Forgiven (9 page)

The raised voices outside Riley’s door caught her attention because one of them had a familiar Scottish burr.
Yes!

The master entered the room with a ruddier face than usual, like he’d been arguing. In his hand was her backpack. He didn’t speak until he took a seat on a chair near the couch, then beckoned her over. Once she joined him, he gave her the pack. ‘See if there’s anythin’ missin’.’

Riley dug through it, wondering what had caught the hunters’ interest. No surprise, her father’s Holy Water research papers were gone. Her cellphone was missing too.

She gave Stewart the news. ‘They even went through my make-up kit.’

The master shot a glare at the hunter near the door. ‘Ya can leave now.’

‘Lieutenant Amundson said—’ the man began.

‘This lass has the right ta counsel, and that
must
be private.’

‘Sir, I . . .’

‘Out!’ Stewart bellowed, and to Riley’s astonishment the hunter complied. The door clicked shut. ‘Sometimes ya just hafta shout,’ the Scotsman complained.

Riley closed her eyes in an effort to calm herself.
He won’t let them do anything bad to me.
If this had been Harper, she wouldn’t be so sure.

‘Riley?’ She opened her eyes to find Stewart watching her intently. There were dark circles under his eyes, evidence that he hadn’t had much sleep. ‘Ya hafta trust me today.’

That didn’t sound good.

He bent closer to her. ‘We must talk very quietly now. We don’t want ta be overheard. Ya ken?’ She nodded. ‘I wish ya’d come ta me first, but we’ll work with what we have.’ He leaned even closer now. ‘Tell me what happened. Don’t leave anythin’ out. If ya lie ta me, I don’t have a hope of savin’ ya.’

Now she was really scared.

Riley took a deep breath and in the quietest voice possible she whispered all her secrets. About her dad and Ori and Lucifer and her deal with Heaven. With each confession tears began to build, stinging her eyes.

Stewart muttered something under his breath, shaking his head. ‘I shoulda guessed Hell would come after ya.’

How would he have known that?

‘Did ya give up yer soul?’ he asked, his voice so low she almost couldn’t hear it. Riley shook her head. ‘Ya swear that on yer father’s grave?’

‘Yes.’

Relief lit the old master’s face. He leaned away, tapping his fingers on a knee in thought. ‘I knew somethin’ was up, but I couldn’t see it clear. Simon was dyin’ that night at the Tabernacle, I was sure of it, but the next day he’s on the mend. I wondered who had a hand in that.’ Then he leaned towards her again. ‘What does Heaven require of ya?’

He’ll never believe me.
‘I’m supposed to prevent Armageddon.’ She waited for him to call her a liar, then leave her to deal with the hunters on her own.

Instead, the master sighed deeply.

‘You believe me?’ she said.

‘Of course I do. Ya might not know it, but ya can’t lie worth a damn. Besides, it all makes sense now.’

‘It sure doesn’t to me,’ Riley grumbled.

‘Anythin’ else I should know?’

Riley filled him in on the Holy Water investigation and exactly what she had been up to overnight.

‘My friend Peter has all the photographs and video. I can give you his number.’

Stewart pulled out his cellphone and stored the information as she dictated it. Then he leaned back and stared up at the plain white ceiling for a time, collecting his thoughts. She knew better than to interrupt though the tension was turning her stomach into tangled knots.

Finally he leaned close to her again. ‘Tell them everythin’ but that ya slept with a Fallen.’

‘Even about Lucifer?’ she asked, surprised.

‘Aye.’

‘They’ll ask about Ori. They’ll want to know what happened between us. There’s no way I can talk about that.’

‘I’m thinkin’ they won’t. Trust an old Scotsman’s instincts,’ Stewart replied.

‘I hope you know what you’re doing.’

The master gave her a wry grin. ‘So do I, lass, so do I.’

They were kept waiting for another thirty minutes, as if punishing them for having defied the priest’s command for a swift interview. If it hadn’t been for Stewart, Riley would have totally lost it. To fill the time and keep her from worrying, the master had regaled her with tales about his childhood in Scotland.

‘I started trappin’ demons when I was ten,’ he explained. ‘My first solo trappin’ was in a bakery in my hometown.’

‘It went down perfectly, right?’ she asked.
It always does for everyone else.

‘Nay, lass, the demon tore the place apart. I staggered out the front door, wee beastie in hand, covered in flour and bread dough. My poor father was stricken with horror.’

Riley laughed at the mental picture. ‘At least my first trapping went better than that.’

The door opened and a hunter beckoned to them.

‘It’s time, lass,’ the master said gently.

How many had heard those words over the centuries? How many had faced the certain knowledge that their mistakes might cost them everything?

Riley shot a frightened look at Stewart. ‘I don’t know if I can do this. I’m so scared.’

He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. ‘Yer a Blackthorne,’ he murmured. ‘Be strong and ya’ll do just fine.’

He’d said exactly the right thing. Her father would expect her to be brave, to face this head on.
I’ll do it for him.

When Stewart moved at a deliberately slow pace, she matched his speed down the hallway, trailed by a pair of hunters. The room they entered was laid out like it had been designed for business meetings rather than a place to sleep. Three men sat round an oval conference table: Captain Salvatore, the brawny blond lieutenant who’d acted so mean to her and Father Rosetti, the Vatican’s representative with his dark hair trimmed in silver. Riley took a seat and nestled her hands in her lap, trying hard to not look like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming truck. She wished her dad was here. Stewart settled in at her left. To her right was the captain. On the other side of the table were the dark-eyed priest and the glowering lieutenant.

‘Miss Blackthorne,’ Salvatore began, ‘as you are an orphan and under age, will you allow Grand Master Stewart to serve as your legal guardian during these proceedings?’

Grand Master?
‘Yes.’

‘Then we shall begin with the paperwork that stipulates that agreement.’

Riley expected some long and complex legal form – instead it was one typewritten page that indicated that Stewart was the Designated Adult who would watch over her best interests during this and all future interactions with the Holy See.

She and Stewart signed on the dotted lines, then so did everyone else at the table, followed by the priest using an embossing stamp at the bottom of the page. He tucked it into a file with her name on it.

After a moment’s pause, Father Rossini made the sign of the cross and intoned a prayer. Taking the hint from the others, she bowed her head. Riley didn’t understand what the priest was saying so she made up her own plea in case God was actually listening.

You know I’m not evil. I made a stupid mistake. A little help here would be good. I really need it right now. And look out for my Dad, please? He needs your help too.

The instant the prayer ended, Rosetti pierced her with his cobalt eyes. ‘Tell us of the fallen angel named Ori.’

That was the one person she didn’t want to talk about.

‘I met him at the Terminus market.’ He’d been so ruggedly handsome, so kind and thoughtful it was impossible to ignore him.
I should have known he wasn’t for real.

‘You do not seem surprised to hear he is a fallen angel.’

Riley took a deep breath and continued, ‘Ori said he was a freelance demon hunter and that he knew my dad.’ The moment the words were out, she realized that was a big mistake. She shouldn’t have mentioned Paul Blackthorne and the angel in the same sentence.

‘Was your father acquainted with the Fallen?’ the priest asked, targeting her error.

If she admitted that Ori had been the one to claim her father’s soul, this questioning would go bad in a hurry. She shrugged. ‘Ori lied about a lot of stuff.’

‘This Fallen, what else did he tell you?’

‘That he was hunting the Five that killed my dad. That it was rogue and had to be destroyed.’

Amundson said something to Salvatore in Italian, but the lead hunter shook his head.

The priest continued. ‘Why did the Fallen target you in particular?’

Riley didn’t want to get into the whole
Hell is after me because of Heaven’s deal
thing. ‘I don’t know. I’m just an apprentice trapper.’

‘Yet you claim to have captured a Gastro-Fiend on your own.’

Rosetti’s chiding hit a nerve. ‘I don’t
claim
anything. I caught it. I . . . got lucky,’ she said. ‘I should have been the thing’s supper that night.’

More conversation in Italian. Did Stewart understand any of this?
He must be. He’s not asking them to translate for him.

The priest turned back towards her, his brows furrowed. ‘Who destroyed the Geo-Fiend at your master’s home?’

‘The angel.’

‘Why did you lie to Captain Salvatore and tell him it was Master Harper?’ Rosetti pressed.

‘Because Ori asked me not to tell anyone he’d done it.’

‘Was Master Harper aware of this arrangement?’

‘No. He was knocked out at the time.’

‘Why would you do what the Fallen asked of you?’ he asked.

‘I’d found out he was an angel by then so I trusted him.’

Rosetti seemed taken aback. ‘You
knew
he was a Fallen and yet you continued to have dealings with him?’

‘No,’ Riley retorted. ‘I only knew he was an angel, not that he worked for Hell.’ Her throat tightened and she struggled to take a breath. Sensing her distress, Stewart poured her a glass of water and placed it front of her. Murmuring her thanks, Riley picked it up in shaking hands. She took her time sipping the liquid, allowing her to think through what she would say next.

One wrong word and I’m history.

She set the glass down with a quaking hand. ‘I was hanging with Ori in Centennial Park and someone bumped into me. It made me feel weird and next thing I know I can see Ori’s got wings.’ She shook her head at the memory. ‘That pretty much told me he wasn’t buying his clothes at Walmart.’

‘Pardon?’ Rosetti asked, puzzled.

The priest had no sense of humour. ‘I didn’t find out he worked for Hell until later.’

Amundson spoke up. ‘Are you trappers so ignorant you don’t recognize a Fallen when you see one?’

‘Would you?’ she shot back. ‘It’s not like there was a big X on his forehead or anything.’

‘There are ways to tell who they serve,’ the man replied.

‘Well, nobody told me, and I’m certainly not a mind reader,’ Riley replied. ‘He was polite and didn’t treat me like a child, unlike about every other person on this planet.’

A faint smile curved at the edges of Stewart’s mouth. ‘Apprentice trappers are not taught about the Fallen. It is assumed they will never encounter one until they reach master level. Clearly it’s time ta revise that assumption.’

The priest nodded gravely. His eyes went back to Riley. ‘Where is your father’s corpse at this moment?’

Rosetti had unknowingly given her an out by specifying ‘at this moment’. Her dad could be at Mort’s or he might be somewhere else by now.

‘I’m not sure.’

‘Did you pledge your immortal soul to Hell?’

Though he frightened her more than any of the other hunters, she glared at Rosetti. ‘No, I did not give up my soul,’ she insisted.

Leaning forward, the priest rested his elbows on the table. ‘You are the first female in the Atlanta Demon Trappers Guild. I understand that your apprenticeship has been turbulent, to say the least.’ He paused for effect. ‘Perhaps you were angry at how you’ve been treated by the other trappers and saw a means to seek your revenge.’