The second time I checked on her was at Aunt Nellie’s store around lunchtime. I was hoping to talk to Cathy on her break, but no luck. She must have taken the day off or gone to lunch with someone. Better not have been Edgar Linton.
I’m going out of my mind fretting over why she hasn’t contacted me. But I don’t wanna push too hard, not until I have everything ready. Not until I can offer her a way out.
I’m still recovering from the last resurrection I did—some college girl who overdosed. Two of her friends were scared for her and paid me to save her if she went too far. They convinced her to get the tattoo design I sent them. Now that she’s got a second chance at life, I hope they get her into rehab. They could have checked her into a good one with the money they paid me, but I’m not here to judge how and when folks spend their cash. I’m just here to get the necessary tattoo, collect my fee, and drag the soul out of the Vague.
With all the work I’ve been doing, my appetite has been fucking ravenous. I’ve been grabbing a lot of burgers for protein, but I’m getting sick of them, and the only thing in our fridge right now is soggy chicken fingers and tough old fries. I need something else. Lots of meat, maybe some vegetables for good measure.
“I’m gettin’ Brickley’s,” I yell to Hindley. “Can I take the truck?”
“Long as you bring me back some barbecue,” he calls from the couch.
“You got it.”
Okay, so maybe I have another reason for going to Brickley’s Barbecue. It’s past the barrier, well within the limits of Wicklow. Maybe I’m thinking of swinging by Cathy’s again.
But I head for the restaurant first. It’s one of those greasy spoons that doesn’t look like much from the outside, but locals know it’s got the best ribs around. The second I walk in, every damn nerve in my body tightens because I recognize the guy sitting alone in one of the cramped booths. Pastor Linton. Cathy’s pastor.
I watch him out of the corner of my eye while I order the food. He looks fucking awful. Pale as beach sand, just sitting there, poking at his banana pudding with a plastic fork. Hasn’t even touched his pulled pork sandwich, which is a crime. Those sandwiches are damn delicious.
“We’re waiting on a fresh batch of macaroni and cheese,” says the woman behind the counter. “It’ll be about ten minutes.”
“Sure thing.”
Just as well, ’cause I’ve got questions inside me that won’t quit. I need to find out if Cathy has gotten any blowback from that scream of hers out on the beach. I need to be sure that Edgar hasn’t spilled her secret and that the Wicklow Church hasn’t done anything to hurt her. The tattoo I share with her tells me she’s alive, but there’s other kinds of hurt that fanatical folk can cause. Cathy didn’t seem to think the congregation would do anything drastic, since she’s one of their own and all. Besides, mean as he is, I figure her dad would protect her, even if others turned on her—even if he’s been cruel to her himself. Guys like that usually resent any outsiders abusing their family.
But I can’t be sure of anything. So while I’m waiting for my food, I saunter over to the booth and slide onto the bench across from Pastor Linton.
He looks up with eyes pink and swollen around the edges.
“Hey there, Pastor.” I grab one of his fries and bite it in half. “I’m here for some spiritual edification.”
“Oh, um…” He gulps, blinks. “Do I know you?”
“I visited your church once. Sat next to Cathy Earnshaw. How’s she doing these days?”
“If you know her, don’t you have her number?”
“Sure I do. Weird thing is, she won’t text me back. So this is me, as a friend, making sure she’s okay.” My gaze bores into his. “Sheisokay, isn’t she, Pastor? She doesn’t have anything to worry about from you or the good folks at Wicklow Heritage, does she?”
His bleary eyes sharpen with awareness. “You know about her. What she is.”
That’s the confirmation I need. “I do. I also know what your congregation has done to supernaturals in the past.”
He frowns. “Who are you again?”
“I’m someone with Cathy’s best interest at heart.”
“You think I’m not?” His laugh is hoarse, strained. “I’ve known that girl since she was a baby. Sweet kid, smart as a whip—smarter than her dad ever gave her credit for. I knew she was struggling. I just thought the cause was physical, not…notthis.”
I lean toward him across the table. “You didn’t answer my question. Is she safe? From you and your people?”
“Of course she is.” His hand curls tight around the plastic fork, and his voice trembles, tears glimmering along his lower eyelids. “I won’t deny I’ve been part of some questionable things in the past, but it’s all in the interest of protecting the world from an evil sopowerful you can’t even imagine it. We’ve lost good men to that evil lately. But I won’t let Cathy become another casualty. Even if she poses some kind of threat, I swear to you before God, we’ll handle it differently this time. She’s one of ours. One of the family.”
I sit back, partially convinced by his vehemence.
Pastor Linton picks up a napkin and presses it to his wet eyes. “When she was younger, I used to imagine her and Edgar getting married. Thought maybe he could her get the help she needs, and maybe she could help him, too. Edgar, he’s…well, he has his issues. But I thought if Cathy got her heart right and he got his mind straightened out, they could take over the church. I pictured their kids running around the sanctuary someday.” He chokes out another rasping laugh. “Guess God has other plans. Now I think she’d be happiest leaving Wicklow, and perhaps that’s best all around.”
I almost tell him that I’m working on it. That I’m piling up cash as fast as I can, and that my only fear right now is Cathy saying no when I ask her to come with me. I’d never force the issue—hellno. I’ll die before I pull her out of this cage just to shove her into another one. But god, I hope she agrees to run when I’m ready to go.
