Part 20 (1/2)

”Absolutely,” Father Murphy said. He hurried out of the room and Eran heard water running-there must be a bathroom on this level. The priest came back with a plastic tumbler; when Brynna reached for it, Eran took it and knelt next to the bed so that he could hold her head while she sipped. When she'd finished the entire tumbler, he eased her head back and she sighed. ”Thank you. I just need to sleep now, so I can heal.” Her eyes were already closing before she finished the sentence. Changing the sheets was best left for another time.

Eran and the priest eased out of the room, and Father Murphy left the door open slightly. They'd walked only about five feet down the hall before the priest turned and fixed his stern gaze on Eran. ”We'll go upstairs,” he told Eran. ”I'll start some coffee. And you'll fill me in. On everything. everything. I'll keep an open mind and you won't leave anything out. Understand?” I'll keep an open mind and you won't leave anything out. Understand?”

Eran nodded. He wondered if the priest realized just how open his mind needed to be.

Twenty-two.

Brynna came awake with enough of a jerk to send a jagged swipe of pain through her ankles. Sitting up took a lot of effort, but it was worth it when the prize was the full tumbler of cool water on a small table next to the bed. She drank it all, forcing herself not to gulp when the first sensation of liquid on her tongue made thirst explode in her mouth. There was something else on the table, a small plate of tomato wedges and soft cheese; like the first sip of water, the initial taste of a tangy tomato wedge made her mouth water and her very empty stomach grumble.

After finis.h.i.+ng the simple meal, Brynna peered down at her feet. How long had she been here? She had a dim memory of Eran and someone else-a priest-bringing her in then was.h.i.+ng her burns, but there was nothing after that except shadows that occasionally lightened at the edges.

She was groggy, still tired in a way that told her she wasn't quite where she needed to be as far as healing was concerned. When her mind searched out the last memories she had before pa.s.sing out on this bed, she wasn't surprised. It had been quite the pyre, and her ankles and s.h.i.+ns were still raw and glistening, dribbling fluids that soaked into a thick pad below them. The burns climbed up her bare s.h.i.+ns, where they had finally started to heal just above her knees. She thought back to the burns she'd gotten from the Hunter's fireb.a.l.l.s right after she'd taken this human form, but there was really no comparison. Those had been not much more than grazes on the surface of her skin; this time, great chunks of flesh had been grilled right off her body. Damage like that didn't fix itself overnight, even for her.

So again, how long had she been here?

On the heels of that thought: Is Mireva all right?

Brynna ground her teeth and swung her legs over the side of the bed, hissing at the fresh misery that billowed up her nerve endings when her bare feet pressed against the floor. More memories were rea.s.serting themselves now: the priest helping Eran get her out of the car, the long, agonizing walk inside and down the stairs. She wasn't in the church proper but the rectory, where the priest and, sometimes, church employees lived and worked. Eran's choice had been excellent-it was a good place, a safe safe place. But now she had to get back to her apartment and find out about Mireva. place. But now she had to get back to her apartment and find out about Mireva.

Moving more slowly than she'd ever thought possible, Brynna worked her way to the door, then out into the hallway. The lower the burn on her body, the worse the pain; every step made her want to scream. But she would not give up, and she would not be stopped.

Brynna fixed her gaze on the staircase at the far end of what seemed like the longest hallway in the world, and headed toward it.

”GOING SOMEWHERE?”

Brynna turned a little too sharply and got a much nastier jolt up one of her ankles than she expected. She had been so intent on getting to the stairs that she hadn't paid attention to the two closed doors she'd pa.s.sed along the way. One must have opened onto a bathroom, and now Eran was standing just outside of it, drying his hands on a towel and looking at her like there was nothing in the world more ordinary than Brynna lurching down a bas.e.m.e.nt hallway while wrapped in a sheet.

”Yes,” she managed. ”Back h-home.”

”To your apartment?” He shook his head and draped the towel over the edge of the sink, then came toward her. ”Nope. Not a good idea.”

”Mireva-”

”Is fine. I've been in so much contact with Ramiro and Abrienda that they're starting to think I'm stalking them. In fact, I just talked to him about twenty minutes ago. They have family visiting for a week and their place is crammed with people. It's the perfect way to keep her safe. She hasn't been by herself in days.”

Days?

”How long ...”

Eran c.o.c.ked his head and let his gaze travel down to her swollen feet and blistered ankles. ”Four days. I'd say you're only about halfway there, Brynna. You need another four-at least-to get you back to preroasted condition.”

”Four days,” she echoed. Her shoulders sagged. That seemed like so long, and she didn't know if she was talking about how long she'd been out or how long she still needed to heal.

”Come on,” Eran said, and moved alongside her to guide her back the way she'd come. ”Back to bed with you. You've come a remarkable distance already-and completely freaked out Father Murphy, by the way-so let's not screw it up by moving too fast. Besides, Gavino knew where you lived and he probably told Lahash. I don't know if their kind collaborate with Hunters, but I'm willing to bet it's time for you to relocate.”

Not a pleasing thought, but she'd deal with that later. Besides, she wasn't going anywhere until the business of Mireva completing her divine task was finished. And right now she had to admit Eran was right. She was far too tired to do anything but go back to sleep.

”HOW IS SHE?” FATHER Murphy was sitting behind his oversized desk in the large, s.p.a.cious office directly off the entrance to the rectory. Sunlight shone through the translucent curtains at the windows, was.h.i.+ng over the old golden oak trim that surrounded the tall windows and built-in bookcases. Murphy was sitting behind his oversized desk in the large, s.p.a.cious office directly off the entrance to the rectory. Sunlight shone through the translucent curtains at the windows, was.h.i.+ng over the old golden oak trim that surrounded the tall windows and built-in bookcases.

”Good,” Eran answered. He settled himself onto the left one of two leather chairs facing the desk. This was the more comfortable of the pair and his favorite-he'd become very familiar with this office and its furnis.h.i.+ngs over the last four days. The matching couch centered on the wall opposite the windows was hard and cold, a b.i.t.c.h to sleep on even with a thick quilt as padding. Having done just that for the last four nights, Eran had yet to find a single yielding spot on the d.a.m.ned thing. ”She was awake when I went down, actually trying to leave. I sent her back to bed.”

The priest frowned. ”Leave? Why?”

”The girl,” Eran reminded him. ”Mireva. I told you the story.”

And he had, from start to finish ... except, of course, for certain details of the relations.h.i.+p between himself and Brynna. He wasn't sure what this Catholic priest would think of him once he learned that Eran had made love with a demon. Eran wasn't sure what he thought of himself himself.

”I'll have her out of here in a couple more days, I promise.”

Father Murphy pushed back from his desk and regarded Eran. He looked tired and older, as if the past few days, along with the knowledge he'd gained-if he believed it-had tripled the effects of gravity on him and dragged his skin downward. ”She can stay here as long as she needs to. I told you that.” he believed it-had tripled the effects of gravity on him and dragged his skin downward. ”She can stay here as long as she needs to. I told you that.”

Eran nodded. ”I know. But I get the feeling that you really don't believe anything I told you, and that means you think ... well, I don't know what you think. That I'm crazy, maybe. Delusional.” He paused as a new option occurred to him. ”Or that I hurt Brynna and brought her here to hide her or something.”

Father Murphy held up a hand. ”I don't think either of those things, but you're right in that I'm having a difficult time accepting the other things you talked about. Angels, demons-everything I've been taught is that these are elements of G.o.d's universe that are not seen by humans. They're taken on faith, faith, not personal experience. They may be in G.o.d's realm, but they don't exist in our reality. At least not anymore.” not personal experience. They may be in G.o.d's realm, but they don't exist in our reality. At least not anymore.”

”But what if they do, do, Father? Doesn't faith work the same way for that, too?” Father? Doesn't faith work the same way for that, too?”

”What do you mean?”

”You can't see see G.o.d, yet you have faith that He exists. Doesn't the fact that you haven't seen an angel or a demon in the flesh put them in the same category-beings believed in as a matter of faith, not fact?” G.o.d, yet you have faith that He exists. Doesn't the fact that you haven't seen an angel or a demon in the flesh put them in the same category-beings believed in as a matter of faith, not fact?”

Father Murphy's gaze was level. ”Every religion has a history upon which its faith is based.”

”An accounting of history is not necessarily factual,” Eran pointed out.

”Even so, the older a history is, the more that history serves serves as fact,” Father Murphy said. ”In this case, the Bible, or the Koran, or-” as fact,” Father Murphy said. ”In this case, the Bible, or the Koran, or-”

”You mean the less likely it is that there's any chance that anyone can prove it's not not fact,” Eran interrupted. ”As in 'I can't prove G.o.d exists, but you can't prove He doesn't.' The ultimate stalemate.” fact,” Eran interrupted. ”As in 'I can't prove G.o.d exists, but you can't prove He doesn't.' The ultimate stalemate.”

When the priest was silent, Eran sighed. ”Look, I know it must all sound crazy, and you're right-I don't have a written history or witnesses. But you see how quickly Brynna is healing. You have to admit that a normal person wouldn't be able to do that. Don't you think that's indicative that something's different here, or that it might at least be smart to consider the possibility that what I'm telling you is true?”

”If you're asking if I can accept that the woman downstairs is an extraordinarily rapid healer, then yes, I can do that. But the flipside is you telling me she's not human, that a trio of street criminals set her on fire in the alley and she changed into a demon in order to survive the attack. That she grew wings. wings.” When Eran started to say something, Father Murphy held up his hand. ”Then you go on to tell me tales of nephilim and serial killers and some kind of divine plan regarding the children of angels, and the deeper you go into your story, the more fantastic and outlandish it gets.”

”If you think I'm that d.a.m.ned insane, then why not tell me to get out?” Eran couldn't help the frustration in his voice. ”Or call the cops-my division captain, or just 911. Why put up with it?”

”I may not be an expert, but I've dealt with a lot of people and I really don't believe you're dangerous,” Father Murphy said. ”Or that you had anything to do with that woman's injuries. And frankly, it's not my job to judge. Only to help as best I can.”

Eran didn't know what else to say. If the priest wasn't going to believe him, there wasn't much he could do. It certainly wasn't like Brynna could snap her fingers and presto-change-o presto-change-o into the being she'd been in the alley. Or maybe she could. Even if she would, there were, provided he understood things correctly, real dangers a.s.sociated with doing just that. Dangers like the Hunter in the alley that could just as into the being she'd been in the alley. Or maybe she could. Even if she would, there were, provided he understood things correctly, real dangers a.s.sociated with doing just that. Dangers like the Hunter in the alley that could just as presto-change-o presto-change-o kill whoever got in its way. kill whoever got in its way.

He didn't know why it was so important that Father Murphy believe him, or what it would accomplish if he did. A sense of validation? Camaraderie? Or sanity? In any case, there was nothing the priest could do to help other than provide a sort of ”safe house” if they needed it. And even that wasn't permanent-they couldn't stay here forever.

”A couple more days,” Eran finally said. ”Then I think I can move her to my place.”

”And the men who attacked her? You said she's crossed them before.” Concern showed in Father Murphy's green eyes. ”If they learn she survived, they might try again.”

”Definitely a consideration. But I worked with Ramiro Cocinero, Mireva's uncle and the man who owns the taco place, and we identified two of them. My partner and I picked up both yesterday morning and charged them with attempted armed robbery. We're still looking for the leader, but there's an APB on him so it's just a matter of time.”