Violet Eden Chapters 04 - Endless

didn’t want my help. Not yet.
    The priest looked around the quiet church. ‘Well, it’s times like these when the house of God puts it best, and most stubborn, foot forward. We’ll hope no trouble comes to us, but best we prepare for it anyway.’
    Priest or not – he’s a fighter for sure.
    Good.

    Father Peters wasted notime. He gave Lincoln and me a quick tour of the areas in the church we could use for defence and attack, showing us all the entry points and possible weaknesses in the building’s structure. Finally, he took us down to his private chambers. Lincoln and I both took a moment to absorb the sight before us.
    ‘That’s a lot of weapons to have in a house of God,’ I said.
    He shrugged. ‘It won’t be the first time Christians have needed them. Nor the last.’
    He had a point.
    ‘And on top of that,’ he continued, ‘we’re in New York city and I’m trying to run an honest church – if I have to blow something up occasionally to get rid of some of the darkness … I’m not above it.’
    I really liked him.
    Lincoln snorted beside me and when I looked at him I realised it had been directed at me.
    ‘What?’
    ‘You didn’t trust him when he was just a priest, but now you know he’s willing to blow things up, you look like you’ve just confirmed him as a friend for life.’
    I nodded, smiling. ‘I have.’
    Father Peters laughed even as he shook his head. ‘Griffin always finds the good ones.’
    When we returned to ground level, the priest flicked a switch and metal shields started rolling down over all of the upper-level windows, going far beyond standard church security.
    ‘Is that …’ I began.
    ‘Titanium?’ he finished my sentence with a raised brow. ‘You’re a smart cookie.’
    ‘Why?’ Iasked, nervously. Titanium was metal that exiles used as a defensive tool. It helped them stay hidden from Grigori. Phoenix had an entire Antanov plane lined with the stuff.
    Peters shrugged, waiting for the last covers to click into place before taking his hand off the lever. ‘Titanium doesn’t just protect exiles. It works both ways.’
    ‘You mean it affects exiles’ ability to sense us too?’
    He nodded. ‘Not as effectively, but still, every little bit counts in these situations. Grigori generally stay away from it because they think the advantages are greater for exiles. I disagree.’
    I hadn’t considered it before but, especially in our current circumstances, I had to agree with Peters’ logic. If nothing else, the physical strength of the titanium shields would help hold any attackers at bay for a time.
    I turned my attention to Lincoln. Almost all the colour had drained from his face.
    ‘We still have a while before Griffin arrives. Sit,’ I ordered.
    Lincoln hesitated for a moment, but finally dropped into a chair so that I could heal him. I knelt in front of him and rolled up his ripped, blood-soaked jeans.
    ‘Don’t fuss,’ he said, quietly.
    ‘Don’t back-seat drive,’ I retorted. I was so relieved to finally have my chance to fix him, I didn’t even care that Father Peters was watching. I pulled back the remaining scraps of fabric to get a good look at Lincoln’s leg. ‘Mother of–’
    ‘A-hem,’ Father Peters cleared his throat loudly.
    ‘Sorry,’ I apologised then glanced at Lincoln. ‘You should’ve let me look at this earlier,’ I said, cross with him. His leg was twice the size it was supposed to be and bubbled with red welts and black bruises.
    He closed his eyes, tryingto hide the pain. ‘It wasn’t important.’
    I continued to fume even as I let my power surge into him. He tried to stop me a few times, saying I’d done enough, but I wasn’t having it.
    After healing his leg, I checked the rest of his body, finding more problems in his ribs that he hadn’t mentioned and that his shoulder was still very weak.
    Lincoln couldn’t contain a sigh of relief when the pain that must have been torturing him finally eased.
    Eventually, I sat back on my heels. Both of us were silent as we pulled ourselves together.
    ‘Well, well,’ said Father Peters. ‘And they say miracles don’t happen these days.’
    I gave him a sceptical look as I settled down beside Lincoln for the wait.
    ‘No offence, but you should know my jury is well and truly out on the God issue,’ I said to Peters.
    My comment only seemed to amuse him. He sat on a low step at the base of the marble altar. ‘You might not have made your mind up about Him, but He