duty to spot and report demons and Fallen outside the Church. It’s also my responsibility to watch for suspect behavior from within the Order as well. In case of demonic influence.”
Liam felt his mouth drop open. “You threatened to report him for one of the Fallen?”
“I merely pointed out that it might best serve his interests to be cautious in his conclusions. Otherwise, it could bring up certain doubts.”
Fucking brutal, that is. Pulling on his socks, Liam said, “I’m glad you’re on my side.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Will there be more of that shite? The needles and such?”
“I’m afraid so,” Father Murray said. “But that’s all for today.”
Liam finished tying his boot laces and grabbed his sweater and shirt from the desk. “Let’s get out of here. It’s fucking late. I’m knackered.”
“The Bishop arranged for accommodations. A suite of rooms. Should be comfortable enough.”
Jamming his arms into his shirt, Liam said, “As comfortable as a prison can be.”
“This is a research facility. They are trying to make this as easy on you as they can.”
“Sure, Father.” He pulled his sweater on over his unbuttoned shirt. The layer of scratchy wool between the chilly air and his bare skin did its work. “As long as you’re here to witness it.”
Notably, Father Murray didn’t argue the point. He brought out a set of keys from his coat pocket and opened the door. An armed priest in a guard uniform stood in the narrow hall nearby. The guard waited until they passed, tugged on the doorknob to see that it was secure and then stepped in place behind them. Father Murray stopped and turned to confront him.
“There is no need for an escort,” Father Murray said. “I know where our rooms are.”
“I’ve orders,” the screw said, one hand on his pistol. “He’s not to roam free.”
Liam opened his mouth to object, but Father Murray spoke first. “Are we in danger, then? From whom?”
An uneasy expression passed over the guard’s grim face. “I’ve orders—”
“Prison,” Liam whispered.
Father Murray sighed. “Come on, Liam.”
As Liam followed Father Murray down the hallway lined with sealed doors, the claustrophobic feeling worsened. Liam didn’t like the smell of the place. Something somewhere was rotting. It was faint, but very much present. In spite of the late hour, medical staff passed by with a businesslike air—all of them priests of varying ages dressed in lab coats or guard uniforms. All of them carrying weapons. A number of them carried on animated conversations in Latin. There were no female nurses—no nuns—anywhere to be seen.
It wasn’t long before Father Murray stopped at a grey door with the label “Observation Room” bolted in the center. Liam attempted to suppress a shiver. Father Murray produced the key ring again and after searching for the correct key, unlocked the door. To Liam’s relief, the guard didn’t follow them inside.
The furnishings weren’t much different from the rectory in Derry. The sitting room furniture was well-worn but tasteful. An overstuffed sofa was arranged to the left. A thick rug covered the floor, and a landscape painting hung on the wall over the sofa. A large crucifix was tacked up next to the door. Liam noted the lack of a television or record player and considered asking Father Murray if a radio might be arranged. Can you get a radio signal underground? Shelves lined with books provided some potential relief from boredom. A kitchenette branched off the back of the sitting room. There were two doors—one on either side of the kitchenette.
Father Murray motioned to the door on the left. “Your room is there. I’ll be staying over here.”
Liam peered through the doorway into his room and saw it was furnished in a similar fashion as the rest of the suite. However, unlike the rest of the underground floor, the builder had left a window. Liam entered the room to have a closer look. When he pulled back
Liam felt his mouth drop open. “You threatened to report him for one of the Fallen?”
“I merely pointed out that it might best serve his interests to be cautious in his conclusions. Otherwise, it could bring up certain doubts.”
Fucking brutal, that is. Pulling on his socks, Liam said, “I’m glad you’re on my side.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Will there be more of that shite? The needles and such?”
“I’m afraid so,” Father Murray said. “But that’s all for today.”
Liam finished tying his boot laces and grabbed his sweater and shirt from the desk. “Let’s get out of here. It’s fucking late. I’m knackered.”
“The Bishop arranged for accommodations. A suite of rooms. Should be comfortable enough.”
Jamming his arms into his shirt, Liam said, “As comfortable as a prison can be.”
“This is a research facility. They are trying to make this as easy on you as they can.”
“Sure, Father.” He pulled his sweater on over his unbuttoned shirt. The layer of scratchy wool between the chilly air and his bare skin did its work. “As long as you’re here to witness it.”
Notably, Father Murray didn’t argue the point. He brought out a set of keys from his coat pocket and opened the door. An armed priest in a guard uniform stood in the narrow hall nearby. The guard waited until they passed, tugged on the doorknob to see that it was secure and then stepped in place behind them. Father Murray stopped and turned to confront him.
“There is no need for an escort,” Father Murray said. “I know where our rooms are.”
“I’ve orders,” the screw said, one hand on his pistol. “He’s not to roam free.”
Liam opened his mouth to object, but Father Murray spoke first. “Are we in danger, then? From whom?”
An uneasy expression passed over the guard’s grim face. “I’ve orders—”
“Prison,” Liam whispered.
Father Murray sighed. “Come on, Liam.”
As Liam followed Father Murray down the hallway lined with sealed doors, the claustrophobic feeling worsened. Liam didn’t like the smell of the place. Something somewhere was rotting. It was faint, but very much present. In spite of the late hour, medical staff passed by with a businesslike air—all of them priests of varying ages dressed in lab coats or guard uniforms. All of them carrying weapons. A number of them carried on animated conversations in Latin. There were no female nurses—no nuns—anywhere to be seen.
It wasn’t long before Father Murray stopped at a grey door with the label “Observation Room” bolted in the center. Liam attempted to suppress a shiver. Father Murray produced the key ring again and after searching for the correct key, unlocked the door. To Liam’s relief, the guard didn’t follow them inside.
The furnishings weren’t much different from the rectory in Derry. The sitting room furniture was well-worn but tasteful. An overstuffed sofa was arranged to the left. A thick rug covered the floor, and a landscape painting hung on the wall over the sofa. A large crucifix was tacked up next to the door. Liam noted the lack of a television or record player and considered asking Father Murray if a radio might be arranged. Can you get a radio signal underground? Shelves lined with books provided some potential relief from boredom. A kitchenette branched off the back of the sitting room. There were two doors—one on either side of the kitchenette.
Father Murray motioned to the door on the left. “Your room is there. I’ll be staying over here.”
Liam peered through the doorway into his room and saw it was furnished in a similar fashion as the rest of the suite. However, unlike the rest of the underground floor, the builder had left a window. Liam entered the room to have a closer look. When he pulled back
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