Coming Together
Posted: Tue Dec 07, 2021 9:52 am
Father Auryon waited until he had briskly walked two blocks from the Bourbon Vieux before he ducked into an alley to tend to his own wounds. He looked himself over. He had mild burns on his neck where the blood-witch had spat her foul ichor on him. He had fang-marks in his shoulder. And his hand bore some curious markings - he would almost describe them as freezer-burn. It was nothing he wouldn't heal up on his own, though. God, in his mercy, had steeled Auryon's body, mind, and soul against the damned. His faith had shielded him from attacks that would have brought a swift and painful death to most mortals. Physically, he would recover.
It wasn't Auryon's body that needed tending to. It was his mind and his soul. While the Lord protected him from the wrath of the damned, He had not been so kind with the daggers of the living. With the focus of combat cleared from his mind Auryon felt the seething anger return. Pratik had told him that Juliet was a fellow Hunter of the damned. Perhaps not a woman of God, but a party with power over them. Someone who knew how to drive them back into their dark holes. The more Auryon thought, the more warning signs he saw. The night-time meetings. The curious and slightly archaic accent. The blithe disregard she held for all things. Her arrogance. Auryon would work with the sinful to protect God's children from the wrath of immortals. But to ask him to trade one monster for another was too much. And Pratik had known it was too much. That's why the Councilman had invoked the serpent's blessing to mankind. Why Pratik had lied to him.
Auryon spent a time dressing his wounds. They didn't pain him overly, but the rote and physical processes gave him time to think. Perhaps Pratik and Roger were desperate enough to work with the damned to settle their scores. But Auryon would not. He would not be a pawn in the wars between the undead. He would not be their chess-piece. For a time he thought the Council for Public Safety would be the imperfect vessel for his holy mission and his vengeance against the Vampires who wronged him so long ago. But tonight it had been made clear to him that the CPS was one more catspaw for Vampires. Perhaps it had not always been that. Perhaps it had started with good intentions. But the damned and their agents brought only suffering wherever they went.
He thought back to the night that the alliance he now abandoned had been forged in God's house. The challenge that the Lord had laid before him. To find virtue in the sinful and turn them into blades for righteousness. And while it wounded his pride to admit it, he knew the exact sinner to wield against the CPS. He finished dressing his wounds and walked east. Sometime later he came to a condominium building and looked for the unit with shutters over the windows.
He walked up to Agent Francis Northam's door and knocked.
There was a momentary pause. The sound of footsteps. Of a slit opening over the peephole. Then the intercom on the front door crackled to life.
"I won't even ask how you found me," Northam said into it.
"The shutters were rather conspicuous," Auryon replied. They both knew that the Society of Leopold had little trouble finding one federal agent's home. Auryon tried to sound calm, but the strain on his voice couldn't be hidden.
"Gotta take hurricanes seriously," Northam said. "So is this business or pleasure? I assume that since you knocked you don't want to throw down."
"Never," Auryon said. "Not with the children of God."
A moment passed, and Auryon heard the door lock click. Northam opened the door, dressed in an FBI T-shirt and pajama pants. "Then what is your business?" He asked.
Auryon sighed. Pride was perhaps the greatest of the Deadly Sins, but one that no man was free from. But God did not call man not to sin. Sin was in their nature. He called them to rise above their sins. He was humiliated to be here. To admit that he had been wrong. But righteousness called for him to show humility if he was to prevail against the damned. Another lesson, another gift from God.
"I believe I have a lead for your investigation."
It wasn't Auryon's body that needed tending to. It was his mind and his soul. While the Lord protected him from the wrath of the damned, He had not been so kind with the daggers of the living. With the focus of combat cleared from his mind Auryon felt the seething anger return. Pratik had told him that Juliet was a fellow Hunter of the damned. Perhaps not a woman of God, but a party with power over them. Someone who knew how to drive them back into their dark holes. The more Auryon thought, the more warning signs he saw. The night-time meetings. The curious and slightly archaic accent. The blithe disregard she held for all things. Her arrogance. Auryon would work with the sinful to protect God's children from the wrath of immortals. But to ask him to trade one monster for another was too much. And Pratik had known it was too much. That's why the Councilman had invoked the serpent's blessing to mankind. Why Pratik had lied to him.
Auryon spent a time dressing his wounds. They didn't pain him overly, but the rote and physical processes gave him time to think. Perhaps Pratik and Roger were desperate enough to work with the damned to settle their scores. But Auryon would not. He would not be a pawn in the wars between the undead. He would not be their chess-piece. For a time he thought the Council for Public Safety would be the imperfect vessel for his holy mission and his vengeance against the Vampires who wronged him so long ago. But tonight it had been made clear to him that the CPS was one more catspaw for Vampires. Perhaps it had not always been that. Perhaps it had started with good intentions. But the damned and their agents brought only suffering wherever they went.
He thought back to the night that the alliance he now abandoned had been forged in God's house. The challenge that the Lord had laid before him. To find virtue in the sinful and turn them into blades for righteousness. And while it wounded his pride to admit it, he knew the exact sinner to wield against the CPS. He finished dressing his wounds and walked east. Sometime later he came to a condominium building and looked for the unit with shutters over the windows.
He walked up to Agent Francis Northam's door and knocked.
There was a momentary pause. The sound of footsteps. Of a slit opening over the peephole. Then the intercom on the front door crackled to life.
"I won't even ask how you found me," Northam said into it.
"The shutters were rather conspicuous," Auryon replied. They both knew that the Society of Leopold had little trouble finding one federal agent's home. Auryon tried to sound calm, but the strain on his voice couldn't be hidden.
"Gotta take hurricanes seriously," Northam said. "So is this business or pleasure? I assume that since you knocked you don't want to throw down."
"Never," Auryon said. "Not with the children of God."
A moment passed, and Auryon heard the door lock click. Northam opened the door, dressed in an FBI T-shirt and pajama pants. "Then what is your business?" He asked.
Auryon sighed. Pride was perhaps the greatest of the Deadly Sins, but one that no man was free from. But God did not call man not to sin. Sin was in their nature. He called them to rise above their sins. He was humiliated to be here. To admit that he had been wrong. But righteousness called for him to show humility if he was to prevail against the damned. Another lesson, another gift from God.
"I believe I have a lead for your investigation."