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ChapterTwelve
CASTOR
Ihad been hunting solo for a month when I wasn't training Eddie, but without having to rein Arrow in, I had been just about as productive as usual. Annoyed as I was that Father Marius was right, and training Eddie hadn’t impeded my ability to function, I had to admit, he was making more progress than I had anticipated. Especially considering he was more or less indistinguishable from a normal human in his current form.
If nothing else, he wasn't an active threat to the Abbey or its inhabitants. There was also a part of me that felt better knowing he was around when the hunt kept me away. After the attack, we had made some logistical shifts to ensure that Arrow, Father Marius, and I would never be away from the Abbey at the same time. Each of us held a key to Eddie's collar so that in the event that his intervention was needed, we could still use him.
More than anything, I was surprised that he had remained consistent in his desire to become a hunter. While I certainly wasn't going full throttle during our sessions, if only because that would've killed him, I hadn't been making it easy on him, either. Not by a longshot. I wouldn't have thought he possessed the requisite discipline to become a hunter, but so far, the training was going well enough.
He hadn't stopped pestering me about the infusions, though. It seemed that stubbornness was a double-edged sword.
I planned to check on him once I finished giving Father Marius my report from my latest hunt. When I entered Father Marius’s chambers, rather than finding him at his usual spot behind his desk, he was kneeling in front of the altar at the back of the room. I paused when I heard the whispering of his prayers, his head bowed and his hands pressed together in front of him. I bowed my head and stood aside, knowing he had heard me come in and would address me when he was finished. I couldn't quite make out his fervent whispers, other than picking up on Arrow's name in there, as well as the names of the fallen hunters.
After a few minutes, he fell silent and lifted his head, kissing the crucifix hanging from the rosary around his neck. To the uninitiated, it was indistinguishable from the Catholic rosary. The gem in the very center of the rose dangling from it was not stone, but rather a glass bead filled with the blood of one of the Church's earliest martyrs.
The holy reliquary was my master's prized possession, and for good reason. It was also the true source of the power flowing through his veins, which separated him even from other hunters who had been taking infusions for just as long as he had. It was also, I assumed, the reason he hadn't aged in the better part of a century. That was the kind of thing even I didn't dare to ask him, though. If he hadn't told Arrow, his undisputed favorite, he certainly wasn't going to tell me.
"You're home late," Father Marius remarked. "You caught me in my evening vespers."
"I'm sorry to disturb you, Father," I said, bowing to him.
"You needn't be," he said, rising to his feet and turning to face me. "How is the hunt?"
"Same as ever," I answered. "No sign of the Order tonight."
"Yes, I expect they will be keeping a low profile for the time being," he mused.
"Has there been any word from your sister?"
"No," he said thoughtfully. "I don't expect there will be, either."
"Do you think she sanctioned the attack?"
He paused as if to consider it. "I can't say for certain, but no. I don't think so."
I was curious, and tempted to push the matter, but I knew better. In a way, it seemed strangely fitting that the heads of both the Order and the Church should be twins—equally opposing forces, both dependent and a curse upon each other.
"There have been more wolf attacks," I said.
"Rogues?" Even though there was hope in his tone, I could tell he already knew the answer.
"The Graystone pack," I corrected, reaching into my pocket to pull out the pair of silver fangs within. Every member of that wretched bloodline had them, including the pups.
"I feared as much," Father Marius sighed as I placed them on his desk.
"They're not going to stop," I told him. "The Order would rather attack fellow hunters than beasts these days, and with the recent surge in interactions, they must know of our losses. That we’re weaker now."
"I am well aware of the situation, Castor," he said in a weary tone.
That was usually my cue to back down, but this was the one matter where I wasn't willing to do that so easily.
"How many more hunters do we have to lose before you’re willing to take a stand?" I asked.
Rage flashed in his eyes and I knew I'd gone too far, but it was hard to bring myself to care about that, either.
"Given your personal connection to the matter, I'm going to let that slide," he said pointedly.
I clenched my jaw. "My personal feelings aside, am I wrong?”
