“If they don’t have souls anymore, can they go to hell?”
“Interesting theological question. But a debate on theology is not really why you’re here, I think.”
She was right. That was a wild-goose chase and obscured what I was really here for. “My faith has been... lacking,” I said. “It isn’t that I’m antiredemption, anti-God, antianything. It’s just that...” I trailed my fingers through the water, and it didn’t smoke or spark or start smelling like brimstone. That was a good start. “I’ve walked away from God...”
“Because he wasn’t big enough or powerful enough to save you and those you love?” she asked.
“No. But because he didn’t bother. And because I’ve done the same thing vamps have done. I’ve killed because I thought my way was the right way, the only way, and it turns out that sometimes there’s another way. I’m not sure if I’m... redeemable. Not sure if God would even want me, because like the fallen angels, I kept doing what I was doing even after I found out there was another way. I kept killing.”
The woman patted my shoulder and said, “And you also did great things for this city. Reined in the feral vampires that once preyed on the homeless. Forced them to do better by their own blood-servants. Forbade the creation of new blood-slaves. Don’t think, Jane Yellowrock, that your contributions have gone unnoticed by the Almighty. They haven’t gone unnoticed by us either.”
Totally unexpected tears filled my eyes. I had no idea what to say. Or how to say it. I turned my face away to hide my reaction.
“You sit here as long as you want.” She patted my shoulder again, and this time it felt like a benediction or a blessing. “It’s my turn to make sandwiches.”
“How much does all this cost?” I asked, my voice rough with the emotional reaction I hadn’t expected. I met her eyes and realized she was younger than I had somehow thought, considering her quiet, calm wisdom, and was maybe only in her late twenties, a dark-skinned woman with reddish hair. I waved at the interior of the small church. “Making sandwiches, cleaning and storing the clothing. Electricity. Rent. Salaries.”
“Upwards of a hundred thousand a year. Lately more, because New Orleans’s homeless numbers are growing by leaps and bounds since the vampires stopped eating them.”She smiled. “I really have to go now. But if you want to come back, we have prayer meeting every day at six p.m.”
I handed her the fifty dollar bill and said, “Thank you.”
Her eyes lit up. “Thankyou, sister.” She left me by the soaking tub.
I bowed my head and whispered, too quietly for any human to hear, “I’m sorry. I’ve doubted you were enough for me. Doubted you cared for anyone. But... you let me find the rift. Just buying that property so close to it was a coincidence. Or maybe the rift opened because of all the magic stuff I brought with me. Sooo. Maybe... you sent me there? You set all this up? If anyone could play a long game, you could. You know, since you have all that omniscient power and cra—ah, stuff.”
God didn’t answer, but then, he never had talked to me the way some people said he talked to them. “What am I supposed to do now?” I asked. And again, no one answered. I wondered if that meant it was okay with God if I made my own decisions.
I lifted a hand at the woman preacher on the way out the door and headed to my vehicle.
Eli was propped against my SUV door, his face unsmiling but not looking ticked off either, so that was good.
I said, “Hey, bro. You out here scaring the homeless?”
He tapped his earbud and slanted his eyes at me.
I said nothing. Didn’t react at all.
“You aren’t making a stink about me following you,” he said.
“No. Just doing your job. I get it.”
He gave an Eli smile. Sort of a twitch.
“How many others did you bring with you?”
“Only three. Two SUVs are situated at both ends of the block.”
I handed him my gobag. “Holy water. Make sure it’s shared where it’s needed. And tell Alex to send ten K from my personal account to the church. They’re doing good work on a shoestring.”
“You heading to HQ?” he asked.
“Yeah. How ’bout you drive, and we chat, and one of the security guys can drive the other vehicle back home.”
I got more of a real smile this time. “Sounds good.”
***
We pulled up at the back of HQ and parked behind three box trucks, delivery guys unloading tables and folding chairs and linens and other assorted wedding paraphernalia. Between groups of sweaty men showing way too much butt crack, Eli let me out under the porte cochere, and Derek directed me to the side, where he put me through the security measures as if I was a guest or one of the delivery guys.
