Free The Devil & Lillian Holmes by Ciar Cullen

regretted coming terribly close to calling the great man a coward. Doyle didn’t know the city, perhaps didn’t even know his way back to his hotel.
    “At least you’ll be safe from pickpockets in my company, sir!”
    Doyle laughed. “Capital. Do call me Arthur.”
    Johnnie straightened, suddenly hoping the pompous Walrus was watching. Won’t Aileen be proud when I tell her this great man asked me to call him Arthur!

CHAPTER NINE
    Driving the snakes from America.
    Phillip put his finger to Kitty’s mouth to silence her gasps at the magnificence of the cathedral. He reminded himself that while he’d lived in a castle and seen the natural and manmade treasures the world had to offer, Kitty’s life had started on a small farm in Ireland. Since she was a girl, she’d spent nearly all her time as a cleaning woman for a bakery, a jewelry shop, and two spinster sisters in Baltimore. Her artistic talent had brought her some modest success recently and she could now live in comfort without his fortune, but even her love for a vampire hadn’t purged her totally of naivety. She was devoted to her Catholic God, and now she was in His house.
    Phillip shrugged, having seen far grander cathedrals, but he didn’t mention that to Kitty, who rushed to put a penny in the box and to light a candle. He knelt next to her and whispered, “Do not move from this spot, Kitty. I will try to make this quick.”
    She stared up at him, her beautiful blue eyes sad. “Does it hurt you to be in a church?”
    “Oh, love, no, it does not at all!”
    But he lied. It hurt just a bit. He could dip his hand in blessed water and make the sign of the cross without consequence, but an irrational fear that some great holy man might divine his true nature always nagged at him. No matter, though. How many truly holy men resided in New York?
    He sniffed out a laugh and rubbed at Kitty’s shoulder. “Whether he is here or not, I’ll be but a moment. At least, that is my hope.”
    Phillip had found Chauncey Sullivan’s home easily enough, but not the man. He didn’t expect to find the giant in church despite the wife’s assurances; no doubt Chauncey had made excuses to her to cover other escapades. But, as Phillip strode quietly along the aisle, he saw his quarry midway up the nave, sitting in a central pew.
    So, Sullivan’s yearning for redemption was this deep? This boded well for his mission.
    Phillip slid into the pew next to Chauncey and moved close.
    The vampire didn’t even turn, just threaded his fingers together as if to calm himself. He said, “How long has it been, Phillip?”
    “You don’t seem surprised to see me.”
    “Somehow, I’m not. Phoebe is a trusting sort, isn’t she?”
    “She’s lovely. I’m happy for you.”
    “Yes, she is. She frets for me, wanting me to pray but worrying for me when I come here to do it.”
    “You don’t strike me as superstitious, Chauncey. The holy water and crucifix won’t hurt you.”
    Sullivan turned to Phillip with a smirk. “The good fathers would drag me out for being a Negro, Phillip. It is why I come only at night. That’s a bit ironic, wouldn’t you say?”
    Phillip groaned, and they sat in silence for a minute, taking in the gilt and glowing candles that threw shadows on the altar and statues. Then Phillip suggested, “You could go anywhere, live as a king in another land.”
    “You were a king, as I recall. Or was that your brother? Did it bring much happiness?”
    “You’re really as miserable as I recall. Isn’t it time you put all that in the past?”
    Chauncey turned, an inscrutable expression on his face. “I sense you are going to tell me exactly what I should do to obtain a bit of peace. I also sense that you came to New York to find me for a very particular purpose.” He stared harder at Phillip. “I’m feeling a bit peckish, so get on with it.”
    Phillip rubbed his hands together, fully aware that Chauncey could kill him in an instant. “Your Marie de Bourbon