In the Lord's House

[Alex]

Father Auryon stood behind the altar of the St. Louis Cathedral, still dressed in his green vestments representing ordinary time. Ordinary time – that certainly was not what he thought of the last few weeks. But the Society of Leopold’s training had been clear. We battled in the dark, so that the faithful could live in God’s love and light. His burden was one he had taken joyously, and it was not for the lay people to bear. Yes, by now most of God’s children knew that the undead walked among them. But it was better that they think of the damned as a curiosity. An amusement best left avoided. Civilians and amateurs simply didn’t have the training that was offered to men such as he. And without that training, well…the Blood Hunts had claimed far more innocent men and women than Vampires. It was the Leopolders and their allies in the FBI, CIA, and Interpol who had inflicted the greatest wounds upon those who had rejected God’s light.

Speaking of those who had rejected God, the venerable old priest looked up at the sound of the Cathedral doors opening. Normally they were locked after the 10PM Mass, but he had left them open. The Cathedral was one of the few places in the city he knew to be unmonitored. That did not mean he enjoyed the presence of a sinner such as Roger Anderson walking in his Sanctuary. It was not that Auryon loathed the sinful – those who lived in error and failed, as we all do, in the eyes of God deserved love and compassion. Even the damned, whom Auryon sought to blot from the Earth, did not bring their Condition upon themselves. He prayed that those he slew would find Salvation in their demise. But Roger was not a sinner of circumstance. He was a sinner of intent, a gambler, a womanizer, a drunk, and a thief. He was a test, in the Priest’s eyes. Sent by God to teach him that even the wicked could be used as instruments of Grace.

“Father,” Roger said, bowing his head. “I’m sure Mass was beautiful.”

“You are welcome to see for yourself at any time, Roger,” Auryon replied. The executive laughed. They both knew how unlikely that was. “In any case,” the priest said, taking the gentle mockery in stride. “If you are here, I assume you were successful in recruiting our companions.”

“Of course, Auryon,” Roger said. At least the old fool was effective. “Ms. Ortega was most interested to hear what had cost her the contract. And Mr. Mehta is never difficult to find.”

“And Mr. Northam?” Auryon said.

“Refused to take my calls,” he said. “He has always been a force unto himself.”

“Regretful,” Auryon said. The FBI were good enough as allies, but they sometimes laid bare the reason the Mother Church could not entrust the safety of the flock to governments. They valued their territory and jurisdiction above righteousness. He had never known a different response from Francis Northam – his connections through the Society had told him the man was uninterested in “foreign intervention” on American soil.

“Indeed,” Roger replied. “But I think our current company will be sufficient.”

The doors to the Cathedral opened again, and a small woman entered the Cathedral. Her suit was jet black and shiny. Her hair was short and dark. Her shoulders were broad. And her figure was stocky. Adelita Ortega, he recognized, the CEO of Firebird Solutions. She strode into the Church as though she, not God, was sovereign here. There was none of Roger’s deference in her stride. Grace from sinners, the old man told himself.

“Father Auryon,” she said. “I’d say we’re well met, but I confess that churches and I don’t see eye-to-eye in terms of my chosen lifestyle.”

“I assure you, Ms. Ortega,” the priest said, approaching to shake her hand. “The Lord welcomes all who seek to bring an end to wickedness in this world.” Ortega did not take his offered hand, and the holy man gave up.

“I’m not interested in righteousness,” Ortega said. “I’m interested in the people who cost me several billion dollars’ worth of a security contract. To say nothing of all the bribes and kickbacks we sank down the drain.”

The door opened once again, and now Pratik walked in – stopping for a moment to dab holy water on his head. The tall, Indian-descended man was the least offensive of his partners. Pratik offered a weak smile as he shook Auryon’s hand, clasping it in his own. “Thank you for having me, Father,” he said, looking to Adelita. “I take it you’re informing our prospective partner as to what happened the other night.”

“I am about to, Councilman,” he said, returning his attention to Adelita. “In this case, it just so happens that your pursuit of revenge and the cause of righteousness were one in the same. Your business interests were not the victim of some mortal political scheme, and at least not directly by one launched by your business opponents.” Adelita looked up, playing at being bored – uninterested. The priest had to give the young woman respect if nothing else. She carried herself with experience she didn’t have. “While at your ill-fated event last weekend, I encountered a man I know for a fact to be a Vampire, one of the damned.”

“As did I,” Roger said. “The woman I saw – Catherine Chevalier. The woman who stole my wife from me.” Roger ground his teeth, his face turning red with angry. “And at this point, I think it’s fair to say that the Frenchman who accosted Councilman Mehta is among their number.”

Adelita nodded but remained silent. Like most people she knew that Vampires walked the night and drank Blood. She had heard whispers of their intrigues and plots. But this was the first time their games had touched her, and she was not amused.

“Even so,” Adelita finally replied. “What difference does it make? Whether it was proper corporate sabotage or Vampires who infiltrated my operation, poisoned my guests, and cost Firebird Solutions the contract.” Adelita stepped forward. “I’m going to assume you three have been embroiled in this situation for some time, and you have nothing to show for it.”

“Our means, Ms. Ortega, have been limited,” Auryon explained. “And our leads scant. It is rare that we come upon actionable information, and rarer still that we can act on it. Roger’s financial support has been generous, but it has only allowed us to keep the lights on at the Committee for Public Safety. Mr. Mehta has attempted to bring our voice to the city government, but the damned are wealthy. They are connected. And he is one man.” Auryon began to pace now. “It was my hope that the Committee on its own would be able to, with a concerted effort, drive them from their webs of influence. We could strike at their power first, and then eliminate them once they were vulnerable. But the recent catastrophe has convinced me that is not possible. More direct measures are required.”

“You want to kill them,” Adelita said, picking up where the priest left off.

“The Lord God commands it,” Auryon said. “And whether you believe in his Truth or not, you saw for yourself the odious influence the damned hold. Ordinary men and women will struggle in a world where the undying are able to play their foul games.”

“And you believe I will help you kill them,” Adelita continued. She smirked. “Because on your own you don’t have enough money,” she shot a glare at Roger. “Enough clout,” she stared at Pratik. “Or enough faith,” she looked at the priest. “For your big sky daddy to strike them down. Is that correct?” Auryon gritted his teeth at the woman’s insults towards his faith but calmed himself. God was good. The Lord was testing him once again. To find virtue in even the most wretched of sinners.

“The Lord wishes to see me tested,” he said simply, nonetheless giving a deferential nod. “Where faith has failed, He calls upon us to take on the flame.” Auryon looked at her more pointedly now. “I will not offer you a Salvation that you are uninterested in, Ms. Ortega. But a city without the damned is a city where you will no longer be held back by their machinations. One where your talents will no longer be wasted in games being played by those who never die.” Auryon shrugged. “If you do not want Grace in the next world, will power on Earth suffice?”

Adelita looked between the three men. It was the first time she had been in the presence of a priest who was not the saddest man in the room. He knew what she wanted, and he did not offer her anything but that. Adelita wanted revenge. She wanted the power and money that would allow her to avenge herself upon the creatures who had wronged her. If this holy man was willing to work with someone he found as contemptible as her, she was willing to do the same…