Ah yes. Anyone associated with St. James isn’t someone I’ll let my guard down around. Although it’s ironic how much a soulless man like St. James is involved with a church.
“Why do you think Jaeger wanted us to meet?” I ask.
He cocks his head. “You don’t know?” He presses his lips together, and I get the feeling that while I had once been an interesting specimen, now I’ve disappointed him. “I suppose it’s not for me to explain.”
What the fuck does that mean? I open my mouth to ask, but he continues, “Suffice it to say, Jaeger is very important to me. And he knows I’d want to meet anyone important to him.”
My rude retort dies on my tongue.
Father Francis’s eyes narrow at my speechlessness. Before he can say anymore, I hear my name.
“Elodie.” Jaeger appears, walking back from the altar. He comes to me and slides me into his arms before facing Father Francis. “I see you’ve met each other.”
“Yes,” Father Francis says. “We were just speaking of you.”
“Nothing bad, I hope.” Jaeger smiles but searches my face. I must look a little shell-shocked.
I feel like I’ve been called to meet Jaeger’s one and only parent without any warning.
I guess I have.
A shadow slants across us as another figure winds around the altar. It’s Kaiser, dressed in jeans and a leather jacket, black from head to toe. He glares at us. Without a word of greeting, he makes his way down the side aisle and leaves.
I look from Kaiser’s retreating back to Jaeger. Were the brothers meeting here? Or did Kaiser just happen to be here?
What is going on?
Jaeger returns my gaze but says nothing.
“It’s lovely to see you here, Jaeger,” Father Francis says. “Will you two stay for mass?”
Jaeger shakes his head.
“Ah, well,”—the priest shrugs—“I had to ask.”
“Dum spiro spero,” Jaeger says, and Father Francis grins.
“I see some of the Latin lessons stuck.” Father Francis stands to let Jaeger pass. “Goodbye, then. And good to meet you, Elodie. I have a feeling we’ll be seeing more of each other.” He stands in the aisle and watches us exit.
“What did you say?” I ask Jaeger as he carries me away.
“It’s Latin. ‘While I breathe, I hope.’”
He carries me out, and at the top of the steps, I can see into the next lot, which has a playground filled with children.
“Is that the school?” I point to it.
“Yes.”
I crane my head as we pass the fence, but I can’t see more than a modest brick building five or six stories high with many windows.
Jaeger told me he hadn’t attended the school, but obviously, Father Francis tried to give him an education anyway. It makes sense. Some of Jaeger’s manners and way of speaking are oddly formal. And I’ve never met a thug who knows Latin.
He sets me in the car and heads around to the driver’s side. He still hasn’t told me what he was doing or why Kaiser was there.
“Did you get your errand done?” I probe.
“Yes.” He puts his hand on the stick shift but pauses, turning to give me a long look.
