impervious to sorrow. Hard as I tried to invoke that part of me, I could not. He had touched my heart, and the human side of me had responded to his loving nature. I loved him, needed him to make me whole, and because of my calling, he was lost to me, forever.
* * * *
Bernard
The time we spent in Los Angeles as guests of Marcus and Roger was indeed a joy.
They and their friends went out of their way to ensure we enjoyed all that the city’s nightlife had to offer. Still, the most pleasant times for me were when we were joined by Jean-Claude, his mortal lover Ron, Joseph and Micah. We sat in our small group, the eight of us, drinking wine and talking.
Micah, only recently one of us, but so in love with Joseph that he hung on his every word, was a delight. Still human in his mannerisms and given to bursts of spontaneous laughter, he was like a breath of fresh air in our sometimes too-long existences. I was happy for Joseph. He had suffered much in his lifetime and truly deserved the love and happiness he had found with Micah. The small intimate party they gave in their new apartment to celebrate their first year together was, for me, the highlight of our stay in Los Angeles.
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We were able to watch the consecration of the new Pope on TV. Pietro was puzzled by the choice, as were a number of people. Cardinal Enrico
Ferriti…not a name he or I was familiar with, yet from somewhere in my memory, Ferriti’s face struck a chord. I just could not quite place the where or the when.
Pietro saw him first. He gripped my arm and pointed. “Look, Bernard. The priest from the library, the one standing by the Pope’s side. Is it not him?” And it was. There was no mistaking the tall, young, handsome man who stood quietly by Ferriti as he blessed the crowd of well-wishers gathered around them.
“Marcus,” I exclaimed. “That’s the priest we told you about,” I said. “The young man who has been coming to the library for over a hundred years.” “He looks good for being over a hundred,” Roger remarked. “Is he a vampire do you think? Oh wait…” He chuckled softly. “Duh…he couldn’t be out in the sunlight if he was.”
“Not a vampire, certainly,” Marcus said, gazing at the young-looking man intently.
“But only part human…”
“And Ferriti?” I asked.
“Old…he’s very old.” Marcus frowned as he stared at the new Pope’s handsome face.
“Does he not look familiar to you, Bernard?”
“There is something about him,” I agreed. “The name, no, but the face…like someone I vaguely knew many years ago.” “Yes, I feel that too.” He paused, in deep thought, then he got up and left the room.
Pietro, Roger and I continued watching the news coverage until Marcus returned some time later, a sheet of paper in his hand.
“Look,” he said quietly. I took the paper from him and gasped at the image imprinted on it. “I researched old portraits of former Popes on the internet,” Marcus explained. “This portrait is of Pope Alexander who ruled from 1508 to 1511—”
“Such a short time,” Pietro remarked, looking over my shoulder at the man’s image.
“He looks exactly like Ferriti.”
“I am sure it is Ferriti,” Marcus said.
“Wow,” Roger muttered, his eyes straying from the image I held then back to the TV
screen. “He’s an immortal, then?”
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Marcus nodded. “He has conquered death by some means. I would guess he must have been in league with the Wizard Brotherhood…” “Those guys again,” Roger snorted. “Man, they’re really a pain in the ass!”
“Were,” Marcus corrected him. “Darius’ betrayal was the end of them, but they spread their knowledge of the dark arts to anyone they deemed useful. Ferriti must have some plan they approved of.”
“He’s waited a long time,” I said.
“For the end of days,” Pietro murmured, gripping my arm. “Remember, the young priest studied nothing else. The
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