Chapter 12

8 0 0
                                    

Eric drove without saying much, lost in his own thoughts. As we passed the Cape Cod style houses that lined the streets, we entered a neighborhood filled with life. Pumpkins lined front porches; while the more decorated houses had haystacks perfectly piled, and cornstalks tied to the porch post. I loved autumn on Long Island. It was my favorite time of year.

We pulled up to St. Bart's parking lot a few minutes later. It was a nondescript looking church. That meant no one noticed it, because it had nothing striking about it—at all. The façade was brown, the grass was fading with the upcoming frost, and there were a few evergreens on the lawn. In other words, it was ugly, but not eyesore ugly.

Eric pushed the doors open, and I followed him inside. The hallways were silent and dark. We wound through a maze of halls, and passed a few nuns. We entered a sitting room with a haggard old nun sitting in a rocking chair. It was hard to tell, since she was wearing nun clothes, but I was sure she was built like a brick. Her body had a rectangular frame, bent with age. Her face had angular features, which must have been pretty in her youth. Sun damaged skin freckled her cheeks, and wiry hair that was devoid of color framed her aged face. Her gaze was intensely focused on the book in her hands.

Eric cleared his throat.

The nun looked up and smiled, "Ah, Eric. My favorite. Come on over here and help an old lady up." Sister Al put her book down on the table. She raised her hand to Eric. He took it, and placed his other palm on her elbow to steady her.

This was the woman who was going to teach me how to stay alive?

"Ivy Taylor, wipe that smug look off your face." Al's voice was noticeably less sweet than it was a moment ago. Her black habit swished around her ankles, as she spoke. My eyes darted to the floor. "That's better," she said. "Things are not always what they appear."

I nodded, at a loss for what to say. "Yes ma'am."

The nun laughed at that. "I'm Sister Althea. You may call me Sister Al." She extended her speckled hand toward me. I placed my grip in hers. Her ancient shake had the vigor of a twenty-year-old.

"Pleased to meet you," I said. My gaze darted to Eric, who had sat in one of the padded chairs. "My name is Ivy Taylor."

"I know who you are child. I know that there are great things planned for you. I know you survived already," she winked when she said survived, "and I know that you feel cast adrift and afraid."

I felt silly for admitting it to a stranger, but she was right. "That sums it up pretty well."

"Uh huh. I know so." She pointed toward a chair on the other side of Eric, and returned to her rocker. "I'm older than dirt, honey. I know lots. Just ask Eric." She paused for a moment, watching me. "There's something different about you," she said. I tried to hide my panic, but I had a feeling that I couldn't hide anything from this woman. There was something about her. The nun continued, "Yes, something's different. You carry a burden larger than most. But it's not beyond you." Her feet rocked her slowly as she spoke, "Many people wander through this life, unsure of who they are. It doesn't matter much to them. But it matters to you. The problem is that you see yourself, without really seeing yourself. You have no idea who you are yet. That's a little unusual, but manageable."

"So, what do I do?" I asked unsure. She was speaking in riddles. I felt like I should take out a note pad, so I could figure it out later. I hated riddles, mainly because I sucked at them.

Her aged eyes locked with mine, "You need to get rid of that anger seeping into your soul before it pollutes you." She watched me. Closely. I didn't move. I neither denied, nor affirmed it. I knew I had issues. But Eric didn't seem to like her answer. Her arthritic hands grasped the rocker as she leaned forward toward Eric. "You show her how to handle that anger. Teach her to defend herself. And then we'll train her up right, showing her how to use all her powers—as a Martis." Her ancient eyes bore into mine, making me flinch.

Demon kissed: demon kissedWhere stories live. Discover now