Abundant Angel Catholic Church was an old, old building, made entirely of stone, brick, and mortar. It stood out from its neighbors on a hill between downtown Kansas City and the Plaza. A fifty-something year old man sat behind his desk, listening to Roland. Father David was a good guy, and although his office was clinically bare, it felt warm and soothing. I — as usual during meetings between these two — sat on a couch to the side of the room, doing my mime impersonation while Roland chose what to share.

And what not to share with the good father.

Because Roland was a man of the Catholic Church, one of the Vatican’s fabled Shepherds. I was just here to learn from him. His student. Despite spending the better part of a decade training with him, I had never felt truly comfortable in churches. I wasn’t against them, per se, but I wasn’t entirely open to them either. Well, after tonight, it seemed I did work for the church. Even if only as a temporary employee. Because I had no desire to become a Shepherd like Roland.

Up until this evening, Roland had simply been training me, for personal reasons, or so he said. The wolves tonight had been the first time he had taken me out on a job where I was allowed to participate. I had been his driver before, even able to watch hunts from a distance, but never to stand by his side.

I had thought we were going for ice cream tonight, a celebration of me being his best student, or something. But Roland was old school, and he had silently, sneakily taken me on a trial by fire. To assist Kansas City’s Shepherd on a hunt.

The Vatican had twelve Shepherds, and their job was to wander the earth, from church to church, helping to serve those in need. Usually with an Old Testament-flavored hug and a kiss. They took care of all the dark stuff: exorcisms, abductions, vampires, possessions, monsters, and anything else that didn’t fit well into the mainstream narrative. Not that the typical Priest believed in these things, but when the Vatican sent an order, the church and Priests obeyed. But Father David did believe. He knew there were monsters out there, but only because Roland had spent close to a decade here. Longer than most Shepherds spent in one particular church.

And that was all because of little old me.

He had saved my life once, and I quickly discovered that the price of my salvation was to become his student. He had decided to stick around town after that, rather than hopping all over the world like his brother Shepherds. And he found his home in Abundant Angel Catholic Church with Father David.

But Father David had been no stranger to me. Because he had also saved my life once when I was a very, very small child.

I had spent years thinking of conspiracies that could have brought these two men together, intermeshed in a secretive plot to save my eternal soul, but had given up years and years ago, finally admitting how crazy I sounded. Simply put, I wasn’t that special. After telling Roland about my experience with Father David, he had simply said, ‘The Lord works in mysterious ways.’ And since Roland would never, ever lie about anything related to his god, I dropped it, and accepted that I was the luckiest woman in the world. Father David had once saved me, just doing his job, but Roland’s arrival almost fifteen years later had brought us crashing back together like magnets. Maybe Divine Intervention was real, but that was more than I wanted to think about.

“You found it?” Father David asked, snapping me out of my reverie. He had short, thinning blonde hair and light eyes. He was as tall as a door, and sported no muscle to speak of, but I knew he jogged religiously. Ha.

Roland grunted, shifting slightly in his wooden chair. He was a big man, built like an aged blacksmith, complete with black buzzed hair, a short, thick beard, and scarred knuckles. His face was hard, but kind. Loyal. Steadfast. He had bandaged himself up in his office before we came up here to talk with Father David. I had no idea why we were wasting time up here, though. Roland should have been at the hospital or something. Shepherds were immune to things like werewolf and vampire venom, but he was still leaking his holy wine all over the Father’s chair. But telling Roland what he should be doing was a good way to learn firsthand the various uses of the word smite.

Understanding this from experience, I picked up a magazine and leaned back into the couch, pretending to read, and silently betting on how long it would take for Roland to pass out from his injuries. That would show him.

I heard him set a metal object on the desk, and glanced up over the rim of the magazine. The key I had grabbed from the wolf. My Detective Comics hat came on as my mind rehashed the questions that plagued me since our meeting with the wolves. Where had the other wolf gone? Had the injured one attacked us to create a diversion so the other could escape? But the injured one had held the key, so that just didn’t make any sense…

Father David’s lips tightened, but he made no move to touch the blood-stained key. “Have you checked the contents of the box?”

Roland shook his head. “We were… preoccupied.”

I snorted at his understatement. “You almost had your damned leg torn off,” I muttered under my breath, but I knew Roland had heard me, if not the Priest.

“We…” Father David repeated slowly. “Is Callie officially working for you, now?”

“No,” I said at the same time that Roland said, “yes.”

We locked eyes with each other, and Roland chuckled before turning back to Father David. “Your magazine is upside down, girl,” he called over his shoulder. I scowled at his back, tossing the magazine back to the table with a whispered curse. “In a way, she works for me,” he amended.

“I… see.” It was clear that Father David didn’t see. I didn’t see. Because I wasn’t going to be a Shepherd, bowing and scraping to a bunch of dusty old skeletons in Italy. Never. If Roland hadn’t been injured, I would have shoved one of my energy sticks down his throat. Well… I would have tried.

“We will attempt to see if the key works after we leave here, but I wanted to speak with you first. The Vatican needs to know that there was more than one of them tonight, and that one escaped before justice could be delivered. They need to know that their information was faulty. Which caused me great harm,” he added in a tone as dry as gravel. “From now on, I do this my way. They will be notified once I’m finished with my good work, and will not interfere,” he leaned forward slowly, hulking over the desk, “until I say they can.”

Father David shivered, licking his lips, even though it had nothing to do with him, because he wasn’t involved with Roland’s work. They were two arms of the same being that was controlled by the Vatican, and neither was in charge of the other. Father David was likely imagining sending that threatening message to the Vatican, and them possibly taking out their displeasure on the messenger rather than Roland.

“I will do as you ask, but… couldn’t you have sent that message yourself? Perhaps you want to call in assistance,” he said nervously.

Roland met his gaze, unflinching, but Father David’s shoulders stiffened. “Do you question me, Father?” he asked softly. Very softly. Like the sound a katana makes when leaving the sheath. Or a lone dead leaf dragging across concrete on Halloween night.

It wasn’t a threat. It was just Roland’s way. He had one person who questioned him. His old master. The only other one he listened to was God. Or, I guess the Vatican. But even they couldn’t control him completely, and judging by his track record, they saw no need to press the issue. He accepted and denied jobs at will. No one questioned why anymore. Everyone else was not worthy of his time. Even if on the same side. Hell, he was the only Shepherd allowed to set up a permanent base rather than travel the world on call.

“My apologies, Roland. I’m just trying to understand. Surely, you could have called them on your drive, and you could have seen to your injury before coming to me. I meant no offense, old friend.” And I knew he hadn’t. But something that wasn’t said by Roland was that this was a big extension of trust, a silent statement of his opinion of Father David. Neither said anything, but I knew Father David would eventually see that.

But, like a depressing number of stupid, hairy men in the world, Roland just sat there in silence like a moss-covered boulder in a stream, unrelenting. It was almost laughable.

Not feeling like dying today, I didn’t laugh, though.

Roland pocketed the key, and staggered to his feet. “Keep this talk between us and the Vatican. And lock the doors, Father. We’ll see ourselves out.”

Father David opened his mouth, but Roland was already shuffling away, fiery eyes latching onto me as he jerked his head for me to follow. I shot one last look at Father David, shrugged apologetically, and then followed my mentor.