***
I awoke in the morning with my book still near me, and Brande gone. On my way to the bathroom, I noticed the faint glow of a Circle of Protection around my bed, and despite myself, I smiled. I quickly washed and brushed my teeth, deciding to go with the blue dress I bought. My only other option was the blouse and skirt Jasmine had lent me when I left her house. However, I did put on the thin gold bracelet she gave me as a parting gift.
When I came down for breakfast, I saw only Father Gabriel sitting at the table we had shared yesterday. I joined him and began eating and drinking the meal that Claire set for me. Today he wore a cassock and a cape, no doubt using it to conceal his sword. I understood how he felt about having his weapon on him; even though I still had the silver knife from Bernard, I longed for the one I had lost at the university.
“Where’s everyone else?” I buttered my toast and took a bite.
“Lucien wasn’t feeling well, so they took him out for a walk.”
“I knew it. He’s of no use to us like this.”
“He lost his father only a couple of days ago. It’ll take time to heal.”
“I know how that feels.”
As soon as I was old enough, I began asking all kinds of questions, and researching any of the old news articles I could get my hands on about my father and his final assignment. I had found out that he had been repeatedly sent on diplomatic missions to the Ottoman Empire at the end of the Great War. The Turkish government began phasing out the Caliphate, and Mehmed VI feared for his life as it became increasingly clear that he would be deposed.
He asked for protection since he cooperated with stepping away from the Empire, and so my father was among those sent to watch and protect. The U.S. got what it wanted, which was a safe transition, a pair of eyes and ears in that region of the world, and the Gray Tower was given access to Mehmed’s personal collection of esoteric texts and scrolls spanning centuries. The Order of Wizards wouldn’t dream of passing up an opportunity to possess tomes of knowledge from ancient and medieval alchemists.
Of course, wherever there was mystical knowledge to be had, not only did it attract the Order, but also our enemies. The Gray Tower, and my father in particular, proved to be a constant thorn in the Black Wolves’ side. When we had learned of my dad’s disappearance and apparent death, I was as devastated as Lucien, and understood the heartache and loss. However, with the knowledge that the Black Wolves have failed and my father indeed lived, it gave me a sense of hope—but it also raised even more questions. For a moment, I thought of Marc’s accusation, but the idea made me feel ill, and I quickly dismissed it.
“I trust you have everything planned out regarding our friend Simon Vester?” Gabriel drank his glass of milk and patiently awaited an answer.
“I’m going to get him to tell me where the lab is. Heck, he’ll even give us a map if I want him to.”
“Then when it’s time to go there, I’ll dress in disguise.”
“You mean you don’t want a secret Nazi lab knowing that the Vatican is sending in warrior priests to shut them down?” I didn’t think I would ever get past that.
He leaned toward me. “I know I should’ve been at the Gray Tower by now, but I wanted to help you.”
“How sweet of you...why do you carry a sword?”
“It’s my weapon of choice, like your alchemist’s knife. My sword is a relic of sorts, and it holds great sentimental value.”
“Hmph.” I lifted my glass and drank some water.
“Just think—when you use a gun, bullets can fly anywhere or hit anyone.” He raised his hands and wagged his index fingers in varying directions. “However, with a sword, if I want to kill you with it, there’s no mistake.”
“And how do you reconcile that with being a man of the cloth?”
“I only fight in the defense of others, or if my opponent is a Cruenti. I mostly dispatch them, and Black Wolves.”
“You’re the oddest priest I’ve ever met.” However, I did like the idea of a Cruenti getting whacked on sight.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“If you weren’t trained by the Gray Tower, then how do you know to control your powers?”
“You assume that the Gray Tower is the only means of learning to do this?”
“Yes, now that you’ve mentioned it, the Black Wolves also specialize in training people with abilities.”
“Lucky for you, I am not one of them.”
Although his tone implied no malice, I felt mildly disturbed. Well, I wouldn’t say Brande didn’t warn me about questioning the man. In any case, despite my resentment toward Brande for not telling me about my father, deep inside I trusted him. If he could trust Father Gabriel, then I was willing to refrain from jumping to conclusions—for now.
“Can I ask you something, Father?”
“Of course.”
“How old were you when you first knew of your...gifts?”
“I was nine years old.”
“How old are you, Father?”
“Forty.”
I gasped and poured myself some Château. “Is that part of your gifts? You look my age.”
He shrugged. “Perhaps.”
“So...why did you become a priest?”
He studied me for a moment before answering. “When I was young, I had an encounter that I would never forget. I believed that in order to avoid falling into the trap that some wizards have found themselves in, that I should dedicate my life to God and keep constant vigilance.”
“So that’s why you go after Cruenti warlocks? Get the devil before he gets you?”
He gave a firm nod. “Does that surprise you?”
“Not really.”
Some people made pacts with demons for money, fame, or power. Cruenti made pacts with them for magic, regardless if they were born wizards or not. They satisfied the bond through their Blood Magic, which primarily consisted of feeding off other wizards. Something like that couldn’t be done without destroying one’s self in the process. The longer one remained a Cruenti, the closer one came to transforming into a Black Wolf. Sure, he would be all magic and still powerful, but his humanity wouldn’t remain intact. He’d be an abomination.
A wizard sensitive to the spirit world ended up being the easiest target for these demons. He’d either repel the temptation or, if he proved weak, would suffer from oppression until he finally gave in and became a Cruenti.
I shook these thoughts off and turned my attention toward Ernest, who came in with his arm around Lucien’s shoulder. I saw Lucien’s face and sighed.
“Look, breakfast is ready!” Ernest pointed toward the food, but Lucien only stared into blank space with red and swollen eyes. They took their seats a few tables away, and Brande came in carrying a paper bag. He looked rather relaxed, and had changed into a khaki shirt and black pants.
“Nice shirt.” I gestured for him to come sit next to me.
“Nice dress.” Brande took his seat.
“Thank you. I hope your outing this morning was productive.” I glanced at Lucien from the corner of my eye.
“Lucien just needed some fresh air. We stopped by the pharmacy and got a few things.” Brande handed me the bag, which was probably filled with minerals and metals for me. He always knew exactly what to look for and where to find ingredients, even though he didn’t have to do that for me.
“Excuse me.” I stood and walked toward the exit. Lightly brushing Lucien’s arm in passing, I impressed upon him the urge to come and sit outside and talk with me. He walked out after me, joining me on a bench next to a flowerbed a few buildings down from Le Fleur.
“I know what you’re going to say.” He stared at me without blinking. “I want to be here, and I want to help.”
“Lucien, we need all the help we can get, believe me. But if you’re not ready for this, then just stay in the hostel until we’re done.”
“They killed my father. I’m going with you to that laboratory and, no matter what the cost, I?
??m going to kill as many of them as I can.”
“I know, and that’s why I’m afraid you’re just an empty shell looking for revenge and not caring about anyone else.”
“Don’t patronize me.” He reached into his pocket and took out a lighter. When he lit his cigarette, the tainted fume of cadmium was even more pungent, and we both coughed.
“It shouldn’t require two other adults to take you out for fresh air and walk around. You’re a mess...and stop using that lighter or you’ll kill yourself. The metal’s toxic.” I tried to remain calm, but my frustration already had a hold of me.
With a smirk, he placed the lighter back into his pocket. “I’ll live long enough to finish this assignment, I assure you. I’ve already drawn out what the layout of the lab may look like. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s the same as the Catalonia lab.”
“Good, then once you get your head straight, you can actually be of use to us.”
“Assuming this weapons lab is even in this city, and assuming we can handle the guards, be it man or Black Wolf.”
“Brande, Gabriel, and I will take care of all the warlocks. You just take care of the German soldiers.”
“All right then,” he reached into his pocket, pulled out the tainted lighter, and tossed it to me. “If we die, we die.”
The lighter made my stomach feel queasy, and I set it aside. “Listen, I only knew your father briefly, but from the moment I met him, all he talked about was you. From what I hear, you’re helping to make a difference, and whatever you can do for us is appreciated. I want all of us to make it out alive.”
He gave a surprised look. He probably expected a verbal lashing. “I was supposed to take care of him, but he died in my arms...I have nothing now.”
“Nothing to fight for, right?”
“Why do you care so much?”
“Because, I can’t go through all of this without thinking, feeling...or questioning. Can you? If you think you have nothing to lose, you’ll run in there reckless and get yourself killed, and maybe us along with you.”
He snorted. “It seems this conversation wasn’t completely altruistic.”
“You’re damned right it isn’t, because if anything happens to Brande, you’ll regret it.”
A flicker of a smile crossed his face, and he shook his head. “You know, he told me the same thing about you this morning. Well, in his version, he said if anything happened to you, that he’d throw me off the Eiffel Tower.”
I smiled. “I’m not surprised...we’re good friends. So tell me truthfully, are you with us?”
“Yes,” he nodded. “I’m with you.”