"The Unnamed entered a cathedral inLos Angeles ," Damali said quietly as Carlos sought a window for refuge. "Carlos tried to battle the beast, but . . ." Her words trailed off as she shook her head. "The Neterus came and white light protected us and did what they could for Father Pat . . . the rest will take time."
"You went up against Lucifer alone, dude?" Rider wiped his palms down his face and leaned against the wall with a thud. "Remind me to just shut the f**k up if I ever have issues with you."
"Word," Jose said, his gaze going between Carlos and the dozing cleric. "But the question is, areyou all right, man?"
When Carlos didn't answer, all eyes went to Damali. She simply nodded and drew a shaky breath.
"We need to get Father Pat among his fellow clerics-folks that can devote twenty-four-seven vigil around him. His body is healed but his mind . . ."
Damali looked at Carlos's back slowly expanding and contracting, and she briefly closed her eyes as she heard him swallow hard.
"The Beast gang-banged his mind," Carlos said in a thick, angry tone. "Every offense of the Catholicchurch throughout history-the very thing Father took issue with-is eating his brain from the inside out. He can see it, feel it,smell it . . . just like I can. We're linked, and he was my father-seer. Only difference is, I been to hell and lived there a while, so the shit is ugly but ain't bugging me out. Although some of the scenes from the Inquisition ain'tno joke."
"Baby . . ." Damali started across the room and then stopped as Carlos held up one hand without looking at her.
He turned slowly, his eyes closed, lids fluttering. "I'm siphoning it to me, wrapping that shit up in silver, and sending it back to that sonofabitch on a hot wire. That, I'm sure he didn't bank on . . . that I'd been through enough shit on my own to step between his assault and Father P. Father don't have to take the brunt of this, not ever."
Before anyone could protest, Carlosspun around, pointed toward the window, and a white energy jolt left him in a pulse that rattled the house.
"Fuck you!' Carlos yelled, blowing out the windows on the south side of the house. He whirled on the team as Father Patrick opened his eyes. "They would have turned that man into a vegetable! Not having it!"
"Okay, we need to get this man into the custody of Imam Asula, Rabbi Zeitloff, and Monk Lin, stat." Damali rushed over to Father Patrick and took up his hand from Berkfield. "Father, can you understand me? Can you travel?"
Father Patrick nodded, tears streaming down his face, his lips moving with no sound coming out. A thin line of drool ran down the corner of his mouth, and Damali quickly wiped it away and kissed his forehead before Carlos saw his mentor's true condition.
"I'm on it," J.L. said, flipping down a comm board that was encased within the walnut paneling beneath the wall-mounted flat-screen TV. His fingers became a blur as Carlos's incessant pacing left a trail of blue-white flames that scorched the rug.
"Patching through to safe houses 336, 255, and 156.Hello,Brooklyn , you there? Come in,Chicago . San Fran, you there?"
"Shalom.Asalamu alaikum.Namaste."
Three windows opened on the large flat-screen monitor, each with a member of the Covenant within it. J.L. blotted the perspiration from his brow. "We've got a situation urgent.A Covenant seer down.Primary breach of a cathedral. The man took a black charge. One of our Nets is drawing mental poison-Net Council did the body healing. They got Father P."
"Tell them we might need a really high-level exorcism," Rider said, his eyes holding a battling combination of empathy and worry. "Not even Marlene can go in there behind that."
"Patrick," Rabbi Zeitloff yelled into the receiver. "My friend andbrother, do not allow the liar to take root in your mind. We will call upon the Archangel Raphael, as in the Book of Tobit, where he is one of the seven spirits before the Throne of God. His name means God Heals, do not forget this!No matter what you were shown."
"We rebuke Asmodeus, the destroyer. Allah will have no mercy upon he who attacks His own."
"My friend," Monk Lin said quietly, so calmly that his voice was like tranquil, flowing water. "I honor in you the divine that still exists . . . that I honor within myself and I know we are one. You are not alone in this."
"Asula," Father Patrick gasped, "I saw what we did, what terrible, terrible things we did!"
Berkfield restrained the elderly man and helped him to lie back when he tried to fight to stand. "Easy, easy there, Father. Listen to yourfriends, they are telling the truth-you-know-who lied."
"That's just it-it wasn't lies!" Father Patrick shrieked.
"It was truth," Imam Asula bellowed, his voice seeming to calm the upset priest. "But it was not the Almighty. No matter what house of worship, these evil deeds were the misdirected deeds of sick and twisted men. Even as we speak my own faith is splintered in factions that have killed and smote each other in the so-called name of righteousness. This shames me also, but it is not of the truth. It is of the Ultimate Liar. You must see past the horrors and know that these abominations done by man, in the name of your sanctuary, were not of heaven . . . they are not of the All. And, yet, even with these horrors, there are still men and women of good that have moved mountains and helped many."
"Bring him toBrooklyn ," Rabbi Zeitloff said with a husky, tear-constricted voice. "Patrick, don't you worry. In Revelations 9:16, does it not say there are two hundred million angels at the ready? If it's war, then we need you in that number-but alive, fighting those rat bastards to the very end. So you keep remembering that."
"Yeah," Carlos said, "Brooklynit is. I like how you're rolling, Rabbi. That's whatI'm talking about."
"The brothers will envision you in the purity of the center of the Lotus, and we shall hold you there in constant, unrelenting meditation," Monk Lin said, his voice tight with emotion.
Father Patrick closed his eyes and nodded, too overwhelmed to speak.
"I wanna send some encapsulated messages to the Guardian teams worldwide," J.L. said, his fingers becoming a blur on the keyboard again. "I need a white-light burst."