“Remind him that Marid called me Regina Luporum.”
He bowed his head at that.
I continued. “You need a ride anywhere? Change of clothes?”
“No. I’ll get out of your hair just as soon as I can.”
“Appreciate it,” I said.
Hauling himself to his feet, he gave me one last flash of his beefy body—on purpose I was sure—then tipped a salute at me, another one off to the edge of the park where Ben was waiting, and walked away. He looked odd, a well-built guy walking across the scrubby grass with a blanket over his shoulders and clasped around his middle. If any cops spotted him, he’d get picked up for sure. On the other hand, he’d probably avoid getting spotted by anyone.
I walked back to the car, and Ben met me halfway.
“Now can we go home and get some sleep?” he asked.
“After we drop off Shaun.”
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“I don’t think anyone can accuse you of being an inattentive alpha after all this.”
That wasn’t really the main point of all this, but I’d take it.
Back at the condo, I was too hyped up to sleep, but Ben coaxed me into bed. Not that he had to coax too much, offering his warm body to cuddle with. His safe, familiar scent in my nose, his warm naked skin against mine, made the world a better place. A few minutes of contact was worth an hour of sleep. For a short time, I didn’t think about Darren, worry about Rick or my sister, or Roman, or anything. I even slept, for a little while. That was enough, at least for now.
I had to wait until nightfall anyway, before I could talk to Rick, at least one more time.
Chapter 18
BEN DIDN’T trust Darren to just leave, and I agreed. The guy had acted defeated enough this morning, but he might have some other plan cooked up. Ben offered to drive past the apartment where Darren had been living to check. Even if it meant leaving me alone.
I grinned. “Aw, does that mean you’re not worried about me spontaneously shape-shifting anymore?”
“I’ll always worry. But after last night, I think you’ll be fine.”
That left me to go talk with Rick. It was Ben who suggested Rick might be more forthcoming if I showed up by myself. I hadn’t considered that. The theory was sound, might as well give it a try.
I arrived at St. Cajetan before dusk, early enough that the main doors were still open, and I got inside.
What used to be the church’s main hall had been converted into an auditorium, but signs of what the space used to be were evident. A wide, domed ceiling in back would have arced over an altar. Simple stained glass filled the windows along the walls on either side. Any religious symbols had been removed. No crosses, no statuary. Folding chairs and tables had been set up as if for a meeting, and two people, one of them with a clipboard, were discussing a schedule. They glanced at me, and I gave a quick smile and left to explore the rest of the building. Stairs led up to a choir loft, which seemed to be used as a storage area for folding tables and cardboard boxes.
The halls and stairways I moved through smelled simple, bureaucratic. Carpets, fresh paint, lots of bodies moving back and forth. The smell of vampire pervaded, but faintly. They could have been anywhere. Stairs led down. The basement held offices for the geology and paleontology departments. A room had been converted to a museum with hundreds of dinosaur-track fossils and casts of fossils. The vampires weren’t here, either. Their hiding place, where they spent their days asleep, was very well hidden. So, I had to wait.
Time passed, the light outside the windows faded. People left the building, locked up after themselves. Nobody checked for strays, so I was able to stay. If I couldn’t convince Rick to stay in Denver, maybe I could convince Father Columban that he was needed here. Then maybe Columban would convince him to stay, since he was the one Rick seemed to be listening to now.
I made another circuit of the building, upstairs and through offices, calling as I went. “Rick? Father Columban? We need to talk.”
Even if they were here, if they didn’t want to talk to me, they didn’t have to. At least I tried.
I returned to the auditorium one more time before heading out, and there they were. Two figures straight out of a gothic novel, the brooding hero in his fitted T-shirt and jeans, the priest in his dark cassock, side by side, standing under the arched roof, watching me. I approached, feeling a bit like I was on trial.
“Hi,” I said, my echoing voice making me even more uncomfortable. “I just want to talk. Rick, I don’t know if there’s anything I can say to convince you how much you’re needed here, that would convince you to stay—”
“If something happened to me, you’d all carry on without me, one way or another,” he said.
“Yeah, I suppose you could say that about pretty much anyone. I’m talking ideals here. Father Columban—can’t Rick join your order and still stay here?”
“He has a mission,” Columban said. “You would not understand.”