And Blue Skies From Pain (39 page)

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Authors: Stina Leicht

BOOK: And Blue Skies From Pain
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“You can’t only have the tea,” Father Murray said.
Liam knew he needed to be more careful with his money if it was going to last. Besides, Father Murray’s shopping had reminded Liam that Christmas was only a few days away. Liam would’ve preferred to give it a miss, but it was impossible to avoid. He couldn’t help remembering that Mary Kate had been the one who’d had a knack for those sorts of things—finding the perfect gift—but she was gone. The holiday had creeped up on him again like an unwanted visitor. There was nothing for it. He’d need a part of the money that Frankie had given him to send some sweets to his mother and half-siblings in Derry. His mother had gone to all the trouble of sending the records. He had to do something in return. It wasn’t about the obligation. She’d worry for him if he didn’t acknowledge the holiday, and he didn’t want her worrying. She had troubles enough. “The tea will do.”
Acting as if he hadn’t heard Liam’s answer, Father Murray requested two orders of fish and chips, some cheese and onion pasties, and two cups of steaming tea with milk. The waitress picked up the menus and left.
“Will you tell me what’s wrong now?” Father Murray asked, his voice lowered.
“I ran into an old friend while you were in hospital,” Liam said.
The waitress returned with the tea, gave him a shy smile and left.
“Who?” Father Murray sipped his tea, winced and then blew in it.
Liam held the cup, warming his hands. It was scalding and really wasn’t fit for much else just yet. “My old mate, Frankie Donovan.”
“Oh.”
Nervous, Liam added sugar to his tea and stirred it. “I was given an offer of employment.”
“And what did you tell them?”
Whispering, Liam said, “What do you think?”
“And how did… Frankie take it?”
“Frankie was fine with it. Frankie isn’t the fucking issue. His friend is.”
“And?”
“Let’s just say, he wasn’t satisfied with my answer.”
Father Murray seemed to go a bit pale. “That may be a problem.”
“Aye. You think?”
The waitress came back with the food. “You have a care now. The plates are hot.”
“Thank you,” Liam said.
“Is there anything else you’ll be needing?” She was blushing.
Liam said, “Ah, no.”
“I’ll be back to check on you later, then.” She scurried off.
“Good service.” Father Murray hid a smile. “Must be the jacket.”
Sipping his tea, Liam made a non-committal noise in the back of his throat while Father Murray started in on his fish and chips. Unwilling to let the food go to waste, Liam decided to tuck in too. Once or twice he thought he saw Father Murray pause as if to say something and then give up.
“Is there something I need to know about?” Liam asked. “Wouldn’t ask, only it’s as if you were stalling a wee bit before telling me the bad news.”
Father Murray blinked. Liam watched him take another sip of scalding hot tea.
“There is something we need to discuss,” Father Murray said. “I’m not sure that I’d call it bad, necessarily.”
“Out with it, then.”
Father Murray stared at his cup as if he were afraid to look Liam in the face. “There’s someone who wishes to speak with you.”
This isn’t going to be in any way good,
Liam thought.
The door swung open, allowing in a fresh burst of freezing, snow-tainted air. Another priest entered the chip shop. Liam watched him shake out his black wool overcoat. He was older—in his early sixties, Liam guessed, with wispy white hair. The older priest’s shoulders were square, and he carried himself with a sense of authority. He was medium in build, and average in height for a local, but something about the man said he wasn’t entirely local.
The overcoat?
Liam saw him scan the café as if looking for someone.
The creature living in the blackest parts of Liam’s brain shuddered. In all the time he’d been aware of the creature’s existence, he’d never known it to show fear. It was more than a wee bit unsettling.
“Would it happen to be the someone that just walked in the door?” Liam asked.
Father Murray turned and cursed under his breath. “He said he’d wait for me to ring him.” He paused and then waved at the priest, motioning him over.
“Who is he, Father?” Liam asked. He didn’t like the look of the man one bit. His eyes were too sharp, and his mouth was too thin.
“The Grand Inquisitor for the Northern Hemisphere,” Father Murray muttered through clenched teeth and then smiled.
Liam kept his voice low. “I’m going to wish I stayed with Frankie and his friend, aren’t I?”
“Be careful, Liam.”
The Grand Inquisitor arrived at the table. “Hello, Father Murray. I see you’re having lunch. Mind if I join you?”
“Not at all,” Father Murray said. “Liam, this is Monsignor Paul.”
Monsignor Paul took two chairs from an empty table, and arranged it so that Liam’s exit was blocked. He took off his overcoat and draped it over the first chair and sat in the second. In that moment, Liam decided he liked Monsignor Paul even less than before.
“Hello, Mr. Kelly,” Monsignor Paul said. “I’ve heard a great deal about you.”
Liam’s back tensed. “Don’t you mean you’ve
read
a great deal about me?”
Monsignor Paul laughed and shook his head. “Oh, he’s good.”
“Was nice meeting you, Father. But I’ve got things I must see to.” Liam started to get up, but Monsignor Paul trapped his wrist.
“Don’t go just yet,” Monsignor Paul said. “You haven’t finished your food, and we have much to discuss.”
“Get your fucking hand off me.”
On her way over with two fresh cups of tea, the waitress stopped in her tracks—a shocked look on her freckled face.
“Liam—”
“I don’t give a fuck who he is,” Liam said, interrupting Father Murray. “Tell him to let me go.”
Glancing at the waitress as if sending a signal to Monsignor Paul, Father Murray said, “I’m afraid Liam doesn’t like being touched.”
Monsignor Paul paused, appeared to remember where he was and then lifted his hand. “I apologize.”
Liam got up from the table and bumped it in his hurry to get clear of Monsignor Paul. Dishes clattered and tea slopped onto the table.
Get the fuck out of here,
the monster growled.
Now.
“You really should consider staying to chat,” Monsignor Paul said.
“And why is that?” Liam asked.
“First, because if you don’t I’ll recommend the peace agreement be cancelled. Effective immediately,” Monsignor Paul said. “And, as I’m sure Father Murray has explained, my recommendations carry a great deal of weight.” He paused and a small and ever-so-certain smile crept across his severe lips. “Second, there is an RUC prowl car waiting at the corner.”
All the blood in Liam’s body seemed to drop to his feet, and he felt sick. He glanced at the rear exit.
Out now,
the monster snarled.
“That isn’t an option either,” Monsignor Paul said. “Father Dominic and a few trusted others are waiting for us at the service entrance.”
Father Murray gaped. “Now wait one minute!”
“Hopefully,” Monsignor Paul said, holding up a hand to hush Father Murray. “I don’t need to be any more clear than that.”
Sweat oozed down Liam’s back and sides for a second time that day. It itched as it crawled its way down his skin. In a futile sense of rebellion he waited three heartbeats before he swallowed a retort he’d no doubt come to regret later and then sat.
Should’ve stayed with the Fianna,
Liam thought.
At least then my biggest problems were that fucking wig.
“There. I knew we could have a civilized conversation.” Monsignor Paul signalled to the waitress. “Young lady, a cup of tea, please. Lemon. No milk.”
She nodded and hurried off, this time without giving Liam so much as a glance.
“Am I to be arrested, then?” Liam asked.
“That isn’t my intent,” Monsignor Paul said. “I merely felt sufficient preparation for contingencies might be necessary. To guarantee your cooperation.”
“What the fuck do you want?” Liam asked.
Monsignor Paul brushed invisible lint from his shoulder. “It isn’t so much what I want. It’s what you want that’s important.”
“I don’t understand,” Liam said, his unease growing worse.
“You would prefer not to go to prison,” Monsignor Paul said. “Well, again, that is.” He folded his hands on the table in front of him. “You would also prefer to be declared human, I believe.”
Clearing her throat, the waitress set a steaming cup of tea in front of Monsignor Paul. Then she took up the empties and left two fresh cups of tea, giving Liam a sidelong glance brimming with curiosity.
“However, that is now impossible,” Monsignor Paul said.
“What?” Liam asked and prepared to jump over the table, knock down Monsignor Paul, and bolt for the back door. He could take Father Dominic. He’d done it before. But the others. How many were there?
Get out now! Danger! Get out—
Shut your fucking gob! I have to concentrate,
Liam thought back at the creature.
“Our recent data—data which you provided, thank you so very much, indicates that you aren’t human,” Monsignor Paul said.
Father Murray said, “His mother is human. He’s half human.”
Shaking his head, Monsignor Paul clucked like a teacher correcting a student. “Don’t argue semantics with me, Guardian Joseph. You know better.”
“What am I then?” Liam asked.
“A demon,” Monsignor Paul said. “Unfortunately, I can’t prove it. There isn’t enough evidence. Not yet. Speaking of, perhaps we should examine the rest of your family. I understand your mother has exhibited a curious talent for attracting demons. You’ve a sister as well. Moira? Her teachers say she claims to see demons. I wonder what data we can collect from her?”
He’s threatening my family.
A ball of hatred tightened in Liam’s gut. “Ma and Moira are not fucking demons. Nor am I.”
“Really? What is it exactly that you think you are?” Monsignor Paul asked. “A normal young man, recently married to a beautiful woman who is pregnant with his child? No? A normal working man who drives a black taxi? A grieving widower? How about a criminal? A convict?” He lowered his head and leaned closer. Liam could smell cigarettes on his breath. “A… terrorist with a rather intriguing reputation? Or some sort of myth? Which is closer to the truth, do you think?”
Liam’s jaw tightened. “Some would say demons are myths.”
“Don’t disappoint me, Mr. Kelly. I’m told you’re intelligent.” Monsignor Paul shook his head. “We both know demons exist.”
“I still don’t understand what it is you want from me,” Liam said.
“Return to the Queen’s facility. There I will collect new data. My way. And assure that it isn’t contaminated.”
Jesus Christ.
Liam thought of Father Conroy’s tray of knives and suppressed a shudder.
Run. Run now!
The monster was in a frenzy of panic.
“Liam has already fulfilled the agreement,” Father Murray said.
Monsignor Paul frowned. “No, he hasn’t. He declared the terms under which the data was gathered.”
“Are you saying you don’t trust Father Conroy’s work?” Father Murray asked.
“Father Gerald Conroy is a very talented research scientist,” Monsignor Paul said. “However—”
“However what? However you don’t agree with his conclusions? Therefore, you’re going to rearrange the facts until you’re happy? Is that it?” Father Murray said. “You’ll not get away with that this time. Not while I’m here.”
Monsignor Paul’s eyes narrowed. “What exactly do you mean?”
“I think you know exactly what I mean,” Father Murray said. “I know about Waterford. I was there, remember?”
Liam watched Monsignor Paul’s face change color. “Yes, you were. And I was there too.”
“I don’t care what you say. Do your worst,” Father Murray said. “But I’ll take you down with me. And you’ll fall much farther. John told me everything before he died. Everything. I got to him first. Remember? I’ll tell them all that happened this time. Everything.”
“How dare you!” Monsignor Paul slammed a fist on the table. Cups, spoons and plates rattled.
“Call off the RUC,” Father Murray said.
Monsignor Paul glared at Father Murray and hissed, “You can’t blackmail me.”
“I’ll not stand for this,” Father Murray said. “It’s unethical.”
“Unethical? The ends justify the means,” Monsignor Paul said. “I shouldn’t have to explain that to a Guardian.”

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