? It’s not like the vampires would have to be inside headquarters.” Brent ran with the possibilities.
“Let’s say you’re right.” Travis still grappled with the idea. “It would be a huge mission shift for a truce.”
“Maybe not just a truce,” Brent said. “Vampires are old. They know things. Some of them were witches and alchemists before being turned. Plenty of them gained fortunes and exerted political power over people they’ve bought off or put into thrall.
Money, inside knowledge, and power, exactly what the Sinistram lusts after. ”
Travis shuddered at the juxtaposition of “Sinistram” and “lust” since the leaders he met from the organization looked dour and cadaverous, far removed from the temptations of the flesh.
“Poor word choice?” Brent asked with a laugh, as if he guessed Travis’s thoughts.
“Yeah.” His mind whirred, looking for connections.
“I keep going back to how rough they were on me because of my abilities, even though they use the same magic and mediumship. The Church has an unfortunate history of lying when it suits its purposes. So, although collaborating with vampires is a total mind-fuck, it’s possible. ”
“Do you mind if I stay at St. Dismas again tonight?” Brent asked. “Just in case there’s another vamp back at mine.”
“Did you notice that’s where I’m heading? I kinda figured that.”
“Thanks.” Brent sounded rattled, and his leg jittered, a sure tell.
“You want to stop somewhere for a drink? No alcohol at St. Dismas, but you look like you could use one,” Travis offered.
“Sure. Pick a place. Should be random enough that no one expects us.”
Travis pulled up in front of a package store and waited in the car while Brent ran in and returned with a flask of Jack Daniels. He shook his head when Brent offered a nip.
“Can’t. Driving. Might need to run over another vamp or two.”
Brent’s chuckle didn’t reach his eyes. He knocked back a couple of long slugs and let out a satisfied breath. “That…helps.”
“You don’t have to drink the whole thing,” Travis said. “You can leave it in the glove compartment. Just can’t take it into the building.”
Brent wasn’t the only former soldier and monster hunter who had a complicated relationship with alcohol.
Travis worried, but he didn’t judge. The kind of trauma Brent survived losing Danny and his family to demons, only to encounter more demonic attacks on deployment, went far beyond what therapists and medications could temper.
Travis scanned for danger as he used voice-activation to call Jon. “I’m heading your way. Brent’s staying another night. We got jumped by a vampire at his house, but I ran over it. Need to go back in daylight and make sure there aren’t any other surprises.”
“Okaaaay.” Jon drew the word out, but took the comment in stride. Travis figured that was a testimony to how weird their lives were.
“Just to be safe, figure we’re on high alert,” Travis told him. “Anyone who comes in has to pass the tests. No one goes out. Activate the wards. I’ll shore them up when I get there. Make sure all the doors, windows, and vents are protected.”
“Not my first rodeo,” Jon assured him. “It’s been a slow night, so that’s good. How close are you?”
“About five minutes. As far as I can tell, we haven’t been followed. Although if we’re guessing right about who sent the vamps, they already know where I live,” Travis replied.
“That’s not reassuring at all,” Jon said. “Are either of you hurt? Matthew’s on standby.”
“For once, we’re okay. Although we’d have gotten a few more holes in us if that vampire hadn’t been so eager.
” Travis didn’t want to think about how things might have gone if the attacker had waited for him to drop Brent off and leave before revealing himself.
Brent could take care of himself in a fight against monsters, but being ambushed and not having the right set of weapons could change the odds dramatically.
Travis let out a sigh of relief when St. Dismas came into view.
Brent took another long pull from the flask, then obligingly stuffed it into the glove compartment.
Travis pulled the car into his reserved spot, which was well-lit and protected by magic and wards.
He glanced around but saw no one nearby.
“Let’s go.”
Brent grabbed his bag, and Travis locked the car. Jon was waiting for him at the door to usher them inside.
“Busy night?” he asked.
“You don’t know the half of it.” Travis still struggled with the attack and Sinistram’s possible betrayal. “We’ll fill you in tomorrow morning.”