Chapter Three
One of the benefits of being a watcher is that I'm afforded some leniency when it comes to visiting churches and accessing their knowledge bases. While the fallen aren't technically banned, their presence inside is usually frowned upon.
The local churches weren't going to contain the information I needed, so after I forced myself to leave Lucinda in the care of Arriane, I flew to Italy. The Vatican was never a place I enjoyed spending much time; too many pompous, self-serving men had been appointed to lead the church since the early days, with only a rare exception thrown in every century or two.
The sun had just set, making the sky behind the building glow in a brilliant purple light that almost seemed to be a beacon for me. I knew without looking, though, that my eyes didn't match that vibrant violet color; leaving Lucinda on bad terms always darkened my very core.
A quiet hall greeted me more than anything else there could have. The swarms of visitors had been escorted out for the night and most of the residents were in their private quarters or sitting down for their evening meal. It wasn't until I had entered the ornate main library that I ran into someone.
"Mr. Grigory. This is a surprise. We were not expecting you," the clothed man stuttered in Italian.
"Father Francesco," I said as I bowed my head slightly, blinking once slowly to show reverence. "I did not expect to be here. Can you tell me, is Father Kelly available this evening?"
"I have not seen him today, but I will go find him, Mr. Grigory," Father Francesco said nervously, walking backwards toward the hallway he had just emerged from. "P..p..please feel free to make your way to the private library."
I nodded, a slight grin on my lips, watching him with strange amusement. "Thank you."
As he left, I casually walked towards the hidden door, pushing my way into the private room. The scent of old parchment, books, and dust hung heavy in the air. It wasn't time for nostalgia, though. My task at hand was far more important than remembering the decades I had spent putting together and using the documents in the small room. I could only hope something in the collection would give me the answer I desperately needed.
"Daniel," a warm, Irish voice greeted me from behind while I scanned the names of some of the volumes.
"Father Kelly," I said with a genuine smile, reaching my hand out to shake his. The round, balding man had been a dear friend of mine since I'd met him before he made the choice to be a priest. A cocky, drunken child with everything to prove had turned his life around after meeting me and became a well respected man of the cloth, at least that's the story he told anyone who would listen. I had little faith that I held that kind of sway on anyone, but it was easier to offer him a drink of whiskey than argue with him.
"What brings you around these parts, old friend?" He shook my hand, but eyed me strangely, knowing it wasn't a friendly chat that brought me to him.
"I need your help researching something that I'm not even sure is documented," I began cryptically. Father Kelly had become one of the most authoritative humans on fallen angels. He had absorbed everything in the private collection that I had amassed over the years as a watcher along with a few things that I'd told him that weren't officially documented. It had been over a decade since our last meeting and I hadn't since I'd found Lucinda again.
He continued to wait patiently to get to the point of my visit, something he would've never afforded me in his youth. "I'm guess you've found Lucinda again and you're looking for something else to break the curse?" Father Kelly shook his head and made his way over to the shelf dedicated to the details of each of Lucinda's lives. "I've gone over this a thousand times and there just isn't anything here that suggests there's a way out of this. Sometimes it's better to not push His patience." He made the sign of the cross and looked up before continuing his search.
I took his arm, demanding his attention. "Yes, I found her. Several years ago. The curse…," I trailed off, trying to find the most delicate way to tell him. "It's been broken. Lucinda is twenty-three and knows everything." I nodded my head slowly as he processed what I said.
"But how?"
I almost felt bad as I watched his face twist with an array of emotions; the world he knew was suddenly different and I could see him questioning everything. I took hold of his arm to ground him. "Father Kelly. Please. This is not what I've come to you for. I promise to explain all of that, but what's most important now is the balance."
His features finally relaxed again. "Are you considering choosing a side?"
The question I'd been asked too many times over the millennia never ceased to annoy me. "I made my choice when I fell. I will always choose her." I practically spat the words out, but immediately felt sorry for treating him like that. "No, my dear friend Cam has led me to believe my choice might not matter so much anymore."
A small scowl appeared on his face. "Since when do you take stock in anything that demon says? Why haven't you sent him back where he belongs yet?" Father Kelly began busying himself with rearranging volumes.
"Since it could affect my child, the one that Lucinda will want someday," I said, the sorrow etched in my words. More than anything, I wanted this time with her to be everything that she'd wanted from all her past lives: a husband, a family, a life without the threat that my presence always brought. I had given her the chance at a life together with me without the threat; the rest was still being worked through.
Father Kelly's brow raised and his attention turned away from the dusty books to me. "I'm listening."
I nodded and sat down with him at the small desk, recounting the details of Cam's threat.
"I'm not sure I've seen anything about this loophole, Daniel. You know I've been through these volumes hundreds of times. I just don't believe Nephilims have enough sway to tip the scales either way."
"I know, that's my understanding, too," I said as I rubbed my forehead in frustration. "I don't know why, but I have this feeling that Cam isn't lying about this. And until I know for sure…" I sighed, not continuing.
"Were you and this Lucinda planning on marriage and a family?" Father Kelly asked, seemingly very surprised.
I nodded sadly. "She's almost through graduate school and we were going to wed afterwards."
His head cocked to the side. "In a church?"
I laughed sadly. "You know I couldn't do that. We never worked out the details, but I know her and Gabbe have been planning something. I had to put a halt to all of that."
"I will see what I can find out about this, but I'm not hopeful on getting you an answer soon, Daniel. You have to understand that there's a whole other side of the story that we don't have access to. There might be something in one of the demon books that will explain this." He shook his head with a look of disgust on his face. "That is outside my area, though."
"I know it is. I appreciate your help with this, however little it might be."
Father Kelly looked down at his watch and then stood up. "I'm afraid I'm expected for evening prayers five minutes ago. Will you be around tomorrow?"
He already knew the answer, so it was not a surprise to him when I laughed at his question. "I will be here a few more hours and then I should get back to check on Lucinda." I stood up and embraced him, patting his back with less force than I did in his youth. "I'll be in touch with you in a couple of weeks. I really appreciate this."
"You'd better bring some whiskey with you next time. And not the cheap stuff," he said seriously before a smile broke out on his face. "Be careful, Daniel. You and your lass might not be in the same danger as you've been in before, but there's definitely something bad looming on the horizon."
"I know. And thank you. I'll bring some of the good stuff next time we meet and we'll hopefully be celebrating an end to this nonsense."
"Until next time, Daniel."
As soon as the door closed, I pulled a stack of books from the shelf and began skimming through fragile pages.