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It wasn't a question, but rather a statement, and if there was one guaranteed way to burn through the man's seemingly limitless patience, it was to lie. I had learned that lesson as a young recruit, and it was not one I cared to revisit.
"The wolf, Father Marius," I confessed. "Several of the men he killed were from the Order’s Special Operations Unit. Arrow confirmed it.”
"Yes, young Edmond’s intervention was quite providential for both Dr. Kelly and your sister," he agreed.
I hesitated. "Yes, Father, but… it means he's also capable of being even more of a threat than we initially accounted for, don’t you think?"
"Are you suggesting we should kill him?" he asked. Even though his tone betrayed nothing of his opinion on the matter, I knew he was watching me closely. Assessing my reaction. I also knew this was probably a test to see if I would be willing to sacrifice my acquisition for the greater safety of the Abbey.
"I think the option is worth considering," I admitted.
"Interesting," he remarked. "It's rare for you and Arrow to end up on the same page about something."
I sighed. I couldn't be surprised my partner had already gone to him about the matter. Arrow was loyal to no one more than he was to Father Marius. Not even himself.
"And what is your judgment?" I asked, admittedly curious.
"He does present a unique obstacle in the sense that we don't really know what he's capable of," Father Marius mused, leaning back in his chair. He took out the bone pipe he always kept in his desk drawer and stuffed it with whatever herbal concoction it was he’d been smoking for as long as I had known him, and likely ages before that. "However, his blood has been exceedingly useful. Even more so than a typical alpha’s. Remarkable, really."
"It's a double-edged sword, I suppose," I murmured.
"Quite," he agreed, lighting the pipe and taking a long drag before he puffed the smoke out into a thin, billowing blue line that stretched out toward the chandelier above his desk.
"What shall I do with him?" I asked. The thought of putting him down bothered me more than it should have, and I wanted to believe it was because he had saved my sister's life, but while that was certainly part of it, it didn't account for everything.
"Long term? That remains to be seen," he answered. "But for now, there is still the fact of the matter that you owe him a life debt. Myself as well, for that matter."
I looked up, surprised by his words. "I'm sorry?"
"A life debt," he repeated, as if the problem was that I hadn't heard him. "In acting as he did, he saved not only your sister's life, but also Dr. Kelly’s, everyone else who was in that clinic, and an untold number of other victims who might have been next, were the invaders allowed to continue deeper into the Abbey.”
"Yes… that's true," I agreed carefully.
"So the matter is simple," he said. "When he recovers, bring him here so we can settle the score."
I was still at a loss, but I knew better than to question his decision. The rules of honor were straightforward and unyielding where hunters were concerned, but it surprised me that Father Marius would apply the same standard to a beast.
"Yes, Father. As you wish.”
ChapterEight
EDDIE
The full moon was waning, and I had been back in the dungeon for about a day and a half. After the attack, it seemed that not much had changed. Not that I had expected anything would, really.
After that brief glimpse in the clinic after the attack, I hadn't seen Castor at all, but I couldn't shake the way he and the others had been looking at me that night.
I couldn't blame them. The aftermath of the carnage certainly would've been something to walk up on, but they seemed just as hesitant now that they knew what had happened as they had been then.
The guards who came down to check on me and bring me food and water had finally started to relax around me, at least a little, but all that had changed overnight.
I couldn't really blame them for that, either, but it hurt all the same. Not that Castor had ever seemed to trust me to begin with.
The door opened a few hours earlier than usual that day, and when a hunter I didn't recognize came downstairs without the usual tray of bloodletting supplies in his hand, I realized the day was about to take an unexpected turn.
Not that I could complain about that. I was bored out of my mind.
The man who came down the corridor was by far the most physically imposing hunter I had seen yet. With dark brown hair and shrewd green eyes that were studying me with cautious disapproval, he stood at six and a half feet tall at the very least. There was a long white scar that stood out against his tawny skin, running across his cheek just beneath his eye on the left side. Unlike the others, he didn't look quite as priestly and polished, with his shaggy brown hair tousled and a battered leather jacket kept open over the shirt and collar beneath rather than the usual robes.
