Chapter TWENTY sEVEN
Mike
It took hours to get the dried blood out of my hair, even with the heat from the shower pounding onto my body. Whatever Harrow had done to me last night in the alley had long lasting and intense effects. Smells were overwhelming and they attacked from every direction. I could hear the damn hound from down the street who barked at everyone that passed. There was also the smell of perfume that floated through the air from two streets over. I could the young lady’s whispers on the phone to her boyfriend’s best friend and they weren't ladylike at all.
The hot water ran out long before I felt clean, but what could I do? It wasn't like I could spend the whole day in the shower and certainly I had other things that had to be done. First and foremost, I had to find Jenny and stop Harrow's rage and increasing body count as he hunted her down. It still amazed me how he could be in the midst of an all-out war and except for a single body discovered in an alley beside an unsavory bar, nobody noticed. I’m not sure if it's the state of the city or if Harrow was just that good. I guess time would tell.
I opened the bathroom door and dried myself with the soft cotton towel that Jenny gave me for my birthday a few years back. It was one of those fancy towels with the word “Guest” embroidered on the edges. I can't remember the last time I had a guest so it had become just another towel. The cool air felt good as I stepped out into the tiny room that connected the bathroom and my little bedroom. My house was quite small by most standards, but it had a comfortable cottage feel to it. It was why Nathanial bought it for me. It's not like I could ever afford such a place on a priest’s salary.
It was a good house with thick walls that were painted in eggshell white with grungy looking beige carpets that always appeared dirty no matter how often I cleaned them. I liked the fact that I could almost see the whole place from any room and the warm sunshine always made it seem so bright.
"I think we need to talk," a voice said from the living room. I turned and was met by two men wearing thick gold chains with black t shirts and heavy leather. "I hate to intrude, but I have some pressing questions that I really need answered."
Saying I was escorted through the small hallway into the living room would be an understatement. Grabbing hold of my arms, they pushed me along like a prisoner walking down death row. I wasn’t certain that it was him, but it seemed to me that I was speaking to Danny “The King” Carminati. A well-spoken giant of a man wearing a dark blue suit and one of those red-colored ties that up until now I had only seen on TV. His whole outfit seemed to be from a bad gangster movie. He wore black and white dress shoes with pointed toes and as he leaned forwards he revealed a holstered gun with what appeared to be an ivory handle. I was tossed into the room like a puppet.
Waving his hands, The King laughed and added, “Now boys don’t be so rough. We’re here for a friendly conversation.”
This was not what I expected when I walked out of the shower.
“What exactly do you want to talk about?” I was going to throw in “About religion,” but something told me that being a smart ass would end up in me getting my ass kicked. That wasn’t how I wanted this day to end.
Tapping his fingers tips together he laughed, “We have plenty to discuss, Father Mike. It’s ok if I call you Father Mike, isn’t it?”
“As you wish,” was all I said. People called me a lot of things throughout the years and Father Mike was one of the more affectionate terms.
Pointing, he laughed “If any man says priests don’t have big balls I can argue the fact that is for sure, but I think you might want to cover those big boys up so that we can have a little talk.” It hadn’t occurred to me until now that my towel was wrapped around my neck and not my waist until now. Slipping it down and wrapping it firmly around my waist he smiled and said, “Yes that’s much better.”
“So what can I help you with?”
Slapping his hands together he jumped back, “Right to the point! I like that. None of the pleasantries that society pushes on us. No ‘Who are you?’ just ‘What do you want?’”
I guess I was being rude, but these weren’t exactly invited guests. They were invaders who happened to catch me in a vulnerable position. This was the first time anybody had ac caught me with my pants down so to speak.
“Let’s get straight to it. Do you know about a man named Renaud Barthélémy? The writer, I mean.”
“Yes, I grew up with him. We were rather close until he moved away.”
“That seems to be what another friend of his told me.”
“You mean Jenny Bailey, don’t you?”
Smiling, he started tapping his fingers together, “It seems like you are a well-informed man, Father Mike.”
“What can I say? I have a trusting face and my job is to know secrets.”
“Ok, what secrets of mine do you know?” He asked, putting a hand on his holster.
He had a nervous twitch in his eye, which scared me a little. It wasn’t the confident, in control look of a reasonable man looking to talk about things. His heart was beating faster and faster. I don’t know how I knew it, but I could hear the added stress it took to force the blood through his blocked arteries. He was only a few years away from a severe heart attack.
“I know enough of your secrets to know that for all the gold in the world I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes.”
Waving his hand trying to sound unconcerned he muttered, “Yes, yes I’ve heard it before. A dead man is going to be coming after me when the sun goes down.” Looking to the two men on either side of me he stated, “I’m not afraid of the creatures that go bump in the night. I am the one that those things are afraid of.”
Stepping closer I said, “How many men have you sent after the thing that goes bump in the night?”
His heart was racing and his chest tightened as he thought about what I had said.
“A whole generation of soldiers. Not just soldiers, but the children of my oldest friends lost their lives hunting down the monster.”
“And how many more do you think will die before this war is over with?”
“So Father, is this the point when you make me an offer I can’t refuse?” He had the same look in his eyes that Wilson had when he was talking about his successes in the business world. Leaning back, he smiled and asked, “What is this going to cost me.”
It never occurred to me before that I had a lot of valuable knowledge about many people. Little things mostly, but every now and then I’d get a gold nugget and maybe it was time for me to see this knowledge as power.
“How bad do you want to survive this war?”
“Survive?”
I walked over to a black metal foldout bed of mine and sat down, feeling it buckle under my weight. I never liked sitting in it because the aluminum poles always pinched my ass, but the only comfortable chair in the whole place had been claimed by The King. “
May I call you King?”
“Let’s not be so formal. Call me Danny.” He didn’t look so intimidating now. He was hanging onto my every word like one of the few eager children left in my Sunday school class as I read the Christian stories. His legs were fidgeting as he kept staring at me, waiting for some great display of knowledge about his new enemy.
“OK Danny, you have stepped into the midst of a battle that is bigger than anything you have ever encountered. You are used to battling men. Human men that bleed and die. These men aren’t human. They don’t just bleed and die.”
A frown filled his face as he nodded his head, “That one Renaud bleeds alright, it’s just thick and black like oil. Damnest thing, actually.”
Black blood was something new even to me, but I thought the color of his blood had great meaning. The image of Hell and damnation filled my mind and I couldn’t help but wonder if Harrow’s prediction that Renaud was the bringer of a great evil wasn’t true. He was definitely a witch or a warlock, that I knew for sure since seeing Harrow’s memories and now I wondered
what else I was stepping into.
“Does thick black blood sound human to you?” I reached over, grabbing a little gold crucifix that stood on the little stand beside the hide-a-bed, “Are you a religious man Danny?”
Laughing, he responded, “I am a good catholic boy, Father. Never miss a Sunday service.”
Playing with the crucifix I said, “Then you might want to start praying a little harder because there are things that belong Hell that are now hunting you.”
"Oh come on, Father. I will admit that this guy has been a major pain in the ass and he has an uncanny knack of surviving and perhaps he is a born killer, but I don't think he's some kind of boogie man." He believed, but refused to admit it. Kind of like an atheist who says that God doesn't exist, but says “Thank God” when something good happens and swears it's just a figure of speech. I tossed the little gold crucifix at him and he caught it, looking all confused. Pulling out his own he said, "I already have one."
"That one hasn't witnessed any of your crimes and honestly, without my help you will be discovering that Hell is real long before you want to."
Holding the cross in his hand he looked up, "And what's the price for salvation, Father?"
"Love."
He burst out laughing, "You seem to be one of those rejected suitors. A man who has loved someone from a far and now you are tired of hearing no. Why do I have a feeling that you are the most dangerous man in the room."
"Because I am." My mind was clear as to what I wanted. If I was going to throw my friends to the wolves I wanted a great reward. I wanted Jenny to lust for me the way she did for any man that Wilson told her to. I had wished that I had money and power my whole life. Not because I wanted riches or because I wanted men to fear me, but because I wanted Jenny to want me the way she wanted so many others.
Tossing the cross back at me he said, "Tell me what you want and then tell me what you can do for the King."
"Rumor has it that you know how to break a woman so she bends to your will. That no woman ever runs from you and even after you beat them, they think that they are responsible for it. That they deserve it and will even thank you for doing it."
His face glowed as he sat back, locking his fingers together across his chest.
"Yes, that is part of my charm. I know how to make a woman love me and fear me at the same time."
Normally, I would have hated a man for this kind of thing. Using and abusing women like that. I had spent so much time trying to help women break this cycle of violence, but what if the cycle saved them in the end? What if The King could break Jenny enough that she could only come to me for help? That the only hero in her life was me and she was scared enough that she couldn't feel safe and secure unless I was holding her?
"I want Jenny."
"Mrs. Bailey? Oh I have plans for her. Truly a high-class piece of ass, that one."
"Change your plans for her then."
"Now I know you want to be a big man here Father Mike, but a woman like that is out of your league. She's not going to be an easy one to control."
"Then I guess we have nothing else to discuss, Danny. If I were you, I would get my affairs in order because I know what's coming for you and you won't win this war." I stood up and headed towards the kitchen. "Go home, kiss your wife goodbye, and spend your last hours playing ball with your kids."
"Let's be reasonable. I can break the daughter Jade, and you will have a very submissive and obedient woman. I mean one that you can mold like clay. That I can arrange easily. If you don't want her I have a sweet thing back at the factory named Maria. The more you use her, the more she loves you."
I snapped, "If you had any other options you wouldn't be here. If you thought that you could win you wouldn't even have considered a deal with me, so go home and prepare your ass to meet the afterlife. You won't get to paradise, so pack sun screen and a speedo."
I heard a click and turned to find Danny holding a revolver next to my ear. "We aren't finished talking yet."
I was terrified as the cold metal pressed against my head. My stomach tightened and I swear I could taste my fear, but I grabbed hold of the kitchen counter trying to control my trembling hands.
"You won't pull the trigger."
"Oh, I have killed better men then you."
I felt like I was going to throw up, but I was certain that he wouldn't follow through. A little part of me thought that if he did it might be a blessing in disguise because I was selling my soul for lust. Even if I called it love, I was well aware that it was a lie.
"Then do it."
It sounded like thunder as he pulled the trigger and I wet myself uncontrollably.
"Father, you might be a fool, but you aren't looking to die, are you?"
I was so embarrassed seeing the yellow stream running along the floor towards the refrigerator still trying to control my trembling body. If this was a test of faith or manhood I had failed utterly and my wet towel was proof enough of that.
"No I don't want to die and if you shoot me it’s over. When Harrow comes for you it will be much worse. If you can imagine it, here is what your future has in store for you. Let this image linger in your mind. An all-powerful three-year-old throwing a temper tantrum. He has no remorse or guilt, just rage. You kidnapped the woman his brother loves, the mother of his child, and you are holding a gun on his best friend. How painful do you think your last hours will be? Do you think if you kill or harm any of us your family will be safe?"
He went silent and his gun dropped to his side. I was certain that he was going to have his henchmen pound me into the floor, but he stepped back and said, "Go get dressed and we will make a deal. You will have Mrs. Bailey and in a few hours, Wilson Bailey will be stiff."