A Fall of Silver (27 page)

Or perhaps Kethan was just cynical
, and maybe Father Connolly truly didn’t remember him.

Right
.

N
egotiating had taught Kethan to rely on his instincts. His gut told him that Father Connolly remembered him quite well. The cool, detached priest simply decided not to acknowledge him as a reminder that Kethan had abandoned the church and his friends. Kethan was an outsider, now, and needed to remember that.

When they
arrived at the study, Kethan found the Cardinal speaking softly with another man he recognized as Bishop Agonston. The Cardinal greeted him and gestured to a chair in the center of the room, a few feet away from him. Then he returned his attention to Bishop Agonston. The thin, precise man with the manner of a fussy librarian leaned forward, his eyes intent on the Cardinal’s face as he spoke softly.

After a few minutes
, the Cardinal nodded and waited in placid silence until the Bishop left and closed the door quietly in his wake.

The Cardinal’s
expression grew more solemn as Kethan stood behind the empty chair facing the Cardinal. “Mr. Hilliard.”

The cold growing in
Kethan’s lower belly reached his heart, clenching it in a cold, sharp grip. “Your Eminence.”

Despite the late hour, the Cardinal was dressed formally in crisp clothes
smelling of the combined scents of spray starch and the hot iron. He sat in an ornate wooden chair that looked like a throne while a noticeably plain metal chair stood on the other side of a low, round mahogany table in the center of the room. A worn bible lay on the surface of the small table, along with a prayer book and rosary.

“Sit
, please,” the Cardinal said at last, his dark eyes cold. Every wrinkle in his face deepened into a frown. When Kethan didn’t respond, the Cardinal declined his head and waved to the chair in front of him.

T
he feeling of being called to the principal’s office for punishment coursed through Kethan. The Cardinal was the only other man in the Church who was aware that the undead truly existed, and he had never been happy about it.

“I understand
Father Donatello is missing,” Kethan said.

The Cardinal’s heavy mouth worked as if he tasted something sour. “This situation is one of your making, not ours. Father Donatello made the decision to undertake negotiations using your services after Martyn Sutton contacted him. He convinced me that this was an opportunity we could not ignore.”

That wasn’t accurate, was it? Hadn’t they contacted the vampires first and initiated the negotiations to end the recent bloodshed? Why would the vampires, led by Martyn Sutton, come to the Church for any reason? They were hereditary enemies, at least those few in the Church who believed the undead existed.

“Mr. Sutton contacted Father Donatello
first?” Kethan asked.

“Yes.” After a pause obviously intended to encourage Kethan to recognize the error of his ways, the Cardinal continued in a dry voice, “He convinced us it would be the
Christian
thing to do. I was aware of your...peculiar circumstances. In view of that, I had to agree.” His mouth turned down at the corners in disgust. “Although it amounts to little more than making a deal with the devil.”

“Your concerns are legitimate,
however I’d like to focus on the current issue, if possible. I spoke to Father Donatello just an hour ago. When did you discover he was missing? Have you searched the grounds? Could he have gone for a walk?”

“Father Connolly heard the phone ring. When he passed Father Donatello’s room, he found the door open and the room empty. He
came to me in a panic, indicating it was as if Father Donatello had been taken from his very bed. The blankets were rumpled, and there was blood on the sheets.” Crimson splotched spread over his sharp cheekbones as the distaste on his face deepened into anger as crimson.

“You searched for him?”

“Of course. We have conducted a search of the premises. His car is still here.”

“Do
you believe he was kidnapped? Or killed?”

“We are…unsure. Although, I’m increasingly convinced these negotiations can only end in disaster.”
He rubbed the center of his forehead. “I let Father Donatello convince me—something I now regret.”

“
Father Donatello’s original goals are still of value. Controlling interactions between humans and vampires will reduce the violence and it offers a second chance to those who regret their decision. Some souls can still be saved.”

“
While I understand your interest in that aspect, the facts remain. They are evil creatures and allies of the devil, not the church.”

“Then we should take this chance to make them our allies.” Kethan felt his temper slipping. The man in front of him seemed to prefer to argue philosophy while Father Donatello might be
bleeding to death somewhere. “Have you heard from anyone? Any demands? Ransom?”

“No
, and that alarms me. There has been no word from Mr. Sutton, and we fear he may not be responsible.”

“Who else? Who could possibly dislike Father Donatello enough to harm him?”

The Cardinal’s voice grew colder. “Father Donatello recently reported to me that he had new information concerning the reason for Martyn Sutton’s initial overtures to the church. Mr. Sutton may have approached us, not because of our fight against his kind, but because of pressure from the south.”

“Pressure from the south?” Kethan stared at him, his mind
whirring uselessly as he tried to evaluate the implications of the Cardinal’s words.

“H
e didn’t have details, or at least none he shared with me. However, a Spanish-speaking vampire was apprehended recently by another priest. The creature refused to speak and died shortly thereafter.”

Meaning the
priest had questioned him vigorously and the vampire had died before divulging anything of import, Kethan thought bitterly. Quicksilver was wrong if she thought the Church always approached the issue of vampires with open hands, an open heart, and soft words.

M
ost members of the Church adamantly refused to believe vampires existed at all, and the highest authorities fostered that notion. Of those few who knew the truth, many remained convinced that any negotiation with vampires was the work of the devil. The Cardinal officially supported the side that said demons, possession, and the undead did not exist. However, in private, he at least listened to Father Donatello and Kethan.

“Unfortunately,” the Cardinal continued, “there is little beyond what we have just divulged to you. Th
ose are the rumors that Father Donatello was investigating concerning a new clan. If the reports are true and this foreign clan is putting the pressure on Sutton’s group, then perhaps Martyn Sutton panicked, feeling crushed between this southern clan and hunters like that woman you are protecting. Have you considered that he may have contacted us for those reasons? If he’s caught between the two enemies, then we have a dangerous situation. Trapped animals behave irrationally and violently.”

“You believe that rumor is true
, then? Do you believe this other group of vampires is responsible for Father Donatello’s disappearance?”

“It is possible,” the Cardinal answered reluctantly.
“Or it may be that Sutton, himself, feels frustrated by the process and is trying to expedite matters. In any event, we shall call the authorities and see if they can find Father Donatello before it is too late.”

Calling anyone
would be a disaster. Most humans refused to believe in the undead and bringing strangers into the mix would be more likely to cause Joe’s death than save him.

“
Please, let me investigate,” Kethan said. “Give me a chance before you call anyone else.”

This time, the Cardinal made no effort to hide the dislike hardening his face. “It’s more complex than you understand or ever understood.” He steepled his fingers in front of his mouth. “You have placed us in a difficult position.
You left the orders and then instituted this impossible scheme. How can we trust you? You may have decided the church is no longer important to you and reacquainted yourself with your old friends. Vampires are the enemies of humans and always will be.” He held up a hand when Kethan stiffened, furious at the implication that he would deliberately betray Joe. “You may have compromised the negotiations or initiated the events that have resulted in Father Donatello’s absence.”

“I would never betray the
Church or Father Donatello.” Kethan worked to keep his voice low and calm. “He trusted me—”

“He was a trusting man. Some thought, too trusting.”

“I’d never betray him, or you.” Kethan’s face was so stiff with anger he could barely speak.

“I haven’t
spoken of these matters outside this room,” the Cardinal said, his voice cold and unyielding, “and as I promised, I will not. However, silence doesn’t change the fact that you were a vampire for over four hundred years. You may have saved Father Donatello and regained your soul, but that doesn’t change the facts. Despite common sense, your actions may have prejudiced Father Donatello in your favor and convinced him to participate in these negotiations with you as the facilitator.

“
I am not as enthusiastic or so easily persuaded as Father Donatello. I told him I opposed not only the talks, but to your role in them, as well. One can be too close to the issue to mediate successfully, and your reasons for leaving the priesthood were vague, much too vague to reassure me.”

Kethan shifted uncomfortably, his chest tight, waiting for the bad news he knew was coming. “If you don’t trust me, why
call me when he went missing?”

“Because you may still be willing to help Father Donatello, in spite of your
perverse sympathies.”

“
Well, you are right there. I would do anything to help him.” The tense muscles in Kethan’s jaw compressed his words into bricks. His fury almost made him forget the importance of the man sitting across from him, judging him, and waiting for him to prove that he was untrustworthy and sided with the undead.

Would he ever find forgiveness for that one mistake?
While he had been a vampire for four hundred years, he’d spent the time rebellious and bitter after realizing the emptiness of his shadow life. When the opportunity arose, he’d been glad, almost relieved, to give his life to save a human, particularly one as kind as Father Donatello.

The act had
resulted in an unexpected and initially unwanted chance to reclaim his immortal soul, and in that moment of grace he realized one thing: he had to give others that same opportunity.

Only
Father Donatello, the man who had listened to and accepted Kethan’s confession, understood the reason behind Kethan’s drive to find a way to live with vampires in peace.

“Give us a reason to trust you
. You’re a recidivist who chose to leave the church,” the Cardinal said.

“
I didn’t abandon the church. I lacked the vocation.” He focused on breathing evenly and keeping his voice reasonable.

Recidivist.
The appellation burned more than the Cardinal’s mistrust. The Cardinal used the term for men who gave up their immortal, vampiric life to become mortal again, like ravening wolves changing back into sheep.

Kethan was sure the Cardinal had deliberately chosen a term
laden with negative connotations because he did not believe anyone could truly repent or change: an unforgiving attitude for someone in such a high position in a church that promised divine forgiveness if one confessed his sins and repented. Although to be fair, Kethan was almost positive that he was the only “recidivist” the Cardinal knew, or knew of. Most likely, the Cardinal thought he was an anomaly and that such a thing would never happen again.

The Cardinal glanced away as if bored. “Non
etheless, those creatures are your friends.”

“
No. I was never a member of the Lost Colonist clan.”
The Lost Colonists
, a group of men and women who’d disappeared at Roanoke, Virginia, sometime between their initial landing in 1587 and White’s return to the colony in 1590.

The unfortunate group
formed the core of Sutton’s clan, and Martyn Sutton had been one of the colonists. He’d endured the hardships of the journey to the new world only to be attacked and converted by a master vampire. Then, a few months ago, the clan’s leader had died at the hand of another recidivist, leaving Sutton to claim the title of master.

The Cardinal waved a hand to cut off
Kethan’s protests. “Your actions will determine if we continue these negotiations. Find Father Donatello. Then determine if there is truth to the rumors of a southern clan.” His eyes glittered with anticipation, delighting in the prospect of ending the talks and Kethan’s interference in Church matters. The Cardinal could finally go back to the Church’s official position that the undead did not exist and rest easy. “If you betray us, Mr. Sutton would be well advised to leave this area with his clan. I
will
resume my cleansing activities. Some of our priests may be experts at debate, but they also have training in the use of the sword and the stake, and they aren’t recidivists.”