He nodded. “Of course.” He spoke in a distinctly British accent, and I was reminded that working as the secretary to a man in Father Corletti’s position was a coveted position within the Church hierarchy. “I am Father Caleb. It is our pleasure to have you here today.”
“Are you new?” I asked. “I spoke with Father Gregory on the phone several times, but it’s been many months.”
Father Caleb nodded. “He serves in the United States now, in the Archdiocese of Los Angeles.”
“Oh,” I said. Though San Diablo was over an hour away from Los Angeles, it still fell within the LA archdiocese. “I hadn’t heard. I’ll have to look him up when I get back home.”
It was probably my imagination, but I thought that Father Caleb’s eyes glittered with amusement. “I’m sure he would like that very much,” he said. He turned his attention to Stuart, the girls, and Timmy. “Father Corletti has been looking forward to spending time with your family, too. Please,” he added, gesturing toward the huge, heavy door that led into Father Corletti’s office.
We followed him in and found that Father Corletti was already up and coming toward us. He seemed smaller than when I’d last seen him, as if his priest robes were just a little too big. His hair was white and soft, as if emulating a cartoon image of heaven. He moved a bit slower, too, and I couldn’t seem to shake that stab of loss that cut prematurely through me. He was getting old, this man I loved. And even though his eyes were as bright and sharp as always, I knew that one day, possibly soon, I would lose him.
“The flesh has no choice but to get old,” he said to me in Italian.
“You always knew what I was thinking,” I answered, the words and language a bit heavy from lack of use.
“It is the circle of life, Katherine.” He shifted just enough to glance at Timmy. “None of us escape it. We can only seek to extend it, protect it, and to leave it with dignity and faith intact.” He took my hands, then looked me over, his expression one I was familiar with, as I wore it myself when I looked at my children. This was pride, and I was both humbled and honored that I had lived up to his expectations.
He pulled me close, hugged me tight, and then drew back so that he could peer at my family through his thick, round glasses. “But I have forgotten my manners,” he said, now in English. “It is so good to see you. All of you,” he added, smiling at Eliza. “Father Donnelly told me of the death of your mother. She is with God now, but of course that is an insufficient balm for those left behind. Especially when those grieving are so young.”
“I’m doing okay,” Eliza said, though at that moment she didn’t look to be doing well at all. To my surprise—and to Eliza’s—Father pulled her close and hugged her tight, the gesture setting off a flood of memories of all the times that Father had comforted me when I had been young and sad and lost.
I sighed, then leaned against Stuart, taking comfort in the simple way his arm curled tight around my shoulders.
Next, Father Corletti crouched on his knees so that he was eye level with Timmy. “Ah, the glow of youth. He has grown considerably since last I saw him. As have you,” he added, rising again and drawing Allie in for a hug. Finally, he turned to Stuart. “I think it is you that I am the most pleased to see. It is good that the secrets that have lingered between you and Katherine have been swept away, no?”
“I think so,” Stuart said. “I hope Kate does as well.”
“She does,” I said firmly.
“But come,” Father Corletti said. “We will have tea, we will talk, and then we will visit your old home. And after that,” he said as he turned to Allie with a mischievous gleam in his eye, “Well, perhaps after that we can let you have a taste of what it is like to train in the same manner as your mother did, so many years ago.”
“That would be fab!” Allie said. “Eliza, too?”
“If she wishes.”
“I’d love it,” Eliza said, and she and Allie started talking excitedly among themselves as we headed out of Father’s office to one of the formal sitting rooms.
For the first few minutes, the conversation was as formal and stilted as the room, but I couldn’t stay reserved for long. I was too happy to be there, to see him again. And soon we were talking easily about San Diablo and our old adventures, as well as these new adventures that had transpired since we’d arrived in Rome.
Allie and Eliza had been sitting on one of the small settees discussing weapons, but as soon as I started to outline all that had happened since we landed in Rome, I realized that they’d quieted down. The better to eavesdrop, I presumed.
In fact, Timmy was the only one who didn’t settle. Instead, he beat his spoon loudly against a tea cup and hummed along in time with the music he was making.
“Why don’t I take him out?” Stuart asked. “We’ll go explore Vatican City.”
“You’re sure?” I asked. Stuart still wasn’t party to all of my various adventures since we’d arrived, and I’d fully intended to educate him and Father Corletti at the same time.
“Trust me,” Stuart said, packing Tim back into the stroller. “It’s for the best.” He turned to Father Corletti. “We’re here for over a week. I assume this won’t be our last visit. I’d love to see where Kate spent her youth. Perhaps next time I can beg a private tour.”
“I will show you around myself,” Father Corletti said. “I’m sure we have much to talk about.”
Stuart looked sideways at me. “I’m sure we do.”
Father Corletti rang for an escort, and I kissed Stuart and Timmy goodbye before they headed out on their own adventure. Meanwhile, the girls and I stayed with Father, and I finished telling him about a few adventures of my own.
“And you?” Father asked Eliza once I’d brought him up to speed. “Have you been plagued by the demons as well?”
She shook her head. “Only that one time, by the subway. But Kate already told you about that.”
“And the alley?” he asked. “Where you threw the canister and assisted Kate’s escape? What were you doing there?”
She squirmed, then shrugged. “Following Kate,” she said. “And then I followed Allie to the bathroom, and then I saw Kate and the demon and, well, tossing that can seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“A very good idea,” I agreed.
After another half hour or so of meandering conversation, it was clear the girls couldn’t take it any longer. “Should we take them in through the trainee entrance?” Father Corletti asked me with a conspiratorial grin.
“Absolutely,” I agreed, then watched in delight as Eliza and Allie started out excited and then shifted toward apprehension as Father and I took them outside, across St. Peter’s Square, and all the way back into Rome proper.
“Um, Mom? You told me you trained inside Vatican City.”
“And I did,” I said. “Have faith and follow.”
To her credit, she did, and Father Corletti and I led the girls to the small grocery store three blocks to the east. We entered, moved through the store to the back, and then passed through the walk-in freezer to enter the long, underground corridor that led all the way back to the Papal Palace. Or, rather, to the training center and dorms that were built well beneath that grand and famous residence.
“Seriously?” Allie asked, huffing a little as we walked along. “You guys walked this every day?”
“Hardly,” I said. “Most days we stayed in the dorms. Or we took an interior staircase up to the roof if we were craving sun or sky. But if we had to go out or get back in, we were doomed to walk the corridor.”
“I guess it was part of the training,” Allie said. “I mean, talk about exercise. What is this, like eight miles or something?”
“Not even close,” I said. “And see? We’re here.”
The combination code for entry had changed since my day, of course, and I stepped aside as Father Corletti keyed in the lock code for the heavy iron door that had guarded these tunnels for centuries.
Once inside, I paused and breathed deep. The air was stale, but there was an undercurrent of spice and musk, sweat and excitement. It was rich and thick and alive—and memories flooded over me.
“You liked it here,” Eliza said, and I realized that I was smiling.
“I did. It was home.” I nodded toward the corridors that fanned out in front of us. “The dorms aren’t that interesting. Let’s take a peek, then show them the gym area.”
The dorms had once been monk cells, and each tiny room was filled with four cots. I was able to show Eliza and Allie my actual room, and I ran my fingers lightly over the etching in the stone where Eric had taken the knife he’d given me and scratched KA and EC.
“Daddy?” Allie asked, peering at the shallow carving.
“Yes,” I said, though I’m not sure how I got the word out past the tears that filled my throat.
“He broke the rules often, your father,” Father Corletti said. “I think that knowing when and how to break the rules was part of why he was such an exceptional Hunter.”
If the expression of pride and pleasure on Allie’s face was any indication, he’d said exactly the right thing.
“Where are the Hunters?” I asked. Though young and in training, the girls who actually occupied this dorm were full-fledged, albeit new, Demon Hunters. Once they turned eighteen, they would have the choice of coming on staff and working with the new recruits, moving on to
alimentatore
training, or taking an assignment out in the big, bad world.
Eric and I had taken the last option, working first in Rome, then later in various locations around the globe before we retired and moved to California.
“A training operation,” Father Corletti said. “One of our Hunters in Berlin found a vampire nest. Since that is both rare and an opportunity, we sent a dozen of our young Hunters in for the clean-out.”
“Sweet,” Allie said, and Eliza nodded in agreement.
Both girls were sitting on the empty cots, and both looked content and at home. It was disconcerting, actually, how comfortable Allie looked in that room, sitting in the very location where I used to sleep.
I thought of Cami, my friend and roommate who had been killed by a demon during an operation while we were still in training. I thought of all the risks I had taken—and, yes, I thought of the excitement and sense of both duty and honor. The feeling of being part of something bigger than myself.
I wanted that for Allie—that sense of purpose and identity. And yet I was terrified of the price she would have to pay. Even if she was never wounded, she would have scars. There would be losses and tears and horrible memories.
She’d reached a point where I could no longer kiss the boo-boos and make them better. The circle of life, as Father Corletti had said.
But in the world of demon hunting, that circle could be a scary place.
“Mom?”
It might have been my imagination, but I thought I heard understanding in her voice. I smiled at her, then at Eliza and at Father. “I’m fine,” I said. “A little melancholy.”
“Can we see where you trained?” Eliza asked, standing.
“Of course.”
Father and I led the way through the dim corridors that were still lit by wall sconces. Once upon a time, the illumination had been provided by candles. Now we walked in the dim glow of low wattage incandescents. Even with such modern touches, though, the corridor was clearly ancient. The walls were rough stone, having been dug out and fortified almost two thousand years before.
Behind us, the girls were quiet for a while, apparently taking it all in—the dorm rooms we passed, each like the one we had paused in; the dining hall with its long, wooden tables and benches polished smooth from so many bodies sliding across them; the Hunters’ library, which Father pointed out, also noting that there was a secret passage from this small research area to the actual Vatican library.
Soon, though, we came to the long pathway that had no rooms or passages extending from it. This was simply one long, dim corridor, and it was one through which I had passed every day of my youth as I moved from my sleeping quarters to the cavernous training floor.
“We’re descending,” Allie said, and the comment impressed me because the downward slope of the floor was so minute that most people didn’t realize that by the time they reached the training room they were standing a full three stories beneath the ground.
For a while the girls walked in silence, but as they realized that we wouldn’t be reaching our destination quickly, they began to chatter. I was already deep into conversation with Father Corletti, running through various theories about why I’d been targeted by the local demon population—and what they thought that I had.
Even so, I couldn’t help but smile when I overheard Allie tell Eliza that it was good that Timmy and Stuart left, because her brother would have “totally melted down by now, and without Boo Bear he’d be making us all miserable.”
She might not know the answer to the overall demon question any more than I did. But about that one little fact, she was totally on target.
“Ah, Marcus, you are here,” Father Corletti said as we stepped into the huge, open space in which I had spent so many hours. Across the room, a young man in sweats who’d been beating the crap out of a sparring bag turned to look at us.
“Father,” he said, “good to see you.”
“Perhaps you could show these two young ladies a thing or two?”
“I would be honored,” Marcus said, coming to us with his hand extended to me. “You are Katherine? I have been looking forward to meeting you. My father spoke most highly of you.” He spoke in clear, slow English, and his smile was wide and welcoming.
“Marcus Giatti?” I asked, remembering the young son of my trainer, Leonardo Giatti.
“Si
.” His grin was wide. “I have grown into my father’s shoes.”
“You have,” I said. “I’d be honored if you’d show the girls a thing or two.”
As he took an excited Allie and Eliza out onto the mat, I sat with Father Corletti on a bench.
“I’d heard that Leonardo was killed during a demon raid,” I said softly. “I didn’t realize that Marcus had stepped in to take his place.”
“He is one of the best trainers we have ever had,” Father said. “Though the loss of his father hit us hard.”
I nodded, thinking again about what Father Corletti said about life and loss.