Dark Destiny (14 page)

"You're really hurt, Father," Destiny pointed out. "You need medical attention."

"What is your name?"

"Destiny," she said angrily, feeling murderous toward the priest's attacker.
Nicolae. I need you to come to the church
. She hated calling him. She knew he would be grinning like an ape when he received her call. Destiny glared at the priest. "You have no idea what you're forcing me to do."

"Yes, I'm afraid I do, child. I know you do not wish to be in contact with others, but I have a feeling only you can solve this for me. I don't want the police involved. Promise me you'll handle this yourself."

"I don't believe this." Destiny threw her hands up in exasperation, then quickly caught the priest to her to keep him from striking his head on the marble step. "First the sisters and now you."

You sound impatient for me
. Male satisfaction purred in his voice.

Destiny pressed her lips together to keep from shrieking in frustration. The world had suddenly gone insane.
Well, don't puff up yet. Do you have any skills in healing humans
?

There was a small silence. Destiny couldn't help the small smile that flitted briefly across her face and found its way into her mind. And into his.
You want me to heal a human for you
?

Did you think I wanted your company?

His laughter came as always. Wrapping her up in warmth and tugging at her heart.
That is my woman, always so warm and welcoming. Is your human a male
? She caught that small hint of menace flaring in him.

Yes, as a matter of fact, he is, and important to me, so quit talking and get moving.

You amaze me. You know I will help you, yet you still keep yourself from me.

She rolled her eyes and took a firmer grip on the priest.
I'm saving your life, buddy. I really want to do something violent to you. You're in my territory
. A sudden suspicion hit.
You're some distance away, aren't you? You were hunting the vampire
. Fury accompanied comprehension.
That's my vampire! He's in my neighborhood. I don't need some second-rate hunter in here mucking things up
.

"Destiny?" The priest drew her attention with his thin voice. "Perhaps you could loosen your grip. You're crushing my bones."

At once she complied, a blush stealing up her neck. "I'm so sorry, Father. I told you I might hurt you if I touched you. I'm not good at this sort of thing, but I think you should be lying down."
If you laugh, Nicolae, I will murder you right here in this church
.

His laughter came anyway, a low whisper of a caress; obviously, he was not in the least intimidated by her threat. It was a stolen moment of camaraderie and both recognized it as such.

"If you don't mind, I'd rather not move," Father Mulligan said. "My head is throbbing and I'm afraid I might be sick."

Nicolae! I think he has a concussion
! There was fear in her voice.

At once Nicolae was soothing, all laughter gone. Destiny could face a vampire without flinching, but this situation was beyond her experience.
I am on my way and I will teach you what needs to be done. Keep him quiet
. Nicolae couldn't help the small dart of pleasure shooting through him that she had reached for him in her need. Counted on him. Accepted that he would be there for her.

"You need to stay quiet," Destiny said, hoping she sounded knowledgeable and confident. She stroked the priest's thinning hair and tried to ignore the way the scent of blood heightened her terrible hunger.

"Do you know Martin Wright? A nice young man. Marty. I've known him since he was a child. He was always a sensitive child and so loving and kind to others."

Destiny knew the man. He was Tim Salvadore's lover. Wright was always the quieter of the two. Destiny had observed him many times helping the older women in the neighborhood with heavy bags; he was the one who often slipped money to the young couple living in the small house next to Velda and Inez. "Yes, I know Martin," she admitted.

"It was Marty." There was deep sorrow in the priest's voice. "I told him if he needed the money, I would give it to him, a personal loan, but nothing I said got through to him. It made no sense at all. The only thing that mattered to him was getting the box where I keep the money for the poor. There was hardly anything in it."

"That's completely out of character," Destiny mused aloud. "And it doesn't make sense. Tim and Martin have plenty of money. They live carefully and they aren't spenders or gamblers. They don't use drugs, and Martin doesn't even drink. It's difficult to believe he would do such a thing."

She knew that Martin Wright and Father Mulligan were fast friends. They played chess every Saturday, and Martin often worked with the priest in his garden. Whenever Father Mulligan sent out a call for volunteers, it was always Martin who headed the project. "It's completely out of character," she repeated, frowning. This situation was too close to the story Velda had told her of Helena and John Paul.

"He has been coming late at night, working on plans for a gated community for the elderly. He's thought of everything seniors need—medical aid, access to a handyman, grocery shopping on limited means. But when he came tonight… well, it was Martin, but not Martin," Father Mulligan offered. "You see why I can't go to the police." He patted her hand with shaky fingers. "You find out what happened to him. I know you're the one to do it."

"I'll look into it," she said before she could stop the words. Another promise. Another thread tying her to this place. To these people.

"Thank you, Destiny. I knew this work was meant for you. After working so many years as a priest, I sense things about people." He patted her arm again. "I know you're very troubled."

She drew back, her mouth suddenly dry. "Isn't everyone?"

He smiled, his eyes closed, his head resting on her shoulder. "Tell me."

She took a deep breath, let it out and plunged in. "I looked into someone's heart and thought him a monster because he killed without emotion. I could feel darkness in him, yet he felt nothing when he killed. He did so out of duty to protect others from a monstrous being. He says I am not the monster I think myself, that I kill to protect others as well, but there is hatred in me. I hate, and
want
to kill. I don't think he does. He kills because he considers it his duty." Destiny waited until the priest opened his eyes and focused on her. "I kill because I
have
to kill."

Father Mulligan searched her face for a long time in silence. "Whom do you kill, Destiny?" He asked it softly, without fear.

Her gaze shifted away from his for a long moment. He caught the shine of tears in her eyes. "There are things in this world you can't possibly know about, Father. Monstrous beings. Not human. One took me away from my family when I was a child." She tasted death in her mouth, the bitter, vile essence of evil. There was no hope of explaining to the priest, no way of making him understand. There were moments she herself thought she was insane, living in a world of illusion.

Father Mulligan tightened his grip on her hand. Knowledge crept into the depths of his eyes. Wonder spread across his face. "You're one of them. I've heard rumors about you, but I doubted you existed. You're a hunter, aren't you, from the Carpathian Mountains?"

At once she felt the stillness in Nicolae, his wariness, his watchfulness. He was a dark shadow of menace the priest didn't know existed. Destiny immediately tried to sever her link with the ancient hunter. Unexpectedly, it proved to be impossible. She could feel Nicolae merging with her, waiting for her answer.

"Where did you hear of such a thing?" she asked carefully, all too conscious they might have to remove the priest's memories.
It isn't right, Nicolae. He's a holy man. We must not touch him
.

"I should never have said anything, but I was so surprised. Some years ago it was my privilege to be assigned to a certain cardinal. He was a great man, much loved by the church, his peers and his people. He was quite ill and subsequently died. In packing up his books and precious papers, his journals and letters, I found an old letter written by a priest in Romania. That priest also is dead, but in the letter he had written of a friend of his, a man by the name of Mikhail who lived in the Carpathian Mountains. That man was extraordinary, of a different species altogether. There seemed to have been a bit of a theological discussion back and forth between the cardinal and the priest on the placing of this species in the grand scheme of things. The cardinal was sworn to secrecy and methodically burned the letters from the priest. I know that because it was well known that he frequently burned correspondence from Romania. It was a matter of speculation why he would burn the letters from that particular priest. I came along some time after the letter burning and never witnessed it, but I did find the one remaining letter."

"Does it still exist?" Destiny looked directly into his eyes.
Don't you dare hurt him
.

Your trust is heartwarming
. There was that same mild amusement, no exasperation or frustration, just a patient waiting. Destiny tried not to let his voice invade her mind, wrap itself around her heart.

Father Mulligan attempted to shake his head, then groaned. "I burned the letter, although I wanted to keep it, just as the cardinal had. The contents were interesting and historically important, but I realized the priest had been reluctant to reveal his knowledge even as he was attempting to solve a theological question."

"Don't talk any more, Father, you're really hurt. We'll sort this out later."
He's slurring his words
. Destiny was already lifting him up, cradling him in her arms as if the priest's weight were no more than a child's.
Meet me at the rectory, and hurry up
! she demanded as she ran, using preternatural speed, to the priest's home.

I am right behind you
. Nicolae's voice was strong and reassuring, completely confident, and she felt some of the tension leave her.

Destiny carefully placed Father Mulligan on his bed, ignoring the presence of the other priests out in the hallway. She had blurred her entry so that none of them had seen her. Nor had they seen Nicolae as he carefully closed the door and mentally directed the occupants of the small house away from Father Mulligan's room. Nicolae pretended not to notice that she let her breath out in a sigh of relief.

"Father Mulligan, you have taken quite a crack on the head." Nicolae's voice was gentle, but Destiny recognized the hidden compulsion in it. "Open your eyes for a moment and look at me." It was a command, and in spite of his grave injury, the priest struggled to obey.

Nicolae smiled in reassurance, but Destiny hovered protectively just to show him she was watching his every move. Nicolae's infuriating smile became a smirk. Destiny couldn't look at his confident face. She melted inside. It was that simple, and that disgusting. A holy man was lying bloody and bruised from an unprovoked attack, and she was staring helplessly at Nicolae's beloved face.

Her stomach clenched. She pressed a hand to her abdomen tightly, alarmed at her thoughts.
Beloved
? Handsome. Sensual. Male.
Not
beloved. Where had that come from? "You're so annoying," she hissed indignantly.

Nicolae reached out, framed her face and looked at her for just a moment. It was only a brief second in time, but it was enough to rob her of reason. "You will hear the ancient healing chant in your head. Listen to the words, Destiny, and repeat them with me. Allow yourself to fall away from your body. It is difficult at first; we are always so aware of ourselves, but you can do it. Become light and energy and travel with me. Hold the mind merge firmly and use my images as a guide." The pads of his fingers trailed over her cheekbones, left a trail of fire behind. Left her shaken and confused.

Father Mulligan fumbled weakly until she reluctantly, gingerly found his hand. "I think you know the answers you are seeking, child. Have courage."

She watched him with admiration. Here was a man who gave himself willingly to be healed by a hunter of the undead. Gave his trust to a total stranger of a different species. A man who could think to comfort her when he was so injured. Destiny was humbled by his selfless, giving nature.

"Relax, Father," Nicolae said softly, his voice musical, compelling. "You should not feel pain, only warmth. I think you have a concussion, sir, but I believe I can help you if you will allow me to do so."

The priest retained his hold on Destiny's hand, but he closed his eyes once again with a small nod.

Destiny felt the shifting in Nicolae's mind first. A freeing of his spirit from his body. She knew the way; he had taught her how to do just such a thing to heal her own body when she had suffered injuries in battle. She had never healed another. Destiny went with Nicolae, following his lead as she had for so many years. Merging with him, becoming part of him.

It seemed she had always been a part of him. Her life had really begun when she had crawled into her mind and found Nicolae with his soft, beguiling voice and his unfailing patience. Destiny had closed the door on her life as a human to help preserve her sanity; only Nicolae had been allowed into her world. He knew everything about her—the good, the bad, every dream, every nightmare. Her own private hell. He knew her, yet he stayed.

Looking back, she wondered that she'd ever thought him vampire. There was darkness in him. He hunted and killed. Yet he was unfailing in giving of himself and his knowledge to her. What vampire would do that? All along she had been afraid of what he would see when he found her. Broken. Damaged.
No salvation
. She breathed the words between them.

Stay with me, Destiny
. His voice was steady.
Do not be distracted. You must concentrate on the priest, not on yourself
.

Destiny hesitated for one more minute, wavering with indecision. He was drawing her deeper into his world. Into his life. Into his soul. Destiny let go of the last remnant of her being and went willingly, allowing her body to slip away, feeling the freedom of becoming energy and light. This was a healing balm that was twice as strong as anything she had ever experienced.