GAME ON - GoM 2

15

Alex left Graham trying to explain to Bass about Markus and the Cross and started back to the sawmill. She ignored Thames, walking a couple of steps behind her, and produced her phone. She was growing more upset by the minute and she needed to vent out somehow. She didn't stop to think. She just dialed.

Markus greeted her as he used to, and his merry ways felt like a kick in her belly. "Hey, girl, what's up?"

"Don't girl me, you bastard. Old Peterson? Really? Now you hijack helpless elderlies for the kicks?"

"Not for the kicks, Al. Well, not only. What can I say. You left us in need of a fresh heart. Should we fetch it somewhere else? Maybe a nursery? Just say the word and that's what we'll do next time."

"There ain't gonna be no next time, Markus."

"Says who? You? And what army? Oh, speaking of soldiers, we came across one of your new friends. The blond hunter. Don't worry about'im. My associates are taking care of him."

"If you think he's gonna give you the Cross, you shouldn't hold your breath."

"Guess we'll find out soon, right? Feel free to swing by and check on him."

"Pray I don't knock on your door. 'Cause if I do, you won't live to tell the tale to your horny boss."

"Oh, girl. I'd love to see you try."

"What was George doing at your place? Is he one of your 'associates'?"

"You should ask him yourself. You know he and I go way back."

That was just too much for Alex. She disconnected, growling, and pressed on down the trail. When she reached the sawmill, she stalked across the yard to wait for Thames by the Hilux. The priest caught up with her a moment later and got in the truck without a word. Alex drove out of the sawmill down the old track.

"So you're busy tonight?" asked Thames, the epitome of casual.

Alex glanced at him. "Yeah. Tonight you're doing whatever you need in order to turn me into a channeler."

"You sure?"

She sighed, keeping her eyes on the bumpy road. "I'm sure it scares the shit outta me. But I know it's the only way to keep those bastards from butchering my people. So I don't have much of a choice, do I."

Thames raised his eyebrows, agreeing. "Bootter would be proud of you," he said.

Alex let out a bitter scoff. "Proud? He'd say I'm a brainless dickhead if I do this."

"Those weren't his words when he wrote to me to tell me about you."

"I don't think I wanna know what he told you."

Thames smiled. Their conversation was working, helping Alex to calm down. "Well, he threatened me to rise from his grave and haunt me for all eternity if I ever neglected his beloved child."

Alex scoffed again. "You should quit the morning scotch, Father."

"It's Gregory."

"Gregory. Really, quit it."

Thames let out a warm, heartfelt laughter, and Alex ended up laughing with him. In a way, she hated the man. Because he ignored her attitude and brought down her defenses with a word and a smile. Only the night before, she resented Bootter's death, because he'd left her without a guide or advice to face such a crisis. However, even so many years later, he still watched over her, since he'd set it all for her to meet Thames when she needed to. And she'd only known Thames for a dream and a day, and she couldn't help trusting him. Enough to put her life in his hands. Which actually also meant trusting him with the lives of her whole town.

As if reading her mind—and maybe he was—Thames said, "I can show you his letter if you don't trust me."

"Trust you?" Alex chuckled. "Your priest status and the angel thing inside you will forgive my French, but you're one charming son of a bitch. And you know it damn well. How am I supposed to not trust you?"

"I think I'll take that as a compliment."

"You totally should."

She drove in silence until they accessed the road by the lake. It was nice, this unexpected break from feeling so overwhelmed and hurt and angry.

"So what's next, Gregory? How do I become a channeler like you?"

Thames kept his light tone to reply, "The rite takes a couple of hours, so you should rest and come to the church after dinner."

"Does it hurt?"

"Hurt? No. Never."

"I'm gonna need an excuse to be out all night. Else, Claire and Tome are gonna hit the roof."

"Why wouldn't you tell them the truth, Alex? Not like we're going on a bender."

Hearing this mystic, ageless, half-angel priest say 'bender' in such a casual way triggered Alex's laughter. She controlled it as she turned onto Main Street.

"They'd be okay with me going on a bender, Gregory. But they don't want me doing anything related to channeling."

"I can talk to them."

"Thanks, but no, thanks. I wouldn't wanna see one of Tom's arrows stuck in your face."

"Okay. Got the memo. Careful with archer boyfriend."

Alex pulled over outside the church, laughing again, and faced Thames with an honest smile. "I'm glad you're here."

He smiled back, but his voice had a sad echo. "Hand to heart, I wanted to never hear from you, 'cause it'd mean you never needed to learn about this mess. But come to it, I'm happy you called me. You're all I expected from Bootter's offspring and so much more."

She looked away, feeling awkward at his compliment.

Thames opened the door to climb down from the Hilux. "Don't lie to those you love, Alex. They'll understand. I'll have everything ready by eight."

"What about Bormstone? We gotta rescue him."

He closed the door and spoke through the rolled-down window. "Right now, all we can do is pray for him to be strong and die fast."

Alex frowned, taken aback. "C'mon! There's gotta be something you can do!"

"Sure. I can go rescue him, and even retrieve the Cross. And let Askaroth know I'm here. So he'd send a host of demons to level your town and torture all your neighbors to death just to make his point." Thames flashed an apologetic grimace. "I'm sorry, Alex. We cannot jeopardize a whole town over a hotheaded hunter."

"And what if he breaks and gives them the Cross? Then what?"

"If I didn't assess him wrongly last night, he won't."

"And you're never wrong? Sorry, but I see no triangle of light floating over your head."

Thames smiled. "Bull's eye. Yeah, of course I can be wrong. Don't worry, I'll know if anything happens to the Cross. And if push comes to shove, I'll take care of it myself." He stepped back. "See you at eight."