Building From Ashes - Page 98/129

So why did he get the distinct impression that he shouldn’t let the door hit him on the way out?

Still…

Carwyn smoothed a hand over the formal clothes he’d put on for the meeting. “After a thousand years of service to the Church, I find that my responsibilities to my family and clan have begun to take away from my duties to my parish. It is for that reason that I desire release from my vows to the church.”

“And is that your only reason? The responsibilities to your family?”

“Why do you ask?”

Arturo reached into his desk, removed a thin file, and opened it, spreading his hands over the contents. “Tell me about Brigid Connor.”

Carwyn was silent. He should have known that others would find out about his interest. He hadn’t exactly been subtle about it. Still, it was none of Arturo’s business, as far as he was concerned. “She’s a new member of my clan. Recently turned.”

“She’s a confirmed member of the church.”

“And still practices, as far as I am aware. She was raised in the church and sees no conflict between her immortal state and her faith.”

“She’s a fire vampire. Very valuable, isn’t she? And under your aegis?”

He felt a twitch in his eye. “She is under my daughter’s aegis. She and Brigid were friends in her human life.”

Arturo paged through the file. “Vampire ‘families’ can be quite complicated, can’t they?”

“I suppose so.”

“Based on so much more than biology. It’s fascinating, really.”

Now Carwyn was just getting annoyed. “Get to the point, Arturo.”

“Your feelings for Brigid Connor have nothing to do with your desire to leave the church?”

Carwyn could feel the anger building. “Who told you about her?” Murphy had close ties to the bishop in Dublin. Was this his doing?

Arturo leaned back in his chair, examining him as if he were some interesting specimen under a microscope. “I have my sources, Carwyn ap Bryn. Are you refusing to answer the question I asked you?”

“I want to know what business it is of yours.”

“She’s a member of the church. That makes it my business.”

“You take such an interest in every Catholic? How noble.”

“What is your relationship with her?”

“So you can use it against me? Or her?” He shook his head. “She’s none of your concern. See to your spies, Arturo. Leave Brigid Connor alone. She’s not a pawn for you to use.”

A single hand slammed down on the marble desk and the Spaniard leaned forward. “I want to know because she is a child of God, who has—according to all reports—led a very difficult life. I’m asking, Carwyn, because as powerful as she is, she’s also vulnerable.”

Carwyn blinked. “You mean… you’re actually concerned about her? Not the political implications of this or her possible use to your network?”

Arturo glared. “I’m not a complete monster. Her sire is your own child and holds no authority over you. Therefore, there is no one in the immortal world who can interfere should you try to take advantage of her.”

Carwyn bared his fangs. “You think I would try to—”

“What are your intentions toward the young woman, Carwyn?” Arturo’s nostrils flared. It was more reaction from the human than Carwyn had seen all night. “Her sire cannot ask, but I can. Your interest has been noted by more than me. What do you intend?”

“I intend to marry her, you infuriating dolt!”

Arturo’s shoulders relaxed and he sat back in his chair. “Why didn’t you just say so?”

His fangs were still long, so he muttered around them. “It’s none of your business.”

“Technically, it is.” He closed the file and slipped it into his desk drawer. “I knew there was more than just family obligations. Calm down. Do you think you’re the first priest to leave the church for love?” Arturo rolled his eyes and took out other papers, shuffling them around the desk in an efficient manner. “Frankly, I’m amazed you’ve stuck around this long.”

“This church is my home.” He spoke softly, finally calming from his previous rage. “It has been my calling and purpose for longer than you can imagine. It’s not a decision I came to without prayer and deliberation.”

“I believe you.” Arturo had relaxed into his seat. “The other reason I ask is, while the request for laicization is somewhat routine, a release from your vow of celibacy—which I’m assuming a married man would want—needs to be approved by the Holy Father. That, my friend, is why it is my business.”

“Not trying to convince me to stay?”

“Could I?” He looked amused. “I’m not going to fight you on this Carwyn.” A kind light finally shone through the human’s dark eyes. “You have been a faithful—if not entirely obedient—servant of the Church for over a thousand years. I would be happy if you stayed, but I’m not going to sabotage myself by hindering you.” Just like that, the kindness disappeared and the calculation returned. “Let me get these papers approved. Then, we’ll meet again. The last thing I want is to sever our relationship. I think both of us could benefit from… mutual cooperation in these complicated times.”

Rome

June 2012

“Thank you, Emil.”