Chapter 2
If joy seemed to lift its spirits in the air; then sorrow weighted it down, making the air at the convent heavy and stifling.
Cordy shivered, feeling the tension, and watched the nuns milling about, a muffled sob heard here and there. An arm draped about her as if to warm her, and she looked up at Angel and smiled sadly.
“They’re so….connected to each other. I don’t know them, but they seem stronger because they’re together.”
Angel nodded absently, looking around. He’d seen enough sorrow and destruction ….hell; he’d caused enough sorrow and destruction in his time, to know that this was heartfelt and deep.
The soft clink caught his attention, and he looked out at the nuns to see several of them drop to their knees and clutch rosary beads in pressed hands.
The praying, the genuflecting, the ritual. He had learned it as a child, and scorned it as a young man, then tried to destroy it as a demon. Holy sites always brought a feeling of…nausea…to him. Nausea, followed by a headiness and a flash of bloodlust that he had, over a period of years, managed to tamper down.
He braced himself and pushed the memories to the back of his mind. Cordy looked up at him again.
“What is it?” Her voice was soft in the stillness.
“Um. Nothing. We’re not going to get a closer look; they’ve already called the police.”
“If you will all come with me, I can see to it that you get the investigatory leeway you require.” Cordy jumped at Angel’s side.
He gripped her closer reflexively, and they turned to face a small, elderly woman in a faded bathrobe and Garfield slippers. She looked up at them from her small stature and nodded, as if confirming something to herself. “Please, come with me.” And she turned and walked back towards an open door, slowly.
Wes looked at Gunn and they followed, keeping to the shadows, with Cordy and Angel behind them. The woman led them down an indoor corridor to a small office, tucked into a remote corner of the hallway.
They all crammed into the small space and Angel pushed Cordy down onto the one chair that faced the wooden, scarred desk. The woman sat behind the desk, facing them, and Cordy got a good look at her for the first time.
It was a gentle face, lined with soft fine wrinkles. Her eyes were clear blue, and soft wisps of grey hair had slipped out of a neat braid down her back to frizzle around her face. She sat facing them, and they all stood at attention as if she had commanded it.
She looked across the desk at Cordy and smiled, a sad, resigned smile.
“You have been sent to help us, yes?” Cordy looked up at Angel as he gazed at the woman. “You four. You have been directed here to war against this evil?”
No one spoke for a moment, then the woman nodded. “Forgive me. I am distraught in a difficult time. I am Sister Bertha, Mother Superior of The Order of Our Lady of Grace. I have hoped of your arrival before now, but now will have to do.”
“I don’t understand…um…Sister Bertha.”
“Please. Sister Bert.”
“All righty. Sister Bert.” Cordy looked up at Wesley, who glanced back, confused. She looked back at the elderly nun. “We weren’t really expecting to be here….we just…heard…sort of….of some kind of trouble….”
“Evil. Evil has come in and has settled down in our community. You have come to master it, and to repell it from our presence. I was told of this.”
“You were told we were coming.” Angel’s voice was calm. “Who told you?”
She smiled at him gently. “I was told by one who lives in the night and wears his heart brightly. I told of the forces that have arrived here; forces that I cannot bring myself to tell about to the church office. Who would ever believe me?”
She met Cordelia’s gaze. “But I found someone who did believe me, and who knew that of which I feared, and he told me to not be concerned, that four warriors would receive a sign, and would come to our aid. I knew my prayers would be answered. You are here. Donum do Angelus.”
Cordy’s eyes went wide and she turned to look up at Angel, who remained still behind her chair. “It means ‘Gift of the Angels’.” Angels’ voice was flat and he kept his gaze locked on the nun. “Is this the first murder you’ve had?”
She looked down at her desk. “No. Two weeks ago Sister Cecilia was found dead in the rose gardens. It remains unsolved. Last week Sister Luisa was found in the belfry. The blood….” Her voice trailed off as she stopped to compose herself.
“Forgive me. Most of us had not witnessed that degree of…..harm….before. I knew that we were dealing with something beyond a madman. I have felt…an evil presence. I am also not so young a woman that I am blind to some truths about the world. I knew we needed help.”
She rose and walked two steps to the filing cabinet, opening it and pulling out the top drawer and reaching clear into the back to pull out a small pink card. She handed it to Wesley, who was closest to her. He took it and his eyes widened before he passed it to Angel.
“Caritas. The Finest in Entertainment. Ask for The Host.” Angel looked up at Sister Bert as she sat back down.
“I was given this once, and saved it. While praying, I suddenly remembered this card. I went for a visit.”
Cordy barked out a laugh. “YOU? You visited Caritas?”
“Oh, my, yes. That Lorne, he’s a dear. He makes a mean seabreeze.” Cordy’s mouth fell open and Gunn gently reached down and tapped it shut. “He and I talked at length, and of course I sang….”
“I know I’m gonna regret this…” Gunn muttered. “What did you sing?”
“Draw Near and Take the Body of the Lord.” They all nodded and murmered, ahhh. She went on, oblivious. “He was a most astute young…um…man. He told me to not worry, you would soon arrive.” She smiled gently. “My prayers were answered.”
The smile faded from her face. “Tonight, this was Sister Bernadine. She had only come to our order three weeks ago, I am afraid I didn’t know her very well yet. I will, of course, need to call her parents. She was so very young….” Her voice tapered off as her face seemed to weather and age with the thought of the duty she faced.
Angel had been silent and still, and his voice was low when he spoke. “We need to be able to investigate, Sister. We need to be able to talk to the nuns…” but Mother Superior was shaking her head.
“We are a cloistered order, Mr…..Mr…….”
“Angel.” He shifted from one foot to another as if uncomfortable.
“Angel. Really?” Sister Bert peered up at him. “Isn’t that a coincidence….anyway, we are a cloistered order. We interact little with the outside world, especially our younger girls. I am afraid that any outside interference would be looked at with the utmost of suspicion.”
She tapped her fingers a moment on the ancient desk. “I do think, however, that with discretion, there is a way to provide access without damaging the unity of our order.”
“Undercover work? Of course.” Wesley nodded. “That makes perfect sense. How could we…”
“We have been without our Father Confessor for several months now.” The nun’s lips tightened just a bit. “We are a small and self-sustaining order, and the church has other priorities than establishing a new office of Confessor, at least for the time being.”
“A Priest?” Wesley nodded. “We can do that. I suppose I could serve in that role. It would be for, what, a few days at most. We can use my newness to explain my separation from the order. I’m finding my way around and getting settled.”
Mother Superior nodded. “I had hoped for an outcome like this. It will be comforting to have a man around, and this will give access to your friends…” She smiled at Gunn and Angel. “You can slip in and out, aided by our new Father.”
They all sat there, thinking a moment, then Cordy spoke up. “Ok, apparently we’re all on board with the lying to the kind sweet nuns, but what do you want me to do?”
Silence met her question, and she looked up at Wesley, who looked at Gunn, who looked at Angel, who pressed his lips together and glared down at Cordy.
She looked back and forth between the three of them. “What?”