She watched as he left the room with Rory, Chief, JT, and Fitz. The others saw her nervous expression and comforted her.
“Julia, you know that he can handle this by himself,” said Liffey. “He’s the most capable man I know, other than his own father.”
“I know,” she said nodding. “It doesn’t stop me from worrying for him. O’Shan didn’t touch him before but he might want to now that he knows he can escape him.”
“With any luck, he’ll return home with an idea of what the man is looking for. I just hope we can lay all of this to rest and bring him some peace.”
***
“Brother, are you sure you don’t want us to run interference again?” asked Rory.
“I’m sure. Stay here and if you pick up anything on comms, come running. But he didn’t seem to want to hurt me or attack me the other day.”
The men nodded, following Joseph as far as the gates of the outer bailey. They all stepped through and Joseph continued walking, turning to see that his friends were okay.
At the steps of the tower, he took them slowly, methodically, just as he’d done before. On the final landing, he waited then took the last step. Standing at the door, the ghostly figure was sitting before him, looking out the window with a pensive expression.
“Why do you return, Indian?” he asked.
“Joseph is my name,” he said softly.
“Joseph. You stole my bone,” he said staring at him. Joseph nodded.
“I did. Forgive me but it was to help you understand that the man, Péter István, was nothing but an evil magician, causing chaos and death wherever he went.”
“He was a priest,” frowned O’Shan.
“He was not a priest. He was a magician with a traveling troupe from Hungary. He saw that you were ill and fed your illness a reason to be cruel. Nothing he told you was right. Nothing. You had a cancer. We believe it was either liver or pancreas but it could not have been cured in your time. Not from anything, but especially not from anyone’s blood.”
“I don’t believe you,” he said standing to face Joseph. He was a big man, surprisingly so for the time period he was born.Joseph stood straighter, letting the man know that he was not afraid.
“He caused three young women to be burned at the stake, accusing them of witchcraft. There were others as well,” said Joseph. “He was not a man of science or medicine. He was evil and he made you evil as well.”
“I wanted to live!” he yelled in his shrill voice. Joseph covered his ears for a moment, then took a step forward again.
“But you did not. You are dead. You have been dead for more than three-hundred years. There is nothing that could bring you back now.” Joseph didn’t want to tell him the story of Marcel. That magic was reserved for the Robicheaux family.
“No. No, you’re like the rest of them. You want my land, my castle, my treasure. You cannot have it!”
“I want nothing from you other than to prevent you from killing innocent people. You must stop.”
“I cannot until the chosen one arrives,” he said shaking his head.
“The chosen one? Who is this chosen one? Who is this mysterious person that somehow, magically, could provide you with blood that a dead body cannot be cured by?”
“He told me a person would come. A person with a very unique appearance and very unusual gifts. He promised me,” he said nearly crying.
“Then tell me what those unusual gifts and appearance are and I will help you find this person.”
“Why? Why would you do that? You only wish to stop me,” said the ghostly shape.
“I do wish to stop you but if that involves bringing someone to you that will prove they cannot help you, I will do it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“WHAT!?” screamed Luke. “No. Fuck no. Hell to the fucking no. I will not ask that.”
“Luke, we’ll all be there. We have to try,” said Joseph.
