sighed. "And I worked so hard improving your vocabulary, taking it from the gutter. Now you revert."
"Forbid me! Are you forgetting who is in command here?"
"Not at all, my dear. Calm yourself. I was merely attempting to be practical about this matter. Roma, consider the risk factor. One: even should you seduce the young man without cheating, having a demon child would kill you. That is written. Secondly: the Master would surely void your plan. Oh, Roma … go fuck the young man, any way you can, and get it out of—or in your case—into your system. Then forget it. We have matters of much greater urgency here."
She whirled and stalked from the room, cursing under her breath. Falcon watched her leave, slamming the door. He stood and slowly shook his head. A pity, he thought, to be so obsessed by the memory of Balon. She fell in love with a Man of God.
He shuddered at the thought. How degrading!
"They stopped watching us," Nydia said. "I could feel her eyes when they left me. They're planning something, Sam."
"Sure they are. Evil. I just wish I knew what I—we—are supposed to do about it. Do I have a free hand? I don't know. Nydia? I … we're stumbling around in the dark with this thing. I don't know what to do. Yes, all right, my dad appeared and wrote me a letter. I've convinced myself we didn't dream it. A sign of the cross is burned—burned—into my chest. Okay, I'll accept that I've been chosen … but, damn it, honey … chosen to do what? I have to assume that I am to follow in my dad's footsteps; do what he did back in Whitfield in the fifties." He stopped at the edge of the deep timber and sat down on a large rock, Nydia beside him.
"Dad was trying to tell us something about our being related. But what? He said it wasn't a holy union. Does that make our feelings all right? I'm going to say it does. I can't help the way I feel about you. We were drawn together from the moment we met. You felt it, I felt it. And we'll just leave it at that.
"Mother always said I was just like my dad. I guess the service proved it: it … really doesn't bother me to kill. I can't say much about it, although I don't know what it would matter now, to you, I mean, but sometimes Special Troops have to kill. Cold-bloodedly. A very few get picked to do that. I got picked. I did my job. I came back to base. I did that several times. No guilt feelings. None at all. No remorse. No nothing. I think Dad must have been like that.
"Okay, then. I'll do whatever in the hell—that's an odd word to pick, isn't it—I'm supposed to do. I'm hearing voices in my head; words pop out of my mouth that are alien to me; I know things that mortals aren't supposed to know—and don't ask me to explain any of it. I can't. So I'll just have to wait until someone, or something, gives me the green light with instructions."
She put her arms around him and held him. And as has been the case for thousands of years, woman gave her strength to man through her touch, her gentleness, her understanding … and the fact that women are the more mercenary of the species.
"We'll both know when it's time, Sam," she told him, holding him. "I believe that. And I believe that our feelings for each other are right. And you must believe it."
Holding hands, they walked into the timber, and the silence of God's free nature seemed to make them stronger, and draw them closer. The mood was almost religious, the towering trees a nondenominational cathedral silently growing around the young couple. They came to a small, rushing creek and sat on a log by the bubbling waters.
"Tell me more about being a Christian, Sam."
"I don't know that much about it, Nydia. I … sometimes think it's a … feeling one must have. And I don't have it very often."
"I think you're a better person than you will admit to being, Sam."
"I've killed in cold blood," he said softly. "Before I was twenty years old."
"Yet you've been chosen by a higher power to do … something good here on
"Forbid me! Are you forgetting who is in command here?"
"Not at all, my dear. Calm yourself. I was merely attempting to be practical about this matter. Roma, consider the risk factor. One: even should you seduce the young man without cheating, having a demon child would kill you. That is written. Secondly: the Master would surely void your plan. Oh, Roma … go fuck the young man, any way you can, and get it out of—or in your case—into your system. Then forget it. We have matters of much greater urgency here."
She whirled and stalked from the room, cursing under her breath. Falcon watched her leave, slamming the door. He stood and slowly shook his head. A pity, he thought, to be so obsessed by the memory of Balon. She fell in love with a Man of God.
He shuddered at the thought. How degrading!
"They stopped watching us," Nydia said. "I could feel her eyes when they left me. They're planning something, Sam."
"Sure they are. Evil. I just wish I knew what I—we—are supposed to do about it. Do I have a free hand? I don't know. Nydia? I … we're stumbling around in the dark with this thing. I don't know what to do. Yes, all right, my dad appeared and wrote me a letter. I've convinced myself we didn't dream it. A sign of the cross is burned—burned—into my chest. Okay, I'll accept that I've been chosen … but, damn it, honey … chosen to do what? I have to assume that I am to follow in my dad's footsteps; do what he did back in Whitfield in the fifties." He stopped at the edge of the deep timber and sat down on a large rock, Nydia beside him.
"Dad was trying to tell us something about our being related. But what? He said it wasn't a holy union. Does that make our feelings all right? I'm going to say it does. I can't help the way I feel about you. We were drawn together from the moment we met. You felt it, I felt it. And we'll just leave it at that.
"Mother always said I was just like my dad. I guess the service proved it: it … really doesn't bother me to kill. I can't say much about it, although I don't know what it would matter now, to you, I mean, but sometimes Special Troops have to kill. Cold-bloodedly. A very few get picked to do that. I got picked. I did my job. I came back to base. I did that several times. No guilt feelings. None at all. No remorse. No nothing. I think Dad must have been like that.
"Okay, then. I'll do whatever in the hell—that's an odd word to pick, isn't it—I'm supposed to do. I'm hearing voices in my head; words pop out of my mouth that are alien to me; I know things that mortals aren't supposed to know—and don't ask me to explain any of it. I can't. So I'll just have to wait until someone, or something, gives me the green light with instructions."
She put her arms around him and held him. And as has been the case for thousands of years, woman gave her strength to man through her touch, her gentleness, her understanding … and the fact that women are the more mercenary of the species.
"We'll both know when it's time, Sam," she told him, holding him. "I believe that. And I believe that our feelings for each other are right. And you must believe it."
Holding hands, they walked into the timber, and the silence of God's free nature seemed to make them stronger, and draw them closer. The mood was almost religious, the towering trees a nondenominational cathedral silently growing around the young couple. They came to a small, rushing creek and sat on a log by the bubbling waters.
"Tell me more about being a Christian, Sam."
"I don't know that much about it, Nydia. I … sometimes think it's a … feeling one must have. And I don't have it very often."
"I think you're a better person than you will admit to being, Sam."
"I've killed in cold blood," he said softly. "Before I was twenty years old."
"Yet you've been chosen by a higher power to do … something good here on
Similar Books
