“Where did you hear of such a thing?” she asked carefully, all too conscious they might have to remove the priest’s memories. It isn’t right, Nicolae. He’s a holy man. We must not touch him.
“I should never have said anything, but I was so surprised. Some years ago it was my privilege to be assigned to a certain cardinal. He was a great man, much loved by the church, his peers and his people. He was quite ill and subsequently died. In packing up his books and precious papers, his journals and letters, I found an old letter written by a priest in Romania. That priest also is dead, but in the letter he had written of a friend of his, a man by the name of Mikhail who lived in the Carpathian Mountains. That man was extraordinary, of a different species altogether. There seemed to have been a bit of a theological discussion back and forth between the cardinal and the priest on the placing of this species in the grand scheme of things. The cardinal was sworn to secrecy and methodically burned the letters from the priest. I know that because it was well known that he frequently burned correspondence from Romania. It was a matter of speculation why he would burn the letters from that particular priest. I came along some time after the letter burning and never witnessed it, but I did find the one remaining letter.”
“Does it still exist?” Destiny looked directly into his eyes. Don’t you dare hurt him.
Your trust is heartwarming. There was that same mild amusement, no exasperation or frustration, just a patient waiting. Destiny tried not to let his voice invade her mind, wrap itself around her heart.
Father Mulligan attempted to shake his head, then groaned. “I burned the letter, although I wanted to keep it, just as the cardinal had. The contents were interesting and historically important, but I realized the priest had been reluctant to reveal his knowledge even as he was attempting to solve a theological question.”
“Don’t talk any more, Father, you’re really hurt. We’ll sort this out later.” He’s slurring his words. Destiny was already lifting him up, cradling him in her arms as if the priest’s weight were no more than a child’s. Meet me at the rectory, and hurry up! she demanded as she ran, using preternatural speed, to the priest’s home.
I am right behind you. Nicolae’s voice was strong and reassuring, completely confident, and she felt some of the tension leave her.
Destiny carefully placed Father Mulligan on his bed, ignoring the presence of the other priests out in the hallway. She had blurred her entry so that none of them had seen her. Nor had they seen Nicolae as he carefully closed the door and mentally directed the occupants of the small house away from Father Mulligan’s room. Nicolae pretended not to notice that she let her breath out in a sigh of relief.
“Father Mulligan, you have taken quite a crack on the head.” Nicolae’s voice was gentle, but Destiny recognized the hidden compulsion in it. “Open your eyes for a moment and look at me.” It was a command, and in spite of his grave injury, the priest struggled to obey.
Nicolae smiled in reassurance, but Destiny hovered protectively just to show him she was watching his every move. Nicolae’s infuriating smile became a smirk. Destiny couldn’t look at his confident face. She melted inside. It was that simple, and that disgusting. A holy man was lying bloody and bruised from an unprovoked attack, and she was staring helplessly at Nicolae’s beloved face.
Her stomach clenched. She pressed a hand to her abdomen tightly, alarmed at her thoughts. Beloved? Handsome. Sensual. Male. Not beloved. Where had that come from? “You’re so annoying,” she hissed indignantly.
Nicolae reached out, framed her face and looked at her for just a moment. It was only a brief second in time, but it was enough to rob her of reason. “You will hear the ancient healing chant in your head. Listen to the words, Destiny, and repeat them with me. Allow yourself to fall away from your body. It is difficult at first; we are always so aware of ourselves, but you can do it. Become light and energy and travel with me. Hold the mind merge firmly and use my images as a guide.” The pads of his fingers trailed over her cheekbones, left a trail of fire behind. Left her shaken and confused.