The Guardian (3 page)

“Some would say I am frightening to look at.”

“Yes, but once someone knows who, or I guess I should say
what
you are …” Father Vin waved his hand at him, pointing out his unique appearance.

“Still, I have this uncanny ability to unnerve some people.”

“Is that why you show yourself as ‘the boy’?”

“It is, at least until they get to know me.”

“Well, I must say those beasts were a hundred times scarier than anything you could ever appear as.” Father Vin stood to pace.

“My friend, I see those foul creatures everywhere I go. Do not be afraid. It seems you have been given the gift of protection.” “What do you mean? Look at me! I’m as frail as a brittle piece of paper!” Father Vin flung out his arms.

“I mean by being able to see them, you have been given a gift. You can protect yourself from them now. And if you know that they’re there, then you may well be able to protect—”

“Yes, yes, I see what you are saying.” He continued his trot back and forth. “But still, I abandoned him! I ran.” He sank down into the pew and ran his hand through his hair. “I am old, Sammael. I think it’s time I found an apprentice.”

“I would hardly say you are old, my friend. I’ve been here since … Well, let us just say you are not that old. Nevertheless, I understand your concern. That’s why I am here.”

“So, it’s time then?” A hint of disappointment colored his voice.

“Yes, I believe it is.”

“You know, every time you and I talk, inevitably someone comes in here and thinks I’m talking to myself. Maybe someday they’ll just commit me!”

“They could see me, too, if they would just open their eyes. All of your kind could. Don’t worry though. We won’t let them commit you until you find a suitable replacement!”

“Thanks! That’s just what I needed to hear!”

Sammael let out a chuckle. “Oh, and one other thing …”

“What’s that?”

“She’s been found.” “What! Are you kidding me! Where?” “She’s on her way to see him.” “Does she know?”

“I think that’s going to be left up to you and him.” “It doesn’t matter. We’ve found her.”

Sammael tilted his head and said, “She will not be that easy to convince. You have your work cut out for you.”

“She has to. She’s next in line. If she doesn’t, then who?”

“She will. It might just take some time.” “How do you know that?”

“Because, my friend, God has purposed it. It will come to pass.”

A
nna got out of the taxi, paid the driver, and then faced the sprawling old building in front of her. Mercy Hospital. This was it. This was where the boy told her to come. This was where he said her life would change forever. He said it was her destiny. Not to mention, she was about to talk to a man she thought had been dead for fifteen years.

After a stop at the information desk, she arrived in the intensive care unit where a nurse greeted her. “Can I help you?”

“I’m here to see Thomas Riley.”

“Are you family?”

“Ah … yes. Yes I am. I’m family.”

“And who would you be?”

“I’m Anna Riley, his granddaughter.”

“Granddaughter, huh?” the nurse asked hesitantly.

“That’s right,” Anna said.

The nurse softened her face and sighed. “Ms. Riley, I’m afraid your grandfather has passed away.”

Anna felt as if someone had punched her in the stomach. What little bit of hope or anticipation that she’d allowed herself in coming here had been stripped without warning. Suddenly, she felt alone.

“When? I don’t understand,” she said. “The boy—he told me to come. He said it was—I don’t understand.”

“About an hour ago. I’m sorry, Ms. Riley. We’ve been looking for any family. Trying to get in touch with someone.”

“What happened?” Anna asked. “How long has he been here?”

“You don’t know?”

“We haven’t kept in touch.” Boy, was that an understatement.

“He’s been here for about a week.” The nurse walked behind her desk and grabbed a manila folder. The tab on the top had the words “John Doe” scratched out and “Thomas Riley” written under it.

“John Doe?” Anna was confused. “What’s that mean?”

“When they brought him in, he had no ID on him and no one was with him. He was unconscious, and we didn’t know who he was. Just a formality.”

“How did he get here?”

“Ambulance.”

“Okay. Let’s back up.” Anna ran her hands through her hair. The long night, the flight, and lack of sleep were beginning to take their toll on her. “I haven’t seen my grandpa since I was six. To be honest, I didn’t even really know he was still alive.” She put up a hand to forestall the questions forming in the nurse’s face. “Don’t ask. Long story. Anyway, I have no idea what’s going on. All I was told is that he was here. So, can you just … fill me in or something?”

The nurse nodded with a soft smile and offered her a seat. “I’ll tell you as much as I know, but that isn’t a lot.”

Anna sat down beside her and waited to hear what was going on.

“About a week ago,” she said, “a man came in here in an ambulance. No ID. They said they picked him up in Point Park. He had been beaten and stabbed numerous times. A witness called an ambulance, but no one but your grandfather was there when the EMS got there.”

“Oh my gosh!”

“He was rushed here and immediately taken into surgery. The trauma team worked on him for a while, and then he flatlined. He was gone for nearly four minutes before they were able to revive him and stabilize him. They brought him out of surgery and sent him up here. He’s been in and out of consciousness since then. And then a little over an hour ago …”

“But I thought you said they stabilized him.”

“Ms. Riley, your grandfather suffered some very traumatic wounds. To be honest, it’s kind of surprising that he was able to hold on as long as he did.”

Anna nodded. “So what now? What’s going to happen to his body? Can I see him?”

The nurse patted her on the hand. “Sure you can. I’ll take you to his room.” She stood and motioned for Anna to follow. “His body is being released to Rome. There is a man here from the Vatican right now filling out the proper paperwork. The body should be ready for transport in just a few minutes.”

“Rome?” Anna asked, as the nurse opened the door to her grandfather’s room. “Why Rome? That doesn’t make—”

As she entered the room, a man writing on a clipboard and wearing a priest’s collar looked up and smiled.

He stepped close and extended his hand. “Hello, Anna. I’ve been looking for you. My name is Father Vincent Marcella.”

C
ardinal Louis Wickham sat in his study drinking a warm glass of brandy. Actually, Cardinal Louis Wickham sat deep inside the shell of a body that was once his.

Many years ago he had been a prominent member of his order. He was on the fast track to becoming pope. The only problem was, he lacked something very important: faith. He believed in the Almighty, sure. He even believed in the Holy Trinity. That was not the issue. The issue was that he couldn’t control his ambitions. He had a very weak spirit and refused to give the control over to God. And because of that, he found himself involved in things that the church could never agree with. He constantly gave in to temptation. He was full of pride. He only thought of himself and how
he
benefited in every situation. Quite simply, he was a lost soul.

One evening when he should have been in a prayer session with the rest of his brothers, he drank himself into oblivion, where he was approached by a strange man. The man was very sophisticated.

He spoke eloquently and wore a fine hand-tailored suit. He had warm, deep blue eyes and a smile creasing his lips that would invite anyone to talk to him. He made Louis feel comfortable just sitting there talking, telling him his life story. Before long, they had switched from scotch to champagne, and he and the man were entertaining three ladies. It was that night that the cardinal became someone, or something, different.

The man spoke of unlimited power and control. He convinced Cardinal Wickham that if he worked for him, he would be rewarded in a way that the church could never do. This man literally promised him the world, a world that was here and now, not some fantasy of something promised by the church. The cardinal, being drunk and loose of his senses, readily agreed. The man took him outside the pub and into the alley. He told the cardinal to get on his knees, bow, and call him Master. The cardinal did. And at that moment, a shockwave of energy ripped throughout his body, like a lightning bolt had coursed through his veins. The man that was once Cardinal Louis Wickham seemed to fall into a deep pit inside his own body. He could see out, but it was like watching a movie. He was no longer able to control what happened on the outside. He had been imprisoned. The saddest part of it all was that he knew it. And he realized that he did it of his own free will. The ice consumed him and became who he was. And he had let it happen.

Now, thirty years later, he sat in front of his fireplace a vile, corrupt man. And he was upset. He was more than upset. He was furious. And rightly so.

He’d spent the better part of ten years trying to find Thomas Riley. Well, actually his men had. He did nothing more than give the orders and finance the work. But the call finally came. They had found him. Years of following the man around the globe, always two steps behind him, and where do they actually get him? His hometown of all places! And after all the years of searching, what do they find? Nothing! A big, fat nothing! Those stupid idiots!

They had been told time and time again that the old man had something he needed. He told them not to harm him until they had it. Bumbling idiots! That’s all they were. The old man was dead, and he still didn’t have the scroll. And now he would have to answer for his—their—incompetence.

The phone rang and startled him. He set down his glass of brandy and reached for the receiver. “Hello?”

“I need to speak to you.”

“I told you to never call me on this line.”

“It’s about the old man.”

Cardinal Wickham’s grip tightened on the phone as he sat up in his chair. “Meet me in twenty minutes. You know where.” He hung up the phone and stood, his back rigid. He walked out of his study and into his private chamber. Ten minutes later he had changed clothes and was on his way out the door.

Mad Jack’s Irish Pub, Rome

Cardinal Wickham made his way to the bar and ordered a Guinness. He paid the bartender and turned to find his usual table in the back of the room. He took off his hat and began to sip his drink. Less than a minute later, a tall, slender man wearing all black scooted in beside him.

“Hello, Cardinal.” The man set down his beer beside the cardinal’s.

Cardinal Wickham squeezed the man’s arm as he spoke in a hushed voice. “Do not call me that in here!”

“Relax, Louis.” The man removed the cardinal’s hand from his arm. “This isn’t exactly the type of place where people go looking to make friends. They couldn’t care less if you were the pope!” He laughed, taking a big gulp of his ale.

“So you have news for me?” Wickham looked around to make sure no one was listening.

“He’s alive.” The man held his arms out in a “Go figure!” gesture.

“What happened?” asked the cardinal. “And I mean everything! You and your goons have put me in a very dangerous position.” Wickham took a long pull from his beer and waited for his associate’s answer.

“Well, you see, Louis. I
can
call you Louis, right?” Wickham rolled his eyes at the use of his first name. “Like I said, we just happened to run into him. Literally!” The man laughed again at his own humor. “I mean, we’re walking out of his apartment. He had his head buried in some newspaper, walking down the street, and
boom!
I walked right into him. Or rather, he walked right into me.”

“That’s very interesting,” Wickham snapped. “When do we get to the part where you almost killed him without getting me what you were sent to get in the first place?”

“I think you need another Guinness, Louis.” The man’s tone was threatening. “You know, you should really watch how you talk to people. One of these days, it’s going to get you in trouble. Remember what I do for a living?”

“Go on,” Wickham said. He tried to relax a little bit as he shifted in his seat.

The man let his last statement hang in the air for effect before continuing. “As I was saying, we ran into him. Of course, he had no idea who we were, and we were so shocked it was him that we just kept walking, so as not to draw any attention to ourselves.” The man took another drink. “So we saw him go into his building. We decided we’d just keep an eye on him. A few hours later, he left again. We followed him to the park. That’s when we tried to take him.”

“What do you mean tried?” Wickham asked.

“When we approached him, he freaked out. We tried to subdue him, but he kept yelling. One of my men pulled his knife to try to scare the old man into shutting his mouth. Somehow the situation got out of control. One of my
former
employees, and I stress
former
, accidentally stabbed him. He kept yelling, ‘They’re trying to kill me! They’re trying to kill me!’ About that time, that priest showed up. He pulled a gun and started shooting. We had to abort. We couldn’t risk getting caught. Anyway, the next time I see him, I’m gonna tape his mouth shut.”

“And when do you think that is going to be?”

“Soon. He’s in the hospital right now.”

“So go to the hospital and get him.”

“I can’t.” “Why not?” “There are guards.”

“Dispose of them. You have my permission.” “These are not normal guards.” “How do you mean?”

“I mean, they are about seven feet tall, and they are wearing some weird kind of armor. Not to mention, they’re extremely fierce-looking, like special forces or something. It would take a small army to take them out. I have no idea how this man rates having that kind of security. I’ve never seen anything like them before.”

“No, I imagine you haven’t. I’m surprised you can see them at all.”