Standing up, Cole put his spear into its harness and then collected the sickles. “Check back with me in a few days. There’s one more stop I need to make.”
Epilogue
Cole felt strange going to the cathedral in the section of St. Louis known as Dog Town. The last time he’d been to St. James the Greater was when people were still worried about the Mud Flu. Lancroft’s plague seemed like a fond memory compared to the circumstances that brought him back to that chapel on Tamm Avenue. When he tried the door, he found it was locked. His knocks were answered by a stout, balding man wearing glasses that were thick enough to be bulletproof. As soon as the man laid eyes on him, he flashed a wide, friendly smile.
“I remember you!” he said. “Looks like things’ve been rough since we last met.”
Cole’s hand drifted to the three fresh scars that ran down his left temple and picked up again to form three similar gouges on that side of his chin. Since touching the scars would only make them itch, he pulled his hand away and asked, “Can I come in?”
“Where’s Paige?”
Cole twitched but was too tired to react more than that. “Mind if I come in?”
The man with the glasses nodded and opened the door the rest of the way. “Probably a good idea. Nowadays, Dog Town really lives up to the name. Had to keep the place locked up so the wolves wouldn’t get in. Hasn’t been too bad for a little while now, though.”
It was cold, but the layers Cole wore beneath his stitched-up coat kept away the chill. He walked straight through a small room filled with chairs and folding tables to the cathedral, pausing as soon as he got a look at the familiar stained-glass windows and statuary. Even the smell brought back memories. When he clenched his fist, he swore he could feel Paige’s hand in his grasp. “I shouldn’t have come here,” he said.
The man behind the glasses rubbed Cole’s shoulder. “Don’t be silly! What’s this place for if not to give shelter to a fella like you? You’re not about to sprout fur and fangs are ya?” he asked with a subtle St. Louis drawl.
“No,” Cole replied with an uneasy laugh. When he felt his strength start to ebb, he lowered himself down onto one of the pews.
“I didn’t catch yer name,” the man said as he sat down beside him.
“Cole.”
“I’m Bill. Can I get something for you to drink? We’ve got coffee, or maybe something stronger?”
“No thanks.”
After folding his hands across an ample belly, Bill sat quietly for a few seconds before saying, “Paige won’t be coming, will she?”
That one almost broke Cole all the way down to the center of his chest. He pushed back the pain so he could shake his head without falling apart. “Nope.” Once he pulled himself together, he asked, “How did you know?”
“I could see it on your face. You want me to get one of the priests to have a word with you?”
“You knew Paige?”
“Yeah,” Bill said fondly. “She didn’t come in a lot, but she was busy. Especially,” he added in a guarded whisper, “with all the important work she was doing.”
“You knew about that too, huh?”
Bill nodded. “I had a close call myself with one of those wolf things long before they showed up on the news. We would talk to each other because ’most anybody else around here would think we were nuts.” Gazing up at the altar, he said, “She once told me that she would be fine with . . . well . . . passing on, just so long as it was for a good cause. Always wanted to go down swingin’, you know?”
“I do.”
“Did she?”
“Oh yeah.”
Bill nodded, smirked, and then pulled a handkerchief from a pocket so he could dab his eyes.
Cole sat there, looking at the murals Paige had enjoyed, hoping to draw strength from the same source that she’d gone to when she needed it most. He even thought about praying for the courage to walk even further into the fire that had already burnt him so badly. When he found he wasn’t able to go through those unfamiliar motions, he just closed his eyes and let the soft, funny memories rush in along with the painful and annoying ones. For the moment, that’s all he owned and all he needed.
The fight would still be there when he found the strength to stand up.
And because of Paige, he had more strength than he’d ever thought possible.
About the Author
MARCUS PELEGRIMAS graduated from the University of Nebraska with a degree in Criminal Justice as research to become a maniacal super villain. When too many of his plans were thwarted, he went back to his first love: writing. He is also an active member of the Nevermore Paranormal ghost-hunting group. That one worked out much better than the world domination thing. Visit Marcus on the web at
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Dedication
Many thanks to everyone who helped me through a very tough year. You listened to me when I ranted and were still there when I ran out of steam. The brownies you sent helped more than you know.
Very special thanks go out to Karen. You’re a great editor and an incredible friend.
I wouldn’t have wanted to do this without you.
