Something Dark (A Lauren Lamb FBI Thriller—Book Four), page 16
Lauren lifted her eyes to Father Emilio’s own. They shone with compassion and tenderness. She smiled slightly. It was good to have him back.
She lifted her cappuccino to her lips and sipped as she thought of her answer. When no answer came, she finally replied, “I don’t know.”
“You are disturbed by your experience in the bell tower,” he deduced.
“Yes,” she said. “By all of my experiences lately, if I’m being honest.”
He smiled softly. “The work we do requires us to battle the enemy directly. It carries risks that your past work with the FBI did not. It is a lot to adjust to.”
“Well, this is the fourth case I’ve worked with you, and I’m still not adjusted,” she said. “In fact, I…”
She stopped herself before finishing that thought. She was going to tell the father that she felt less connected to reality with each passing day, but she didn’t want to give him even more of a reason to push for her return to the faith.
He didn’t need more reason. “Your lapsed faith puts you at greater risk from the agents of the Devil. You are strong, Lauren, but human strength is not enough to protect you from the demons hunting your soul.”
She turned away from the father and sipped her cappuccino again, staring pensively out the window. Father Emilio waited patiently for her to speak, saying nothing but simply gazing at her with his kind, sympathetic eyes.
Finally, Lauren spoke again. "What happened in the belfry? Was that… was I…"
“Possessed? No, not quite. The Enemy was influencing you, but he had not taken you just yet. If I had not intervened…”
He didn't finish that thought, and Lauren supposed he didn't have to. His words did little to reassure her not because it would mean that she was nearly possessed but because she had nearly killed Raquel Donna of her own volition.
Then again, demons didn’t exist after all, or so Lauren still wanted to believe. If that were the case, then it was entirely her will and not Satan’s that brought her a trigger pull away from killing Donna.
And it would be her will that would cause her to kill Fiero when she met him.
“Lauren,” the father clasped her hands in his own. “I will not allow the enemy to take you.”
She returned her eyes to his and saw a love that she hadn’t felt since the last time she saw her own father. That love and the strength behind it warmed her and softened the tension in her shoulders. She smiled and said, "I think you have events a little backward, Father. Last I checked, it was I who saved you from certain death.”
He grinned. “Yes, I suppose you did at that. Thank you, Lauren.”
“You’re welcome… and thank you.”
They sat for a moment, enjoying the closeness between them. It was a breath of fresh air after what had felt to Lauren like an eternity alone.
The moment was broken when Father Emilio’s phone rang. His smile faded, and he sighed wearily. “Cardinal Bertolli,” he explained, taking his phone from his pocket. “I swear the man can’t survive an hour without me.”
Lauren grinned. “Are you allowed to talk about the Cardinal like that?”
Father Emilio flipped his hand. “I’ll confess later.”
Lauren laughed. Then, impulsively, she leaned forward and kissed the father on his cheek. His eyes widened. “What was that for?”
She shrugged. “Just… letting you know I care.”
He smiled radiantly, the phone call forgotten. “You are a wonderful young woman, Lauren. I’m glad to have met you.”
His phone rang again, and he rolled his eyes once more. Lauren laughed. “It’s okay,” she said, “take the call. I have a train to catch anyway.”
“So soon? There is so much of Rome you haven’t seen.”
“Another time,” Lauren demurred. “I promised Enrico I would make up my absence to him when I got home. I don’t want to keep him waiting any longer than I have to.”
“Ah,” Father Emilio replied. “Well, in that case, I will meet you in Arezzo later. I owe you a dinner for saving my life.”
“I’ll take the dinner if you stop making a big deal out of that,” she said. “We’re partners. You’ve saved my life too. That’s just part of the job.”
“That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t show gratitude.” His phone rang again, and he sighed. “All right, all right, one moment.”
He answered, and Lauren took advantage of his preoccupation to kiss him on the cheek once more. She laughed when she saw a grin spread across his face once more. She squeezed his hand and left the café. Ten minutes later, she was on the train to Arezzo. Her thoughts the past week had been fraught with tension and trouble, but as she journeyed home, her mind was occupied solely with Enrico.
***
Enrico was sitting on his front porch, a glass of Lambrusco in his hand. He frowned when he saw Lauren approach, then grinned when he recognized her. He set his glass down on the small table next to his chair and met her at the foot of the porch. When he opened his arms, the strength fled Lauren’s body. She collapsed into his arms and held tightly, kissing him deeply and drinking in the feel of him, warm and strong, in her arms.
They kissed for a long moment, and when the kiss ended, they held each other for an even longer moment. Enrico stroked Lauren’s hair softly and she linked her arms behind his shoulders, closing her eyes and savoring the steady, powerful beat of his heart.
“I love you,” she said softly.
“I know,” he said, just as softly.
They remained in each other’s arms for another long moment. When they separated, Enrico cupped her face and kissed her softly again. “It’s good to see you, amorina.”
God, she loved that name. She smiled up at him and caressed his cheek. “It’s good to see you too.”
After another brief moment spent staring into each other’s eyes, Enrico gestured to the porch swing. “Would you like to join me?”
She nodded, and Enrico led her to the swing. “I’ll return in a moment with a glass for you,” he said.
He walked inside, and Lauren gazed across the rolling hills of Tuscany, just visible in the glow of the moon. The lights of Arezzo did little to dim the canopy of stars that shone above. Lauren's own house was dark right now, but Lauren could see her father's vineyard silhouetted underneath the soft moonlight.
She smiled at the sleeping town and felt powerfully, completely happy.
She was home.
Enrico returned and handed her a glass of Lambrusco. Lauren smiled gratefully and drank deeply, closing her eyes and allowing the gently bubbling liquid to warm her. Enrico took his seat next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. She leaned against his chest, and they enjoyed several minutes of comfortable silence as the night deepened.
Lauren broke the silence. “I wanted to pick up the conversation we had in Rome where we left off.”
“That’s all right, Lauren,” Enrico said gently. “I’m not angry anymore. You’re right. It’s wrong of me to expect you to heal on my time. That journey is your own, and I should support you, not pressure you.”
Lauren shook her head. “No. It’s not all right. I’ve been expecting the rest of the world to stop while I try to put together a puzzle with missing pieces.”
She sat up straight and met his eyes. “Kevin’s dead. I loved him every bit as much as I love you, and it kills me to know that he’s gone and the man who killed him is still out there somewhere. But it’s time for me to let him go and move on. I can’t let the past prevent me from having a future.” She linked her hand through his. “Our future.”
Enrico beamed at her, and his joy drove away nearly all of the darkness in Lauren’s soul.
Nearly all.
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
Father Emilio rejoined his companions in the secret room sixty feet underneath a nondescript office building removed from the rest of the campus. The others nodded briefly when he arrived. There were no smiles on his face or on any of the others. Several gazes drifted to the three empty chairs that only two weeks ago had been filled by Father Vincenzo, Father Grigoriy and Father Steinrich. Emilio sat in his own chair, carefully cradling his injured arm, and felt a stab of grief laced with guilt. Why had he survived, but they had not? What made him worth rescue and not his friends?
He was aware that his guilt was misplaced, but knowing that didn't relieve it. A thought crossed his mind that this was his punishment for the death of Maria Buonaserra. He was fated to continue while others returned to the arms of their Lord. He had retired, and Cardinal Bertolli had brought him back to the order when the convents in Pescara were plagued by a killer. He had nearly died, but Lauren had rescued him. His fight wasn't over.
Cardinal Bertolli called the meeting to order. “Let’s say a prayer for the souls of our fallen brothers.”
The priests bowed their heads dutifully, and Cardinal Bertolli began. "Father in Heaven, let thy hand of grace rest on the souls of Vincenzo Loggia, Grigoriy Gospadarev and Horst Steinrich. Have mercy on the souls of thy servants and grant them swift refuge in your loving arms. Feed them beside the still waters and lead them to green pastures that they might praise thy name forevermore. And so do we, now and forever, amen.”
“Amen,” the priests echoed.
“Amen,” Father Emilio repeated softly.
“The agent of our enemy is in jail,” Cardinal Bertolli began, “but we know now that apprehending the human agents of his will is no impediment to him. He is gathering his forces and preparing to enter the world.”
“He has been preparing for a while now,” Father Francisco interjected. “Would it not be reasonable to assume that he has already arrived?”
Cardinal Bertolli glanced at Father Emilio, and the father took a deep breath. “No,” he said, “he is not yet in the world. However, he has grown far stronger, as have his servants. The rash of possessions that our fallen brothers were attempting to combat is a sign of his growing influence. And the fact that he can now kill exorcists, even indirectly, gives me cause for fear that he might soon grow too powerful for us to banish.”
"There is always prayer and fasting," Father Tomasz reminded him. "By prayer and fasting with faith the size of a grain of mustard seed, we can overcome any enemy."
“Most any enemy,” Father Emilio corrected.
“Do we believe the Antichrist is here, then?” Father Francisco asked. “If so, then our mandate must shift to protect the faithful.”
“Our mandate is always to protect the faithful,” Father Philip retorted. “If the Antichrist is indeed in this world, then we serve at the pleasure of God until His rapture calls us home.”
“This can’t be the Antichrist,” Father Demetrious said, “The Antichrist will not be recognized as such until he has ascended the throne of this world, and that will come after the rapture anyway.”
“The Antichrist will not be recognized,” Father Tomasz agreed, “but if we see signs of his coming, we can spend our last days on Earth preparing the doubters and exhorting them to reject the mark of the beast that their souls might be saved upon the second coming of Jesus.”
The room erupted into debate, half the priests arguing that the Antichrist must be coming and the other half arguing that this was being blown entirely out of proportion. Father Emilio kept silent. He didn’t believe this was the Antichrist, but if the Prince intended to act in the world again, then the days that would follow may very well be the darkest to come before the Tribulation.
Cardinal Bertolli lifted a hand for silence, and the priests complied. "It doesn't serve us well to speculate on what we can't know for sure. As Father Philip has pointed out, our mandate remains the same. We will continue to fight the enemies of Christ in the spiritual realm and protect the faithful from the ravages of the Adversary and his servants."
There were several nods of agreement and several more of acquiescence. Cardinal Bertolli waited until the priests had acknowledged him, then continued. “We must now decide how we will respond to this rash of possessions. And we must recruit three more to our order.”
“With respect, Cardinal,” Father Francisco replied, “should we not focus on guiding the exorcists not in our order and ensure they are properly equipped to fight the coming battles? It seems to me that our empty seats can be filled once the battle is over.”
“And what if this battle doesn’t end?” Father Francisco replied. “If this is the coming of the Antichrist, then time spent on individual exorcisms is time wasted that would be better spent arming ourselves for the coming conflict.”
“The conflict is decided,” Father Demetrious reminded him. “When the rapture comes, all that will be left is to wait on God and follow His plan. There is no need to speculate what to do after that happens.”
Before the room could erupt into conflict again, Cardinal Bertolli lifted his hand. “We will fill the empty chairs in our order before long. Father Emilio, Father Tomasz, Father Benjamin: you three are the most tenured of our order. You will each recommend three candidates, and the order will vote on their inclusion.
“But not today. Today, we discuss the matter at hand, and only that.”
A few of the priests grumbled, but all nodded in agreement.
“Father Emilio,” Cardinal Bertolli continued. “You have battled the agents of the Prince several times recently. How do you feel we should respond?”
Father Emilio thought a moment. Images flashed through his mind: Carla from Cepagatti, the housekeeper from New York, the crazed Henri Cartier in Marseille…
Lauren grinning with manic delight as she aimed her gun at Raquel Donna’s head.
“I think we take the fight to him,” he replied. “We’ve been on the defensive thus far, and the Prince has only gotten stronger. It's time for us to strike while he's still vulnerable and we still have a chance to keep him bound. I suggest we move on the Knights of the True Faith and the cult of Asmodeus in New York and learn what we can about the Prince’s return.”
“And what makes you think they’ll talk to us?” Father Benjamin challenged.
“We make them talk,” Father Emilio said simply.
The room lapsed into silence. The priests considered Father Emilio’s words somberly. Finally, Cardinal Bertolli replied. “We must be careful not to act on fear, Father Emilio. I agree that we must be more abreast of the activities of the occult groups helping to bring the Prince to Earth, but I don’t believe we must resort to extraordinary techniques. We will send agents to watch the cults and report back. That will also allow us the element of surprise when we do strike.”
The other priests nodded in agreement, and Father Emilio, seeing he was outnumbered, kept silent.
The rest of the meeting was fairly mundane. One major decision was reached, a requirement that no exorcist perform without an assistant. It was a clear attempt to forestall any more murders, but Father Emilio kept in the back of his mind that Father Steinrich had an assistant and was still murdered.
Then again, Father Emilio had an assistant, and he was still here.
Lauren.
He said a brief prayer that she was all right and free of torment from the spirit that followed her. He was concerned for her first, but he was beginning to grow concerned for others. What he had seen in the belfry was far more sobering than any possession he had seen since Maria Buonaserra.
He felt a stab of guilt at the lie he’d told her. She had asked if she was possessed, and he had said no. It was, to his recollection, the first time he’d lied since taking his vows.
But would it really have helped her to know that she was possessed? Or would it simply hasten the process of erosion that ate away at her soul and left her open to the ravages of the enemy?
“Dismissed.”
Father Emilio started and realized that Cardinal Bertolli had called the meeting to a close. He stood, but before he could leave, Cardinal Bertolli called him. “Father Emilio, will you stay a moment, please?”
He bowed slightly and returned to his seat. When the last of the priests had filed out and the massive, sealed door had closed behind them, Cardinal Bertolli spoke. “How is Lauren doing?”
“She’s recovering well,” Father Emilio replied. “This was a challenging case for her, but she is resilient. She will be all right.” He smiled slightly. “She feared for my life more than hers, I believe.”
“Yes,” Cardinal Bertolli allowed, “but how is she?”
His eyes left no room for deflection. Father Emilio hesitated a moment, but eventually gave in. He had lied once already. He didn’t want to lie again. “She is in danger,” he admitted.
“How much danger?”
“Grave,” Father Emilio admitted reluctantly.
Cardinal Bertolli fell silent, his gray eyes boring into Father Emilio’s own. After a long moment, he said, “Should we consider replacing her?”
“No,” Father Emilio replied firmly. “She is far better off under my care.”
“There is more at stake than Lauren Lamb,” the Cardinal replied, “and more at stake than you or anyone else. You are our greatest asset if the Prince does return to Earth. You must be dedicated completely to the fight. Perhaps Miss Lamb should be allowed to recover in peace, and you should be assigned a junior priest as your partner."
“With respect, Cardinal,” Father Emilio replied. “I value Lauren’s presence on my investigations. Her perspective has proven crucial in the apprehension of the past four killers, not to mention to preserve my own life. I believe she is best utilized on these investigations.”
“But you aren’t,” Cardinal Bertolli insisted. “We need you ready to fight, Emilio.”
Father Emilio pursed his lips. “We must not jump at shadows Cardinal. Right now, Lauren and I are the best intelligence you have.”
“Yes,” the Cardinal agreed. “Why is that, I wonder?”
Lauren grinned and leveled the handgun at Donna’s head.
Father Emilio sighed. “The enemy will not leave her alone simply because we’re not watching her.”
“Why not? What is his obsession with her?”
LAUREN LAMB: NUN, PRODIGAL, WITNESS
She lifted her cappuccino to her lips and sipped as she thought of her answer. When no answer came, she finally replied, “I don’t know.”
“You are disturbed by your experience in the bell tower,” he deduced.
“Yes,” she said. “By all of my experiences lately, if I’m being honest.”
He smiled softly. “The work we do requires us to battle the enemy directly. It carries risks that your past work with the FBI did not. It is a lot to adjust to.”
“Well, this is the fourth case I’ve worked with you, and I’m still not adjusted,” she said. “In fact, I…”
She stopped herself before finishing that thought. She was going to tell the father that she felt less connected to reality with each passing day, but she didn’t want to give him even more of a reason to push for her return to the faith.
He didn’t need more reason. “Your lapsed faith puts you at greater risk from the agents of the Devil. You are strong, Lauren, but human strength is not enough to protect you from the demons hunting your soul.”
She turned away from the father and sipped her cappuccino again, staring pensively out the window. Father Emilio waited patiently for her to speak, saying nothing but simply gazing at her with his kind, sympathetic eyes.
Finally, Lauren spoke again. "What happened in the belfry? Was that… was I…"
“Possessed? No, not quite. The Enemy was influencing you, but he had not taken you just yet. If I had not intervened…”
He didn't finish that thought, and Lauren supposed he didn't have to. His words did little to reassure her not because it would mean that she was nearly possessed but because she had nearly killed Raquel Donna of her own volition.
Then again, demons didn’t exist after all, or so Lauren still wanted to believe. If that were the case, then it was entirely her will and not Satan’s that brought her a trigger pull away from killing Donna.
And it would be her will that would cause her to kill Fiero when she met him.
“Lauren,” the father clasped her hands in his own. “I will not allow the enemy to take you.”
She returned her eyes to his and saw a love that she hadn’t felt since the last time she saw her own father. That love and the strength behind it warmed her and softened the tension in her shoulders. She smiled and said, "I think you have events a little backward, Father. Last I checked, it was I who saved you from certain death.”
He grinned. “Yes, I suppose you did at that. Thank you, Lauren.”
“You’re welcome… and thank you.”
They sat for a moment, enjoying the closeness between them. It was a breath of fresh air after what had felt to Lauren like an eternity alone.
The moment was broken when Father Emilio’s phone rang. His smile faded, and he sighed wearily. “Cardinal Bertolli,” he explained, taking his phone from his pocket. “I swear the man can’t survive an hour without me.”
Lauren grinned. “Are you allowed to talk about the Cardinal like that?”
Father Emilio flipped his hand. “I’ll confess later.”
Lauren laughed. Then, impulsively, she leaned forward and kissed the father on his cheek. His eyes widened. “What was that for?”
She shrugged. “Just… letting you know I care.”
He smiled radiantly, the phone call forgotten. “You are a wonderful young woman, Lauren. I’m glad to have met you.”
His phone rang again, and he rolled his eyes once more. Lauren laughed. “It’s okay,” she said, “take the call. I have a train to catch anyway.”
“So soon? There is so much of Rome you haven’t seen.”
“Another time,” Lauren demurred. “I promised Enrico I would make up my absence to him when I got home. I don’t want to keep him waiting any longer than I have to.”
“Ah,” Father Emilio replied. “Well, in that case, I will meet you in Arezzo later. I owe you a dinner for saving my life.”
“I’ll take the dinner if you stop making a big deal out of that,” she said. “We’re partners. You’ve saved my life too. That’s just part of the job.”
“That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t show gratitude.” His phone rang again, and he sighed. “All right, all right, one moment.”
He answered, and Lauren took advantage of his preoccupation to kiss him on the cheek once more. She laughed when she saw a grin spread across his face once more. She squeezed his hand and left the café. Ten minutes later, she was on the train to Arezzo. Her thoughts the past week had been fraught with tension and trouble, but as she journeyed home, her mind was occupied solely with Enrico.
***
Enrico was sitting on his front porch, a glass of Lambrusco in his hand. He frowned when he saw Lauren approach, then grinned when he recognized her. He set his glass down on the small table next to his chair and met her at the foot of the porch. When he opened his arms, the strength fled Lauren’s body. She collapsed into his arms and held tightly, kissing him deeply and drinking in the feel of him, warm and strong, in her arms.
They kissed for a long moment, and when the kiss ended, they held each other for an even longer moment. Enrico stroked Lauren’s hair softly and she linked her arms behind his shoulders, closing her eyes and savoring the steady, powerful beat of his heart.
“I love you,” she said softly.
“I know,” he said, just as softly.
They remained in each other’s arms for another long moment. When they separated, Enrico cupped her face and kissed her softly again. “It’s good to see you, amorina.”
God, she loved that name. She smiled up at him and caressed his cheek. “It’s good to see you too.”
After another brief moment spent staring into each other’s eyes, Enrico gestured to the porch swing. “Would you like to join me?”
She nodded, and Enrico led her to the swing. “I’ll return in a moment with a glass for you,” he said.
He walked inside, and Lauren gazed across the rolling hills of Tuscany, just visible in the glow of the moon. The lights of Arezzo did little to dim the canopy of stars that shone above. Lauren's own house was dark right now, but Lauren could see her father's vineyard silhouetted underneath the soft moonlight.
She smiled at the sleeping town and felt powerfully, completely happy.
She was home.
Enrico returned and handed her a glass of Lambrusco. Lauren smiled gratefully and drank deeply, closing her eyes and allowing the gently bubbling liquid to warm her. Enrico took his seat next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. She leaned against his chest, and they enjoyed several minutes of comfortable silence as the night deepened.
Lauren broke the silence. “I wanted to pick up the conversation we had in Rome where we left off.”
“That’s all right, Lauren,” Enrico said gently. “I’m not angry anymore. You’re right. It’s wrong of me to expect you to heal on my time. That journey is your own, and I should support you, not pressure you.”
Lauren shook her head. “No. It’s not all right. I’ve been expecting the rest of the world to stop while I try to put together a puzzle with missing pieces.”
She sat up straight and met his eyes. “Kevin’s dead. I loved him every bit as much as I love you, and it kills me to know that he’s gone and the man who killed him is still out there somewhere. But it’s time for me to let him go and move on. I can’t let the past prevent me from having a future.” She linked her hand through his. “Our future.”
Enrico beamed at her, and his joy drove away nearly all of the darkness in Lauren’s soul.
Nearly all.
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
Father Emilio rejoined his companions in the secret room sixty feet underneath a nondescript office building removed from the rest of the campus. The others nodded briefly when he arrived. There were no smiles on his face or on any of the others. Several gazes drifted to the three empty chairs that only two weeks ago had been filled by Father Vincenzo, Father Grigoriy and Father Steinrich. Emilio sat in his own chair, carefully cradling his injured arm, and felt a stab of grief laced with guilt. Why had he survived, but they had not? What made him worth rescue and not his friends?
He was aware that his guilt was misplaced, but knowing that didn't relieve it. A thought crossed his mind that this was his punishment for the death of Maria Buonaserra. He was fated to continue while others returned to the arms of their Lord. He had retired, and Cardinal Bertolli had brought him back to the order when the convents in Pescara were plagued by a killer. He had nearly died, but Lauren had rescued him. His fight wasn't over.
Cardinal Bertolli called the meeting to order. “Let’s say a prayer for the souls of our fallen brothers.”
The priests bowed their heads dutifully, and Cardinal Bertolli began. "Father in Heaven, let thy hand of grace rest on the souls of Vincenzo Loggia, Grigoriy Gospadarev and Horst Steinrich. Have mercy on the souls of thy servants and grant them swift refuge in your loving arms. Feed them beside the still waters and lead them to green pastures that they might praise thy name forevermore. And so do we, now and forever, amen.”
“Amen,” the priests echoed.
“Amen,” Father Emilio repeated softly.
“The agent of our enemy is in jail,” Cardinal Bertolli began, “but we know now that apprehending the human agents of his will is no impediment to him. He is gathering his forces and preparing to enter the world.”
“He has been preparing for a while now,” Father Francisco interjected. “Would it not be reasonable to assume that he has already arrived?”
Cardinal Bertolli glanced at Father Emilio, and the father took a deep breath. “No,” he said, “he is not yet in the world. However, he has grown far stronger, as have his servants. The rash of possessions that our fallen brothers were attempting to combat is a sign of his growing influence. And the fact that he can now kill exorcists, even indirectly, gives me cause for fear that he might soon grow too powerful for us to banish.”
"There is always prayer and fasting," Father Tomasz reminded him. "By prayer and fasting with faith the size of a grain of mustard seed, we can overcome any enemy."
“Most any enemy,” Father Emilio corrected.
“Do we believe the Antichrist is here, then?” Father Francisco asked. “If so, then our mandate must shift to protect the faithful.”
“Our mandate is always to protect the faithful,” Father Philip retorted. “If the Antichrist is indeed in this world, then we serve at the pleasure of God until His rapture calls us home.”
“This can’t be the Antichrist,” Father Demetrious said, “The Antichrist will not be recognized as such until he has ascended the throne of this world, and that will come after the rapture anyway.”
“The Antichrist will not be recognized,” Father Tomasz agreed, “but if we see signs of his coming, we can spend our last days on Earth preparing the doubters and exhorting them to reject the mark of the beast that their souls might be saved upon the second coming of Jesus.”
The room erupted into debate, half the priests arguing that the Antichrist must be coming and the other half arguing that this was being blown entirely out of proportion. Father Emilio kept silent. He didn’t believe this was the Antichrist, but if the Prince intended to act in the world again, then the days that would follow may very well be the darkest to come before the Tribulation.
Cardinal Bertolli lifted a hand for silence, and the priests complied. "It doesn't serve us well to speculate on what we can't know for sure. As Father Philip has pointed out, our mandate remains the same. We will continue to fight the enemies of Christ in the spiritual realm and protect the faithful from the ravages of the Adversary and his servants."
There were several nods of agreement and several more of acquiescence. Cardinal Bertolli waited until the priests had acknowledged him, then continued. “We must now decide how we will respond to this rash of possessions. And we must recruit three more to our order.”
“With respect, Cardinal,” Father Francisco replied, “should we not focus on guiding the exorcists not in our order and ensure they are properly equipped to fight the coming battles? It seems to me that our empty seats can be filled once the battle is over.”
“And what if this battle doesn’t end?” Father Francisco replied. “If this is the coming of the Antichrist, then time spent on individual exorcisms is time wasted that would be better spent arming ourselves for the coming conflict.”
“The conflict is decided,” Father Demetrious reminded him. “When the rapture comes, all that will be left is to wait on God and follow His plan. There is no need to speculate what to do after that happens.”
Before the room could erupt into conflict again, Cardinal Bertolli lifted his hand. “We will fill the empty chairs in our order before long. Father Emilio, Father Tomasz, Father Benjamin: you three are the most tenured of our order. You will each recommend three candidates, and the order will vote on their inclusion.
“But not today. Today, we discuss the matter at hand, and only that.”
A few of the priests grumbled, but all nodded in agreement.
“Father Emilio,” Cardinal Bertolli continued. “You have battled the agents of the Prince several times recently. How do you feel we should respond?”
Father Emilio thought a moment. Images flashed through his mind: Carla from Cepagatti, the housekeeper from New York, the crazed Henri Cartier in Marseille…
Lauren grinning with manic delight as she aimed her gun at Raquel Donna’s head.
“I think we take the fight to him,” he replied. “We’ve been on the defensive thus far, and the Prince has only gotten stronger. It's time for us to strike while he's still vulnerable and we still have a chance to keep him bound. I suggest we move on the Knights of the True Faith and the cult of Asmodeus in New York and learn what we can about the Prince’s return.”
“And what makes you think they’ll talk to us?” Father Benjamin challenged.
“We make them talk,” Father Emilio said simply.
The room lapsed into silence. The priests considered Father Emilio’s words somberly. Finally, Cardinal Bertolli replied. “We must be careful not to act on fear, Father Emilio. I agree that we must be more abreast of the activities of the occult groups helping to bring the Prince to Earth, but I don’t believe we must resort to extraordinary techniques. We will send agents to watch the cults and report back. That will also allow us the element of surprise when we do strike.”
The other priests nodded in agreement, and Father Emilio, seeing he was outnumbered, kept silent.
The rest of the meeting was fairly mundane. One major decision was reached, a requirement that no exorcist perform without an assistant. It was a clear attempt to forestall any more murders, but Father Emilio kept in the back of his mind that Father Steinrich had an assistant and was still murdered.
Then again, Father Emilio had an assistant, and he was still here.
Lauren.
He said a brief prayer that she was all right and free of torment from the spirit that followed her. He was concerned for her first, but he was beginning to grow concerned for others. What he had seen in the belfry was far more sobering than any possession he had seen since Maria Buonaserra.
He felt a stab of guilt at the lie he’d told her. She had asked if she was possessed, and he had said no. It was, to his recollection, the first time he’d lied since taking his vows.
But would it really have helped her to know that she was possessed? Or would it simply hasten the process of erosion that ate away at her soul and left her open to the ravages of the enemy?
“Dismissed.”
Father Emilio started and realized that Cardinal Bertolli had called the meeting to a close. He stood, but before he could leave, Cardinal Bertolli called him. “Father Emilio, will you stay a moment, please?”
He bowed slightly and returned to his seat. When the last of the priests had filed out and the massive, sealed door had closed behind them, Cardinal Bertolli spoke. “How is Lauren doing?”
“She’s recovering well,” Father Emilio replied. “This was a challenging case for her, but she is resilient. She will be all right.” He smiled slightly. “She feared for my life more than hers, I believe.”
“Yes,” Cardinal Bertolli allowed, “but how is she?”
His eyes left no room for deflection. Father Emilio hesitated a moment, but eventually gave in. He had lied once already. He didn’t want to lie again. “She is in danger,” he admitted.
“How much danger?”
“Grave,” Father Emilio admitted reluctantly.
Cardinal Bertolli fell silent, his gray eyes boring into Father Emilio’s own. After a long moment, he said, “Should we consider replacing her?”
“No,” Father Emilio replied firmly. “She is far better off under my care.”
“There is more at stake than Lauren Lamb,” the Cardinal replied, “and more at stake than you or anyone else. You are our greatest asset if the Prince does return to Earth. You must be dedicated completely to the fight. Perhaps Miss Lamb should be allowed to recover in peace, and you should be assigned a junior priest as your partner."
“With respect, Cardinal,” Father Emilio replied. “I value Lauren’s presence on my investigations. Her perspective has proven crucial in the apprehension of the past four killers, not to mention to preserve my own life. I believe she is best utilized on these investigations.”
“But you aren’t,” Cardinal Bertolli insisted. “We need you ready to fight, Emilio.”
Father Emilio pursed his lips. “We must not jump at shadows Cardinal. Right now, Lauren and I are the best intelligence you have.”
“Yes,” the Cardinal agreed. “Why is that, I wonder?”
Lauren grinned and leveled the handgun at Donna’s head.
Father Emilio sighed. “The enemy will not leave her alone simply because we’re not watching her.”
“Why not? What is his obsession with her?”
LAUREN LAMB: NUN, PRODIGAL, WITNESS
