He shook it. "Call me Phil."
"Phil, then. Thank you for agreeing to sponsor Vanda."
"Glad to help." How could he have refused her? She'd looked so fierce and defiant when no one would sponsor her. Was he the only one who could see how desperately she had covered up the pain of rejection?
"I tried to help her before," Father Andrew said, "but obviously I failed to get through that thick armor of hers. I hope you'll have better luck than I did."
"I'll do my best." He had an instant vision of Vanda's armor falling off to reveal soft naked skin underneath, but he quickly squelched that image. He couldn't afford the bulge in his pants to get any larger.
"I believe her anger is hiding a great deal of emotional pain," the priest continued. "The poor girl is in dire need of our kindness and compassion."
Now he felt like a dog. Which was fairly close to the truth.
"I'd like to know more about you, if you don't mind." Father Andrew regarded him curiously. "How long have you worked for MacKay Security and Investigation?"
"Eight years. I joined my sophomore year at NYU. I was stationed at Roman's townhouse."
"What was your degree in?"
"Psychology. Animal psychology."
"Ah. You were seeking insight into your own kind?"
Phil glanced at priest sharply. "You know about me?"
"That you're a wolfman? Yes."
Phil winced. "'Werewolf' is the correct term. Or 'Lycan. "
"Excuse me. I find your kind fascinating, of course."
"Of course," Phil said wryly. Which was precisely why his kind wished to remain secret. The curious ones like Father Andrew would pester him with questions. The angry ones would want to kill him. The scientists would study and dissect him, and the government would seek to use him as a weapon. The cost of being fascinating was far too high.
Father Andrew removed a pair of reading glasses from his coat pocket and put them on. "I believe your special dual nature puts you in a unique position to help Vanda learn to control her violent emotions."
"Because I'm an animal?" Phil was beginning to find this conversation annoying.
"Exactly. I believe we all have...baser qualities that we struggle with. And since your struggle must be more tangible, you've probably developed a more practical approach of gaining control - "
"You mean I've learned to tame the beast."
The priest watched him over the rim of his glasses. "Have you?"
Phil returned the man's stare without moving a muscle. He did have control over the animal within, not that it was anyone's damned business. Then he realized what this wily priest was up to. "You're testing me, aren't you? To make sure I can control my own anger before I take on Vanda."
Father Andrew had the grace to look embarrassed. "Forgive me, my son. But I did need to make sure. I fear Vanda will test your control to its limit. She will fight us every step of the way."
"I can handle her." Phil felt a growing curiosity about this priest. "Why do you care what happens to her? Or any of the Vamps? Why do you minister to the Undead?"
The priest's blush crept up to the fringe of silver hair above his brow. "I value all creatures who have been wrought by the Creator."
"But surely they've done things that make you cringe."
"Jesus broke bread with the tax collector and the prostitute. I'm fortunate to be able to follow His example."
Phil's mouth twitched. "In other words, with the Vamps, you've found the ultimate sinners. You must be thrilled."
"Everyone needs to know they're the children of God. That goes for shape shifters, too, I might add." He pulled a small day-timer from his coat pocket. "Now, I'd like to schedule a counseling session for you and Vanda. I may need your assistance to make sure she attends."