Free In Tongues of the Dead by Brad Kelln Page B

his office. “Please don’t take the Lord’s name in vain.”
    â€œWhy?” Maury raged. “We are God-damned, aren’t we? You told me yourself many times.”
    The cardinal spoke slowly, patiently, as though talking to a child. “You are forsaken. Both you and your brother are born in the line of Nephilim. That is true.”
    â€œAnd only you can keep us alive with your potions and medications. I know that. But I want out.”
    Espinosa raised an eyebrow. “Out? My son, I know you feel you have suffered a lifetime of pain, but I assure you that you have been spared a suffering you couldn’t imagine. I smile only because I knew you would be in my office to request this thing. I knew you would come to me.”
    â€œThen give us our medication and let us go. No more missions.”
    â€œIt is not my release that you seek. You must pray for God to welcome you back. It is the heavenly Father who has declared your lineage an abomination.”
    â€œTo be quite honest, your Eminence, I don’t give a fuck about God’s opinion.”
    The cardinal sucked in a breath. “Not in His house. You will not profane in His house again.”
    They glared at one another.
    Finally, Espinosa spoke. “There will be one more mission. The last and most important one.”
    â€œOne more?”
    â€œYes,” Espinosa said. “Wait for me to contact you, then complete this one last task. After that you will be free.”
    â€œNo more missions?” Maury asked.
    The cardinal smiled and nodded.
    And this is it
, Maury thought. The last mission.

XXI
    Father McCallum stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. His face was streaked with red from the panic of his dream. He splashed cold water against his skin and gave a heavy sigh. He had to meet the man who would take over the investigation of the Voynich manuscript.
    Worse yet, he would have to admit that the Voynich manuscript was gone.
    Stolen.
    â€œUnder my watch,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
    He pressed a towel to his face and then headed down the stairs. He tugged at his beard slightly, hoping to compose himself mentally and physically.
    He found Evelyn near the bottom of the staircase standing in the kitchen with a tall, bronze-skinned man who looked like he was in his mid- to late thirties. Father McCallum had wondered if the Vatican would send an old cardinal from a local diocese. This man looked so ordinary, and wasn’t even wearing a priestly collar. Maybe he wasn’t the Vatican representative.
    â€œHello,” he said tentatively.
    Benicio smiled. “Mr. McCallum? My name is Dr. Benicio Valori.”
    â€œDoctor,” he said, and nodded, still unsure.
    â€œOh, a doctor,” Evelyn blurted breathlessly. “How wonderful.”
    â€œMy training is in clinical psychology. I’m not a medical doctor,” Benicio offered.
    â€œHow lovely,” Evelyn shot right back. It was obvious she didn’t realize there was a difference between a medical doctor and a psychologist. “That must be so rewarding.”
    Dr. Benicio Valori nodded. “It has its moments.”
    Father McCallum felt beads of sweat on his forehead. He didn’t have the strength to endure small talk. “What can I do for you, Dr. Valori?”
    Evelyn frowned. He realized his abruptness had surprised her, and he tried to smile.
    Benicio smiled, too. “Business, actually. We share some acquaintances, and I’ve come with a number of matters to discuss.”
    â€œLibrary business, no doubt,” Evelyn said. “Mr. McCallum is an important person at Yale.”
    â€œ
Si
, he is indeed,” Benicio agreed.
    â€œEvelyn,” the priest said. “I shouldn’t want to bore you with our business. Shall I invite Dr. Valori upstairs to my flat?”
    â€œYou may do whatever you like,” she answered. “But I’m going to put on some tea and