#priest!tom

I was pleased that I had time earlier that day to write out a shopping list. It was a Thursday evening and I forced myself to make a quick trip to the supermarket so that I could pick up some extra supplies for the church bake sale on Sunday. Father Thomas had warned me that they had sold out of sweet treats for the past two years, and then he had winked and said that it was primarily his fault, he had a sweet tooth and a crippling weakness for anything sugary. I had blushed, feeling light headed by his words for no apparent reason, and I had spent the rest of the night awake staring at the ceiling and wondering what all these feelings meant. I shook my head, trying to abandon the thoughts of that night and instead focus on the task at hand.

I looked down at my list debating whether to buy milk or white chocolate chips but my train of thought was interrupted when I saw a familiar figure in the corner of my eye. My eyes left my list without hesitation, seeking out the tall man across the aisle from me. Father Thomas. I could always recognise him, if not for his height then for the way he carried himself or the gentle sound of his voice. Or for those hands… I swallowed nervously, trying to recite the Lord’s prayer in my head to distract myself but when I thought of those words all I could think about was him. The intonation of his voice guiding us all through prayer, and me through a private fantasy. I had to press my thighs together to stop myself from fidgeting too much in the pew, lest I earn myself some strange looks from the other members of the congregation.

I watched as he opened a box of eggs, his fingers prodding to check none were broken. I wondered helplessly if I should actually go over to talk to him or continue staring at him like some kind of pervert. Before my mind could come to a decision my legs were moving and I almost bumped into him.

“Father Thomas, fancy seeing you here” I said trying to sound casual even though my face felt like it was on fire.

“Even priests need eggs” he joked, he looked in my basket “extra supplies for the bake sale?”

“Um, yes” I stammered “I wanted to make sure I made enough cookies for everyone.”

“A good idea. Cookies are always popular, and I simply can’t wait to get my hands on yours.” His eyes bore into mine and I had to look down and break eye contact before I melted on the spot. It felt odd seeing him without his collar. He looked like a normal man in his jeans and t shirt instead of a priest. If only…

“So Father” I blurted out, trying to look for a way to change the subject quickly “what have you been up to since Sunday?”

“Just getting everything organised for the bake sale” he said, and he continued to list off calls that were made and bible verses he had been thinking on. Safe talk. I breathed a sigh of relief, listening to the cadence of his voice as he talked about how the money would go to towards a new Sunday school classroom.

“It all sounds like so much, you must have been up late last night, I hope you’re not working yourself too hard. Taking breaks is important.”

Father Thomas smiled “yes, it’s been quite stressful but rest assured I took a break last night. I, uh” he smirked “had a second coming of sorts last night and it truly helped relax me.”

“A second coming?” I frowned as I tried to work out what he meant.

“Yes I was quite frustrated too, but I swear to you when it happened I thought I saw God” he smiled wistfully.

“I’m not sure what you mean Father” I admitted.

When neither headache nor dizziness hit him, he went to take a quick shower and dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt. In this weather Colleen was sure to be outside with the boys or helping Jeannie, but he checked her room just in case.

The door was slightly ajar and after knocking he stepped in. The bed was still ruffled and he smiled, thinking about last night. Just as he turned to go, he noticed a letter on the desk, with his name on it. Puzzled he picked it up and unfolded it.

“Dear Tom,

this is the worst way to do this, but the only route I can take. When I took my walk this morning I met Michael. Of course my first instinct was the run, but he stopped me physically. At first I didn't want to listen to anything he had to say, but now I'm glad I did.

He told me a truth about me that my family didn't know. He wanted to gain access to the mansion through me, hoping it would take us longer to find out what he is. He had planned it for a long time. The horrible truth is that my father was just like Michael and was send by him to seduce my mother. He lured her away from her family and spent the next 27 years by her side, watching over her and over me. Maybe he loved her, maybe he didn't but that doesn't matter any more. What matter is that I'm like him. The reason you're ill is me – last night I fed on you.

I can't stay with you, I will only hurt you. He can show me how to control this, how to live with this. I'm not following him to become like him. I despise what he did to my mother, that he basically tried to breed a mate for himself, but he is the only one who can teach me.

My family would have found out about me the moment my cousin would have arrived. He can see demons and that is what I am.

I fear I'll never see you again. Even if I learn to control this, you'd never be save.

I feared to say it yesterday and I won't burden you with saying it today, but please know that you'll always be in my thoughts.

Colleen”

Margaret found Tom kneeling on the floor of Colleen's room, clutching the tear stained letter. She helped him up and lead him from the room.  

This is the epilogue to The Demon Inside. I'm nearly sorry I sprung it on you like this, but I just had to. 

I'm already planning how it will continue, Colleen's travels with Michael and Tom's tries to find her and get her back. 

I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it. Please do leave comments and criticism. I love you all. 

It made Colleen terribly nervous, she hated not knowing if he was still around. She was very relieved that no dreams troubled her sleep any more. Every morning she woke up refreshed and feeling a bit stronger. Looking back now, she felt reminded of her time as a teenager when she had suffered from iron deficiency. From time to time she caught herself thinking of Michael as her boyfriend, missing him and wanting to call him. Every time it happened she got her calendar and checked it again. She had noted everything about their relationship in it, a black on white memento of the sheer absurdity. She also had called Mary to warn her about Michael, not quite telling her what had happened, but saying he was a con-artist and a liar. Mary promised to not let him in or believe anything he said, but still Colleen wondered if she had endangered her friends. Had that evening been enough for him to put them under his spell? Tom tried to distract her, mainly by making Cedric show them around the mansion and grounds. It really helped her. She was fascinated by the oldest parts of the house and some ruins on the grounds where smaller buildings had been. There had been a time when the Menadue property had been like a small village.

Four days passed without any real news. Tom and Colleen spent most of the time reading the old books and getting to know the family. Grainne and her sons were very happy about the fresh blood and Colleen noticed how good Tom was with children. Grainne helped her identify family members in photos, telling her stories about those who were away to make it easier for Colleen to remember names once there were more people at the mansion.

One evening Margaret took Colleen to her office suite again, to tell her about her inheritance.

"When you were born, we opened a savings account in your name. Enid didn't want to know anything about it and she also rejected the money that was hers. We kept both accounts, because you have a right to them. I will draw up all the papers to transfer them into your name."

"I'm not sure what to say. I don't really need that money, I think. I have to admit that at the moment I would just love to stay here, but I also have a life in London," Colleen told her.

"I can imagine you're pretty overwhelmed at the moment. Your mother and father seemed to have made a good life for themselves and I'm sure you can also. But apart from the fact that it is your money, I also really want you to have it. If only for the protection it can buy you. I have no idea how Michael found you, but you're not anonymous any more."

Colleen nodded.

"I wondered that myself. I mean how he found me and if maybe mum just wanted to protect me from exactly that. I never had any notion that anything supernatural could be real."

Margaret frowned and after a moment replied: "I wish I could tell you. We grew up with the credo that not knowing endangers you too much. Your blood alone makes you a target. And I mean that literally. If a demon gets hold of your blood, he can track you and with some magic involved he can try to track family members, too."

"But if mum knew all that, why didn't she tell me anything? She kept reporting demons, but even shushed my father when he tried to talk about the family."

"He didn't have family himself did he?" asked Margaret.

"He was an only child and there was his mother. I always loved being with her, but they never talked about any other family members."

"Much of your ancestry lies in shadows," Margaret intoned and they both giggled.

"So, my dear. There are two more things. The first: think about if you want to take on our name. We'll of course understand if you want to keep your father's name, but you are welcome to call yourself Colleen Menadue or Stewart-Menadue. Just think about it. Even if you decide to stay in London, you're one of us and you always have been."

Colleen nodded, feeling her heart soar when she heard that name spoken out aloud.

"The second thing is, that your mother was very gifted at seeing demons. From what you told me, you could only see the one in London with the help of the cross, right?"

"Yes, he looked very normal, except for a few seconds," Colleen confirmed.

"There is a way to wake up a latent talent. It works only if you have the talent and we can't be sure you have it. Think about this, too. I don't want to push you into this. If this talent is in you, you'd be a great asset, but it can also be a burden. I think you should talk about it with somebody who carries that burden before you decide. One of your cousins who will be here next week will be there to talk with you."

"It's a lot to take in," Colleen confessed. "I will take my time to wrap my head around all of it. At the moment I really want to help you, but I also know that I shouldn't decide things to quickly."

Margaret beamed a smile at her. "I see you have Enid's sensible mind."

After almost a week at the mansion, Tom lingered at her door when they said good-night. Ever since coming here they only shared hugs and almost chaste kisses. The family didn't say anything, but Colleen had the feeling they wouldn't mind at all if they'd show their affection more openly.

“You want to come in?” she asked shyly. He nodded and she pulled him over the threshold by the hand. For a moment they just stood there in her room and looked at each other. He seemed to look for some kind of answer on her face, while she tried her best to be neutral. She still felt bad about being the reason he wanted to leave the church behind.

“You're still worrying to much, Colleen,” he whispered and gently ran a finger over her cheek. She smiled and looked up at him. “You already know me too well.”

He lightly shook his head. “I want to know you so much better. I want to be there for you in good times and bad, I...,” but she interrupted him by putting a finger to his lips.

“Don't. Let's just be for a while. There is so much happening, so many important decisions. Let us just be ourselves for a while.” He nodded and drew her into an embrace. It felt so good standing there with him, wrapped in his warmth.

“Will you stay tonight?” she asked softly and felt his “Yes.” rumbling in his chest. She looked up and he gently kissed her, holding her close. She took a step back and slowly undid her blouse, setting it aside on a chair. He pulled his shirt over his head and removed his trousers while she stepped out of her skirt. They walked over to the bed, laying down next to each other. Tom lay on his back and Colleen on her side, facing him, supporting her head with her arm. He raised his hand to cup her face and gently caressed her cheek with his thumb.

“You are beautiful, Colleen,” he whispered and pulled her in for another kiss. It was an unhurried and tender kiss. They took it slowly, as if it was their first time. Tom's hands wandered over her body at the same pace, as if they wanted to explore it, discover it anew. She held his head in both hands and suppressed a shiver whenever he touched a sensitive spot, but he noticed it every time and seemed to mark it, drawing a map of her body in his mind. She pressed herself more firmly against him, feeling an urge rise in her, fanned by his fingers on her skin. He wrapped his arms around her and hoisted her onto his body, cupping her ass and digging his hands into her hair to keep her from sitting up. She could feel his erection against her and rubbed herself against him, making him groan. Their movements were more demanding now, his fingers digging into her skin and her hips undulating harder into him.

He became still for a moment and she opened her eyes, finding him studying her face.

“What is it?” she asked breathlessly.

“I know you wanted to just be, but...” he murmured and stopped himself.

“It's okay, Tom. Say it,” she whispered.

“This is it. This is what made me decided. Not the lust, not the feverish urge. You complete me. With you I feel more whole than when I received the holy communion.”

She swallowed and kissed him hard. He clutched at her as if he feared she might ran away, but she didn't. She slowly slid off of him, but kept their body contact, holding him close all the time. When she lay on her back and he on top of her with half his body, she shimmied out of her knickers and reached for his boxer shorts. He helped her draw them down and then wrapped himself around her. Their legs were tangled and it seemed that there was no part of her body untouched. They moved together, caressing each other and kissing lazily. Colleen felt a tear trickle down her chest and a moment later Tom noticed it, too.

“Everything okay?” he asked in a worried tone, but she smiled and nodded.

“It's a tear of joy, Tom. I'm so happy,” she replied and kissed him again. “Make love to me, Tom.”

His fingers danced over her belly down to her labia, finding her wet and ready. He looked at her and she nodded, spreading her legs wider and arching her back. He leaned over her and slowly pushed into her, groaning as he felt her hotness surround him. He moved slowly and gently, peppering her face and neck with kisses. It didn't take her long to feel the warmth rising inside her, like an explosion filmed in slow motion. She bucked her hips into him and he increased his pace, hitting the sweet spots inside her and adding fuel to her inner fire.

When she came, it felt like it had never before. It was the explosion she was used to, seemingly tearing out of her from inside, but at the same time it was as if something streamed into her, making her feel sated and more satisfied than she ever felt before.

When she was able to think again, Tom was already lying beside her, spent and exhausted, but just as happy. She pulled her blanket over the both of them and they fell asleep.

The next morning Colleen awoke very early. The sun had just risen, but a heavy mist surrounded the house, making everything seem pale and heavy. Tom seemed to have developed a fever and with her help went to his own bed to get some more sleep.

“It must have been all that running around with Geordy and Paul,” he croaked. They had played a lot outside and had been caught in a downpour. She kissed him gently and went to the kitchen to fix some tea for him where she met Jeannie.

“Strange weather,” Jeannie greeted her. “It goes right into my bones.”

“But it's not atypical, is it?” Colleen asked.

“Not at all,” was her answer. “And it promises to be nice later on. 'Mist from the sea /Brings fine weather for me',” Jeannie quoted.

“I somehow feel like going for a walk. If I stay on the paths I should be fine, right?” asked Colleen and Jeannie nodded.

“There's nothing on the grounds that would hurt you, mist or no. Just be careful not to trip over things.”

Colleen brought Tom his tea and went to get herself a shawl, since it was still a bit cold. She let herself out through the small door close to her room that let into the garden.

The grounds which had grown more and more familiar to her seemed strange again. Sounds seemed hushed and the atmosphere had something almost magical. She was reminded of the old stories of the pobel vean, the little people. She never had believed in fairies, but just a week ago she doubted the existence of demons, too. Even though the sun rose steadily, it wasn't strong enough to burn away the mist and Colleen just kept wandering on, fascinated by how things suddenly appeared from the mist.

She figured she must be close to the eastern wall now, haven walked for quite some time. Suddenly a figure loomed up before her and she yelped in surprise. She walked closer and called: “Cedric, is that you?”

She heard a familiar chuckle and froze in place.

“Michael,” she breathed and turned around to flee, but he was by her side with two steps and had a firm grasp on her arm.

“Hello my pet,” he purred and pressed a kiss to her lips.

She tried to tear herself from him, but his arms snaked around her waist and pressed her against him. “Let me go,” she hissed and pushed against him.

“My dear, I just want you to listen to me,” he promised, putting a tone of hurt into his voice.

“Don't I deserve you to listen to me, just as you listened to the priest and your family?” he asked, his eyes wide and innocent.

“I don't hear your lies!” she screamed and he smiled indulgently.

“Fair enough. How about my truths?”

“I won't believe a word coming out of your mouth,” she growled and he laughed.

“You will, my pet. For example I see that you finally bedded the priest without my help,” he said, almost conversationally. She froze and looked at him with suspicion.

“How do you know? And what do you mean, 'without your help'?” she demanded.

“Oh, did you really think that I had no hand in your relationship? It's true, there was a spark there, but I controlled it. I fanned it and made you crave each other even more. It was so easy. Especially when you visited him in the middle of the night.” He laughed and she shuddered. It sounded so genuine. Not at all the laugh you'd expect from a demon celebrating his triumph. He sounded more like a boy who got what he wanted for Christmas.

“As to how I now,” he continued. “You glow. I can feel his energy on you. He's not well, I take it?”

Colleen gaped at him.

“You cannot be spying on us. How do you know this?” she murmured, feeling dread rise in her.

“Because I can see it on you. You sucked his strength right out of him.”

Colleen felt as if the ground had vanished beneath her feet. Had Michael not held her so close she might have stumbled and fallen.

“Dear Colleen. I know you must have asked yourself by now how I found you. But I always knew where you are. After all I sent your father to your mother, so they'd give me you. You're just like me.”

She had a strong feeling of transition, watching it all fly past. The houses of strangers, cars of people she'd never know, places she'd never visit. She was leaving her old life behind her, passing into a new one, together with those two men she hadn't know a week before. They had become such a huge part of her life and it made her happy and nervous at the same time, knowing that they were sharing her journey. She was glad for the silence, only the radio's music sounding in the car. She was not in the mood for small talk and even less for discussing important things, like the future.

They made a pit stop in Bristol, giving her the opportunity to freshen up and Tom to fill up the car. She spent a while looking into the mirror, seeing the same face she had seen all her life. There was no change at all, not clue of her new knowledge nor hints of what might become of her.

She tried to change the strange sadness that had settle over her and raised her chin. She would face things as they'd come and she was strong enough. She didn't need Tom nor Michael, she was claiming her own past and future.

When she came back to the car, something had changed between the men. There was fresh tension in the air, Tom's face set in a deep frown and Michael obviously doing his best to appear calm.

“Everything alright?” she asked, after deciding that she would have to deal with the fallout anyhow, sooner or later.

“Everything's fine, pet,” Michael answered, sounding like he was biting down on something unpleasant.

“Is it? Tom?” she insisted.

“Please don't worry, Colleen,” Tom murmured and Colleen scowled. “What is it with you?”

Both turned to look at her, surprise on their faces.

“I'm gone five minutes and you're at each other's throats again?” she hissed, folding her arms in front of her chest and looking from one man to the other. For a moment she thought she saw amusement in Michael's eyes, but she wasn't sure.

“We're just disagreeing if you should face your family alone or not,” Tom provided and Colleen snorted. “Ever thought that this might be my decision?”

Both men looked taken aback.

“Well, sure, but...” Michael started but she interrupted him.

“This is about my life, my family and my future. I'm very glad that I can count on you both, but I don't appreciate you thinking that I have no say in this.”

“We don't think you have no say...” Tom tried to calm her, but she didn't let him finish.

“It might be unfair to you, because I was very passive so far, letting things happen to me, but I don't want it to be this way any more.”

Tom nodded respectfully and Michael said: “Of course. Sorry.”

Nobody said anything, until Tom announced two hours later: “We're nearly there. I'm going to drive to the inn, the mansion is on the other side of the village.”

His eyes met hers in the mirror. “Everything okay?” he asked.

“Just a bit nervous. I'm looking forward to finally meet them,” she replied, smiling bravely.

The inn was a renovated farm, with maybe ten rooms. It looked cosy and inviting, making Colleen hope they'd have a chance feeling like tourists.

Mr Martins, the inn keeper greeted them with a friendly smile and upon hearing her name immediately pulled out three keys.

“Miss Stewart, of course! Your family has booked these three rooms for you. They're next to each other. Just follow me.”

He lead them up to the rooms, each of them comfortable and not too small. Colleen noticed Michael being not to happy with them not sharing a room, but Colleen was relieved. She needed her concentration and sleep. Plus it was hard for her to keep the noise down with him – not really a good idea in such a small inn. The beds were not exactly wide, so he'd probably not be trying to sneak in. She shook her head at herself – he would, he'd just not be staying.

They split up to unpack their suitcases. About 5 minutes later Mr Martins came up and told her that the Menadues had sent a car to pick her up. Surprised she thanked him and went to tell Michael and then Tom that she was going to see her family, without either of them. Both men nodded meekly, though Michael also drew her in a tight embrace and kissed her.

“Be careful, pet. You don't know them,” he murmured into her hair.

“They're family. I'm taking my cell. Don't worry.”

The car waited in front of the inn, a tall man standing in front of it.

“Colleen?” he asked and she nodded.

“I'm Cedric – we talked on the phone. Welcome to Cornwall!” he greeted her and smiled warmly. Colleen took his offered hand and smiled back. He was about 25 years old, muscular, with shaggy dark hair. He was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt.

He turned to the car and opened the door on the passenger's side. Colleen slid in and soon they were on their way through the village.

“I was surprised to hear there was a car waiting,” Colleen said after a while of silent driving.

“Mr Martins called us to tell us you're here. Margaret asked him to. We thought it would be easier that way.” Colleen nodded and looked out of the window. The village was already behind them and they seemed to drive toward a small forest.

“It's behind the trees – you'll see it soon,” Cedric answered her unspoken question.

The mansion was surrounded by a high wall and on the grounds were old trees, like a second line of defence. A broad cobbled street lead up to the building, which looked like somebody had started to build it in the mediaeval age and still not stopped. Turrets and towers, several wings and lots of smaller buildings from different eras together formed a structure that still managed to look like a unit – maybe because the same materials had been used for each part. The car pulled up in the drive way and Cedric opened the door for her. He went up to the door and held it open for her.

“Welcome to your ancestral home,” he intoned as she stepped in.

The mansion was enormous – it seemed even bigger on the inside than it had from outside. The hall reminded her of an old castle, with heavy tapestries covering the stone surfaces. A tall women came down the stairs at the other end of the hall. Her hair was white and styled in a complicated up-do, her elegant suite jet black.

“Colleen, it is such a pleasure to finally meet you,” she said, holding out both her hands to the young woman. When she came closer, Colleen was shocked by the resemblance she had to her mother.

“Margaret?” she asked. The older woman nodded and squeezed her hands.

“You look just like my mom,” Colleen whispered, feeling tears rising in her throat.

“I'm her sister, my dear,” Margaret explained and pulled her into a hug. Being hugged helped her fight her tears and took away her anxiety about the unknown.

Margaret and Cedric led her to a sitting room next to the hall and the women sat down. Cedric excused himself to fix some tea.

“The rest of the house is in a bit of disarray, I think we should postpone the grand tour,” Margaret explained and Colleen nodded.

“I take it Father Thomas already told you a bit about the family?” the older woman asked.

“He already showed me a demon,” Colleen blurted out and Margaret raised her eyebrows.

“I think he was a bit overwhelmed and told me too much. I was shocked and doubted him and so he took me to see one.”

Margaret's face showed that this wasn't exactly what she'd had in mind, but then her mien became softer. “He's still young and eager. I think he hoped you'd be a new knight for the cause.” She cleared her throat and took Colleen's hand.

“What he told you is true: for over a thousand years our family has fought against dark forces. Not always with swords, but every generation has faced at least one greater battle. A lot of them were hidden in larger conflicts, some even taken as natural catastrophes by outsiders. Our family members are not forced to join the fight, but most choose to help in a way that fits their talents. We had a tennis player in the 1930s who scouted for demons. We more or less stick to the British Isles, as other families like us fight in other parts of the world.”

Cedric came back and served their tea.

“I'm sure you have many questions, my dear?”

“One that's been burning inside me since I got your letter: why did my mother leave?” Colleen asked.

“She had a natural gift for seeing demons without any help. It took a great toll on her, since she had chosen to travel a lot so she could find them all.” Margaret's face had taken a tender look, thinking of her sister. “On one of her outings she met your father and fell in love. Suddenly all the danger and the life we live seemed hard and bleak. She came back and tried to serve as she had before, but she became depressive, saying that we fought for nothing.” Margaret sighed. “One day she packed her packs and left for London. We let her go, of course, her happiness was more important to us than anything else. But for some reason bitterness against the family had made her server all ties after that.”

“She did talk to Father Gregory, though,” Colleen supplied and her aunt nodded.

“She still thought that demons had to be vanquished, I think she just thought somehow how we do it wasn't right.”

“So, how does it look, the fight? Do you... chop their heads off?” Colleen asked, feeling silly. Cedric grinned and answered: “Not exactly. Demons are rare. We mostly try to find out what they're planning and then we counter act. We have build lots of connections to important people and institutions and sometimes we get to play James Bond.” Margaret rolled her eyes at the last bit, but smiled. “He's basically right. The last real fight was years ago – Bosnia. Most of the time it's enough to open the eyes of somebody who's crucial to the demon's plans.”

“I think it's quite a lot to take in. Maybe we can at least show you around the property,” Cedric cut in. Colleen nodded and Margaret added: “I have some things I wanted to fetch. Why don't the two of you go outside and I join you later? I also have some books I want to show you.”

Cedric and Colleen walked back through the hall and left the building. She turned around to stare at the massive walls.

“It's old, right?” she asked and Cedric nodded.

“There are some parts that go back to the 7th century, back when it was a chapel. Since then every generation seems to have build something. Some things had to be torn down. Come on, let's go to the garden first.”

He lead her around the western part of the house. He opened a door in the wall and they entered a big garden, with row after row of vegetables and herbs. It was protected from the west winds by the wall and seemed to have sun most of the day. “Looks like you could feed a small army,” Colleen called out in surprise. “It's beautiful!”

“Well, when everybody is here we are about 30 people and I lost count how many children. But most of the time we're just about half of that. It sure comes in handy to have some way of providing for ourselves. Plus in every generation there’s at least one green thumb,” he explained. Then he yelled: “Jeannie?”

A plum, rosy and very cute women appeared between two rows of large leaves.

“What is it Ced?” she cried back and then saw Colleen. “No, is that Enid's kid?”

She came around and hugged Colleen fierce. “I nearly thought I'd never get to see you!” she exclaimed. “Look at you!” Colleen blushed.

“Enid was my favourite aunt. I was so excited to hear she had a little baby girl, but she never wanted to come back,” Jeannie said with sadness in her voice. “But now you're here. Let me show you around my garden.”

The part Colleen had seen so far was only the beginning. There was a special area for medical herbs and a large orchard.

“It's so beautiful,” Colleen said with awe in her voice.

“We also still have a few horses,” Cedric added proudly.

“I wish I could have seen this as a child,” she admitted.

“We all do, love,” Jeannie said.

They were already on their way back when Margaret caught up with them.

“I see you met Jeannie,” she said as she led them back to the house. Again they went to the sitting room and Margaret handed her some books.

“It's a lot about the history of the family. We used to be like a small village here, or like those medieval cloisters, making our own books, brewing our own beer, but it's long since become easier to go out in the world. I wager this has already been a lot for you, so maybe you should go back to your boyfriend and enjoy the Cornish coast for a few hours. We could met again tomorrow? You could also bring Father Thomas – I hope you understand that we're a bit nervous about strangers, so if you don't mind, we'd prefer to meet your boyfriend later.”

It only occurred to her when she was driven back by Cedric, that Margaret had politely thrown her out and compared to how huge the property was, she had only seen a small percentage.

Then again she could imagine that it not easy for the family to let in a complete stranger and trust her with their secrets.

“What ever has gotten into you? First you nearly force Tom to come with us to Cornwall, thanks for springing that on me. Then you nearly start a fight accusing him of wanting to steal me or something?” she fumed.

“Cornwall is the only logical next step. And you know exactly that he wants you. You told me about your kiss,” he said in a very level tone.

“There was a kiss, but I'm sure it didn't mean anything,” Colleen tried to reason, knowing that it wasn't true and remembering Tom's word about 'willing to go quite far'. Michael shook his head.

“You know that is not true. I know we only know each other for a few days, but I meant what I said: I will fight for you, unless you send me away.”

He looked at her, face earnest. “Do you send me away?”

She shook her head.

“I'm sorry for doubting you. I want to work this out with you,” she answered. He nodded and closed the distance between them. With one hand he cupped her face, the other snaked around her hips and he drew her in for a kiss. It started careful and soft, his lips gently brushing hers and his tongue only ghosting over hers. He broke away from her and his gaze travelled over her face, drinking every detail in. Then he kissed her again, more insistent, his tongue claiming her mouth, his fingers digging into her skin. She clutched at him and he growled softly, nipping at her lip with his teeth before invading her mouth again. When they finally broke their kiss, she felt dizzy and leant on him for support. He kept his arms wrapped around her and whispered into her ear: “I'm keeping you. You're mine.”

She was too overwhelmed to say anything, his words making no sense at first. Then she heart the heavy church door close with a thud and she knew what he had meant.

He took her back to her flat and she didn't ask him to come inside. She wanted to think about things without a man clouding her mind. He kissed her good-night and made her promise to call him the next morning.

Alone in her home she first took out her aunt's letter. She dialled the number that was listed with the contact information. A cold, male voice answered on the other end, “Menadue residence, Cedric speaking.”

Colleen nervously stated her name and that she had been invited by Margaret. Immediately Cedric became more friendly.

“So you're cousin Colleen, what a pleasure,” he exclaimed and Colleen wondered how much the family knew about her, when she knew next to nothing about them.

“Margaret is away right now, but I'll tell her that you called. Are you planning to come to Cornwall?”

“In fact I do. Father Thomas of Saint Afan's church would like to accompany me and also my boyfriend,” she hesitated a moment on the last word, but what should she call Michael?

“Ah, that's great,” Cedric replied. “I fear you'll have to stay at the village, though. There are parts of the house in renovation. We know the inn keeper quite well and he'll keep rooms ready for you, at our expense of course. We're all looking forward to see you.”

“That's very nice. Thank you. We're planning to leave in two days, but the details aren't quite settled yet.”

“No problem. Just call ahead so somebody is here to greet you.”

They exchanged a few more pleasantries and Colleen confirmed that she had all the contact informations in Margaret’s letter and they hung up.

There was a strange feeling in her stomach. Cedric had sounded nice and happy to her from her, but something had felt off to her.

She spent some time on the internet, looking at weather reports and researching the village. It would still be quite warm in Cornwall, but also windy. After trying to find any information about the village they were to stay in but coming up empty, she shut her laptop again. What was she doing? Did she really consider just having a road trip with two men who were at each other's throats most of the time and almost always because of her?

She was in too deep. She couldn't just stop now, she had to know what her family was about.

The next morning she started packing a bag. She had no idea how long they'd stay in Cornwall, but she decided not to pack for more than a few days. If anything it would give her a reason to leave. She called Mary to tell her about her vacation. Unlike her, her friend had not forgotten their plan for a double date. When she heard about the trip to Cornwall she insisted that they should have it right that evening. Her reasoning was that she didn't want Colleen to leave with a man she didn't know at all. “I'd never forgive myself if he'd kill you and dumb you into the ocean!”

After they hung up she called Michael. To her surprise he was excited and agreed at once. She had been sure he'd try to talk himself out of it, but it seemed he really wanted to get to know her friends. He would pick her up at 7pm and they'd go to the restaurant together. It was strange, she didn't have a normal relationship for quite some time. The last one had been mostly only making out in a Professor's office and the one before that had been with a married man. She had found out too late and by that point had been too much into him. Mary had finally managed to talk some sense into her and the break-up had been so sober that only then she realized how little she had meant to him.

She wondered how everything would have played out if she had met Michael without all the supernatural crap.

In the afternoon Tom called and asked her if she would take Michael and see him the next day to talk about the trip. He was very composed and she was glad about it. If he didn't give her any sign that he wanted more, she could try to forget the kiss and imagine that he only wanted to protect her as a friend. She told him about her talk with Cedric. It turned out he didn't have family there any more so staying at the Inn was the best option for him.

The evening was very successful. Michael and Mary's husband got along very well. Mary herself was charmed by Michael and he was open enough to bury her suspicions. They talked and laughed until the restaurant closed. When they said their good-byes Mary wished them a great vacation and had Michael promise to visit them afterwards.

They went to Colleen's flat hand in hand and when they arrived at her doorstep he whispered: “Don't make me leave tonight.” Not able to resit, she let him follow her in. She had just closed the door when he gathered her in his arms and kissed her.

“I could hardly think of anything else all evening, pet,” he said between kisses and started to unbutton her blouse. She put her hands on his. “Not so fast, we could have a drink first,” she offered, but he was unrelenting. He pushed her against the door and kissed her neck. The last of the buttons were opened and his hands dug into her skin, demanding, possessive. Her defences didn't go down as much as they just vanished. From one moment to the next, she didn't want to resist any more, couldn't imagine anything but letting him have her, immediately. She moaned and arched into him as he shoved up her skirt and stripped down her knickers. His thumb played over her clit and his index finger slipped into her.

“Such a good pet, ready and wet,” he murmured and let go of her for a moment to open his jeans. She moved, but immediately his hands were back, pinning her to the door by her throat. He hoisted one of her legs up and slipped into her. She moaned at the intrusion, clawing a this back and he chuckled, pumping into her without hesitation. His lips were on hers again, hot and aggressive, making her feel light headed. His thrusts were hard and fast as he pushed into her, slamming her against the door. “Come for me,” he demanded and rubbed over her clit. She felt herself clench around him and with another of his thrusts she came. He spilled into her and slowly let her down again. Her head was swimming and she felt limb, unable to move. He picked her up and brought her to bed, removing the rest of her clothes and tugging her in. She heard

him move about and fell asleep, only waking up shortly when he came to bed, too.

The next day she felt drained and exhausted. Michael made her tea and brought her breakfast, telling her to take it slow. He was perfect, taking care of her and fulfilling every wish, even before she could think of it. She spent some time reading and around noon felt well enough to get up. He was there all the time, looking out for her in case she got dizzy. He even took her temperature multiple times. He fixed a fruity salad for lunch and danced through the kitchen, where she sat at the table, watching him.

“Your mood is amazing,” she said, smiling. He came over and kissed her.

“I'm just glad you're feeling better. I was afraid you'd be coming down with something, but I guess it was just a slight hangover.” She shrugged. “Possibly.”

After lunch they sat on the couch, reading. She felt content and wondered how much her life had changed with him. Suddenly she was in a normal, happy relationship. Meeting friends, cooking together, if only the trip to Cornwall could have been a normal vacation.

Around four they left to see Tom. He had asked them to come to his flat where there was less chance of interruption. They took Michael's car and when Tom opened the door, he shot a worried look at Colleen.

“Hello, come in,” he greeted them and ushered them to the living room, where already a pot of tea and three mugs were waiting.

“Are you quite well, Colleen?” he asked and she smiled, nodding. “Just something I ate or maybe a hangover I think,” she said, sitting down. Michael sat next to her, leaving Tom with the armchair. He glanced at Michael, who looked very relaxed.

“I'm taking good care of her, Father,” Michael said and took Colleen's hand. “She's positively pampered, right, pet?” She nodded and started to pour the tea, not wanting to look at either man. She handed them their mugs and took a sip from hers.

Tom cleared his throat and changed the subject. “So, I managed to organize my absence. We can take my car – yours is not really a car made for travelling.” He looked at Michael, who nodded and smiled. “We could leave around 9am, so we arrive around noon,” Tom continued.

“My family has already organized rooms at the local Inn,” Colleen said, looking at Michael. “I packed for one week – but I don't expect to stay that long,” she added, looking from one man to the other. Michael shrugged. “I guess we'll see, right? Maybe you'll just have tea with your family and we leave again, eh?”

Tom nodded slowly. “I am honestly not sure what to expect. I guess it will be good to get to know more about your heritage. And I'm looking forward to spent some time in Cornwall.” His eyes became distant as he was obviously thinking of something from the past.

“Maybe I can show you some sights,” he offered looking at Colleen and she smiled shyly. She glanced at Michael, but he seemed calm and unconcerned.

“There is one other thing. I'm not trying to accuse you of anything. I just can't find the cross any more,” Tom said. “I know you gave it to Michael,” he looked at Colleen. “And I believe that you placed it on my desk, Michael, but it seems to be gone.”

Colleen furrowed her brows and tried to remember.

“I think I also remember seeing it on the desk. Maybe it fell to the floor,” she offered. Michael shook his head. “I placed it on the chair I had been sitting on when I got up. Maybe one of you put it on the desk?” Tom nodded. “It might have slipped down when I put the chairs away. I'll take a look again later.”

They talked about the route they wanted to take, but after a while it was clear that everything had been said. When they said good-bye, Tom hugged Colleen and she had the feeling he wanted to say something, but with a glance at Michael he just told them to take care and reminded them to be at his place at 9am.

Michael took Colleen home but this time didn't want to stay. He told her there was still some preparations he had to take care off and so she was alone again. She called Mary who had agreed to care for her plants again and promised to call her from Cornwall. They chatted a bit about the last evening and Colleen felt warm and fuzzy about how Mary gushed about Michael. Finally a man her friend approved of.

After they hung up, she checked her suitcase and bag again, wondering if she forgot anything important. She was beginning to get nervous about the prospect of seeing the Menadues tomorrow. All she had left of a family and she didn't even know them. She read her aunt's letter again, wondering at how little detail it really contained. So far everything substantial she had heard from Tom and if he hadn't shown her proof, it wouldn't have sounded substantial at all. Holding the handwritten letter in her hand, she suddenly remembered the old wooden box she had under her bed. It contained her mothers correspondence and she liked to open it to see her mother's handwriting. She rarely read the letters, feeling it was still an invasion of privacy, but maybe there was something there, something that could shed some light on her mother's reasons to leave the family.

After a while of going through letters from her father's mother and old school friends, she found a letter from Father Gregory, written just a year after her birth.

“Dear Enid,” it read. “I am glad to hear that your daughter is well. Of course I regret your decision not to have her baptised here, but I respect that it's your and your husband's decision. Please never hesitate to come to me if you need help or counsel. Your aunt has set up a fund in her name that she can claim after being introduced to the family and making her own decision. I understand that you want to keep her from this harsh world of fighting and danger, but you know that somebody has to make the sacrifice. If she inherits your senses, please reconsider. I know it takes a lot from you and I am thankful for every demon you report, but it would be much easier if you would agree to work closer together with your family again.”

There were some news about members of the family and the letter closed with his blessing. She dug deeper and found another letter by the priest. This was from ten years ago.

“Dear Enid, the last demon your reported has been apprehended. The streets of London are safer, thanks to you. Even if there are only two or three demons each month in Greater London, they still pose a great danger. Your aunt wants you to know that you still can come back or send Colleen to her, even if she doesn't exhibit any of your senses. She should at least know who she is. I myself feel my health dwindling. I hope you will stay in contact with my successor.”

Colleen stared at the letter. Her mother had really kept contact with the Saint Afan's and reported demons. She had never heard her mother speak about religion or supernatural things and yet she had been involved all the time. Why hadn't she told her anything? Not even when she was an adult?

A part of her resented that she had never gotten to hear the truth from her parents, but she also felt tenderness at their wish to protect her. Obviously her mother had thought that she had to be kept away from the Menadues completely, taking away her possibility to decide for herself. But even if this had been her mother's last wish, she just had to know. She put the box away again and just sat on her bed. She didn't feel ready to face the new reality, but she knew she probably never would. Her parents had always said that she was too adventurous for her own good and she had always thought that they were glad she became an archaeologist, instead of a private investigator or something even wilder. Was this a trait from her Cornish ancestors? Was she meant to be some sort of knight? She snorted at herself. Getting ahead of herself would only make her more nervous.

She fixed herself a herbal tea and went to bed early, falling asleep surprisingly quickly.