Chapter 16
Chapter
Sixteen
CIARAN
“So, I was thinking,” Beau said, chewing on his bottom lip. He was clearly nervous, but he tried to smile. “And it’s just an idea. You can say no if you want, obviously.”
Ciaran’s interest was piqued. “What is it?”
“The old building,” he said, nodding down past the police station. “I dunno if it was a church at some stage. Like, a hundred years ago, probably. But I was thinking I could maybe do it up a bit.”
Oh. This surprised Ciaran. “You want to build a church?”
He blinked in surprised horror. “Oh god no.”
Sawyer snorted, making both men look at him. “Sorry. Keep talking.”
“I was thinking,” Beau said, the corner of his mouth pulling down. “You can just tell me if I’m overstepping. I’m still new here, but—”
“Beau,” Ciaran said. “Just say it.”
“I was thinking we could turn it into a school.” He made a face. “Well, maybe a pre-school to start with. For the little ones. We can get desks and a whiteboard and make it a fun learning space where we can have classes and lessons. Maybe add a play area.” He shrugged. “It was just an idea....”
Sawyer came over and took hold of Beau’s arm. “This is the best idea ever in the history of ideas. Oh, we are so doing this. Let’s go take a look and see what it needs. Starting with a good clean, I’m guessing—”
Sawyer tried to coax Beau in the direction of the old church, but Beau stopped, looking at Ciaran for approval. “Uh...”
Sawyer waved his hand. “Of course Ciaran agrees. He’s the biggest softie here.”
Beau’s eyes widened at that. “He’s the leader,” he mumbled. “You can’t say that.”
Sawyer snorted, but when Ciaran narrowed his gaze at him, Sawyer sighed.
“Fine, yes, he’s the leader, and we love and respect him for that, and I’m sorry your last leader was a dick, but Ciaran’s the bestest, most reasonable, and generous leader ever, and of course he thinks building a school for the babies is the best idea ever. ”
Beau made an awkward face. “Sawyer, are you okay?”
“Nope,” he said, almost cheerfully. “I’m woefully human. Can’t help at all because I have stupid lungs and a stupid arm and—”
Ciaran groaned, quickly collecting Sawyer in a fierce hug. “You’re not helpless.”
“I am,” he mumbled into Ciaran’s chest. “I need to do something. Something constructive. Something to help.”
“Then let’s go take a look at the new school,” he murmured, pressing a kiss into the side of Sawyer’s head. He looked over at Beau and mouthed, “Thank you.” He rubbed Sawyer’s back and led him toward the door. “It’s a great idea.”
The old church sat at the end of Bay Road like a forgotten thing, an old wooden cross on the rusted tin roof leaning slightly toward the grey sky.
Rain and wind from the last century or so had peeled at the paint, warped a few planks, and the cement steps at the front door were covered in moss and neglect.
Ciaran shoved the heavy door open first. It dragged across the floorboards with a long, aching scrape.
“Well,” Sawyer muttered behind him, “that sounds healthy.”
Dust stirred in the dim light. The church smelled of damp timber, cold earth, and years of neglect. Two long pews sat crooked against one wall, and fractured light spilled through cracked windows onto the wooden floor.
Beau stepped inside last, sniffing the air. “Could be worse.”
Ciaran glanced up at the sagging rafter at the far end of the church. “Could it?”
Sawyer ignored them both, already walking slowly to the front stage. His boots echoed through the hollow building. He stopped near the discarded altar and turned in a slow circle, studying the room with narrowed eyes. “It’s got good bones,” he said.
Ciaran barked a laugh. “A renovator’s delight.”
Beau wandered toward one of the windows and brushed dust from the sill with his fingers. “It could be good, though.”
“It could be perfect,” Sawyer said. “Bookshelves along the side walls, maybe. Big stove in the back for winter. Desks here near the front.”
Outside, rain began to drum the tin roof, and the three of them looked around at the possibilities.
Silence settled with the dust for a moment, but Ciaran found himself watching Sawyer. He needed to feel productive and helpful, and Ciaran understood that. He actually loved that Sawyer wanted to feel a part of their consortium.
He never wanted Sawyer to lose his humanity, but he also wished Sawyer didn’t feel so estranged, so outside the group.
Ciaran ran a hand over the back of a pew, collecting the dust on his fingers. “I think it could be perfect too,” he said, looking at Sawyer when he said that. “A great project. I wish I’d thought of it.”
Sawyer smiled at him, then winked at Beau. “See? A big softie.”
Ciaran rolled his eyes and walked toward the pulpit, if it could be called that. It was more of a lectern, no more than a tall rudimentary wooden stand, built with good intentions, worn with age. “I’m surprised the folk that lived here didn’t use this for firewood,” he said. “Or the pews.”
“Wouldn’t that be a sacrilege?” Sawyer asked. “To a religious person, that is.”
“Probably.” Beau nodded slowly, looking at the pulpit. “The wood still looks sound. We could make it into a teacher’s desk, or something.”
As Beau and Sawyer discussed plans and possibilities, Ciaran couldn’t help but smile.
It was such a great idea, now he could see their vision.
No matter how long the hatchlings were school-aged for, or if Pania and Otis one day decided to have their own family, making the old church into a school, was making Tenebrae their community.
This was their future. For the next generation. And that made Ciaran as proud as proud could be.
Then a sudden drip echoed from somewhere overhead. All three men looked upward. Another drip followed, and another.
Sawyer pointed toward where the far wall met the ceiling, where a stream of water ran down to the windowsill. “Oh no.”
But Ciaran was smiling now—not because the church was perfect, but because he could already see beyond what it was.
Fresh paint on the walls. Desks arranged across the refinished floor and pictures on the walls. Warm firelight in winter. Children’s voices and laughter where silence had lived too long.
Ciaran could see it now.
“We’ll need new tin on that end of the roof,” he said. “And that window should be replaced.”
“I can handle the windows,” Sawyer offered.
Beau smiled. “I can do the roof.”
Then Ciaran clapped his hands together. “Then let’s do it.”
Sawyer gave him an excited hug. “I can’t wait to tell Aurin and Salem!”
“How about we keep it a surprise for now,” Ciaran suggested gently. “We don’t want to overwhelm them.”
“They will love it.” Sawyer said, grinning excitedly. Then he stopped. “Tell me, when do cephamorph hatchlings first morph into human form? Like, how much time do we have?”
Ciaran made a face. “Not for a little while yet. Kellan might have a better understanding, though he did say they’d grown even overnight.
One day old, and they’re ahead of the usual milestone markers.
And there’s no saying if they’ll take after Aurin or Salem.
We might end up with four kittens for a while. ”
Beau looked kinda horrified, but Sawyer burst out laughing. “Either way, we need to get cracking. I’m gonna go tell Hendrix and Dylan and Fray and Tobin they’re on cleanup duty. Floors, walls, windows, mopping, scrubbing.”
“They’re gonna love that,” Ciaran deadpanned.
Sawyer didn’t seem to care. He all but skipped out the front door on a mission to get the others.
Ciaran smiled, his hearts warm. “You’ve created a monster,” he said to Beau.
Beau grimaced. “Sorry about that.”
“Don’t be,” Ciaran said. “I should thank you.”
SAWYER
It was the perfect distraction. A project Sawyer could sink his teeth into. He’d started immediately, corralling the others into helping, and they were happy to do so. Admittedly, they weren’t as enthused as he and Beau were, or even Ciaran for that matter, but they did help.
Beau checked over the beams and walls for rot or damp, and then he did the same with the foundations while Sawyer concentrated on the cosmetic fixes.
He was no builder or even a handyman, really.
And the cast on his arm didn’t help a great deal, but what he lacked in skill or ability, he made up for with enthusiasm.
Ciaran almost had a conniption when he came inside to see Sawyer up a ladder. Okay, so he might have been standing on the top rung, and it wasn’t particularly stable, but he was making progress.
He had the walkie-talkie clipped onto the back of his long pants in case Aurin or Salem needed anything, and he was on a mission.
It felt good to be doing something. A community project, and by lunchtime the next day, Sawyer was already beginning to think of other projects he could do after this. Like a small library, or maybe a community room with a pool table and a projector for movie nights.
Hendrix and Dylan helped out on the ladder, while Kellan preferred his two feet on the ground. Hendrix was pretty handy too. Dylan assisted him with the right tool and a hushed comment every so often that made Hendrix laugh, and of course Kellan watched on like a lovesick fool.
Sawyer adored them all, and he loved their dynamic.
He’d originally assumed it would be Kellan who would be the one in charge of their trio, but the more time Sawyer spent with them, the more he realised it was Hendrix who took the lead.
He also assumed that spilled over into the bedroom, and by the gods, he loved that for Kellan.
“What’s got you smiling like that?” Ciaran asked.
Sawyer hadn’t heard him come in, and he could see now he’d brought Hudson with him, who was carrying a large tray of fresh bread rolls.
Sawyer jumped down off the pew he’d been standing on so he could sand back the windowsill, and he gave Ciaran a kiss. “I’m smiling because I’m happy,” he said.
“And these are tomatoes from the garden?” Kellan asked, holding his bread roll.
“The hothouse, yes,” Hudson said.