Free Forgiven by Jana Oliver

kept waiting for another thirty minutes, as if punishing them for having defied the priest’s command for a swift interview. If it hadn’t been for Stewart, Riley would have totally lost it. To fill the time and keep her from worrying, the master had regaled her with tales about his childhood in Scotland.
    ‘I started trappin’ demons when I was ten,’ he explained. ‘My first solo trappin’ was in a bakery in my hometown.’
    ‘It went down perfectly, right?’ she asked. It always does for everyone else.
    ‘Nay, lass, the demon tore the place apart. I staggered out the front door, wee beastie in hand, covered in flour and bread dough. My poor father was stricken with horror.’
    Riley laughed at the mental picture. ‘At least my first trapping went better than that.’
    The door opened and a hunter beckoned to them.
    ‘It’s time, lass,’ the master said gently.
    How many had heard those words over the centuries? How many had faced the certain knowledge that their mistakes might cost them everything?
    Riley shot a frightened look at Stewart. ‘I don’t know if I can do this. I’m so scared.’
    He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. ‘Yer a Blackthorne,’ he murmured. ‘Be strong and ya’ll do just fine.’
    He’d said exactly the right thing. Her father would expect her to be brave, to face this head on. I’ll do it for him.
    When Stewart moved at a deliberately slow pace, she matched his speed down the hallway, trailed by a pair of hunters. The room they entered was laid out like it had been designed for business meetings rather than a place to sleep. Three men sat round an oval conference table: Captain Salvatore, the brawny blond lieutenant who’d acted so mean to her and Father Rosetti, the Vatican’s representative with his dark hair trimmed in silver. Riley took a seat and nestled her hands in her lap, trying hard to not look like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming truck. She wished her dad was here. Stewart settled in at her left. To her right was the captain. On the other side of the table were the dark-eyed priest and the glowering lieutenant.
    ‘Miss Blackthorne,’ Salvatore began, ‘as you are an orphan and under age, will you allow Grand Master Stewart to serve as your legal guardian during these proceedings?’
    Grand Master? ‘Yes.’
    ‘Then we shall begin with the paperwork that stipulates that agreement.’
    Riley expected some long and complex legal form – instead it was one typewritten page that indicated that Stewart was the Designated Adult who would watch over her best interests during this and all future interactions with the Holy See.
    She and Stewart signed on the dotted lines, then so did everyone else at the table, followed by the priest using an embossing stamp at the bottom of the page. He tucked it into a file with her name on it.
    After a moment’s pause, Father Rossini made the sign of the cross and intoned a prayer. Taking the hint from the others, she bowed her head. Riley didn’t understand what the priest was saying so she made up her own plea in case God was actually listening.
    You know I’m not evil. I made a stupid mistake. A little help here would be good. I really need it right now. And look out for my Dad, please? He needs your help too.
    The instant the prayer ended, Rosetti pierced her with his cobalt eyes. ‘Tell us of the fallen angel named Ori.’
    That was the one person she didn’t want to talk about.
    ‘I met him at the Terminus market.’ He’d been so ruggedly handsome, so kind and thoughtful it was impossible to ignore him. I should have known he wasn’t for real.
    ‘You do not seem surprised to hear he is a fallen angel.’
    Riley took a deep breath and continued, ‘Ori said he was a freelance demon hunter and that he knew my dad.’ The moment the words were out, she realized that was a big mistake. She shouldn’t have mentioned Paul Blackthorne and the angel in the same sentence.
    ‘Was your father acquainted with