Bonnie - Iris Johansen [42]
“If you were in the right, why would you need forgiveness?”
Why did the priest keep asking him questions? Kill him.
No, that was the demon whispering. He couldn’t listen.
He jumped to his feet. “I have to go. Good-bye, Father.”
“Don’t go. Come back to my office. You need me, Ted.”
Dear God, he did need him. But he was past the help the priest could give him except for this last request. “I have to go,” he said jerkily as he left the confessional. “Don’t fail me again.”
“Ted!”
Danner ignored Father Barnabas’s shout as he ran out of the church and down the stone steps.
He shouldn’t have come. He was hurting, and Father Barnabas had not been able to heal him. No, that was not true. The priest could do anything, his powers were without limit. He had not wanted to heal him. He had only wanted to tear aside the scabs of Danner’s wounds and watch him bleed.
As his hand had bled when John’s knife entered it.
He looked down at his bandaged hand, and the tears stung his eyes once more. Pain. Broken bones. Not John’s fault. John would never hurt him.
He must have demons whispering in his ear, too.
Catherine Ling. The Delilah.
He had recognized that quality in her when he’d first seen her earlier that night at the casino, when she and John had taken Jacobs captive. Beautiful, exotic, a sorceress weaving her spell. As John and the woman had hunted down Jacobs, so had Danner followed and stalked them, waiting for his chance. He had watched, listened, finding out what he could about her. He had thought that perhaps she could be spared, that she was only a temptress that John was using for pleasure. Then later, when she’d been stalking him at the bayou, he’d known that she had to be destroyed.
He cradled his torn, broken hand. He’d have to change bandages soon. He had taught John how to throw that knife with deadly accuracy at the cabin in Wisconsin, when John was only a boy. They had laughed and made bets, and for a little while, Ted had felt whole again.
Not John’s fault. It was the demon.
It was Delilah.
* * *
HE WAS GONE.
Father Barnabas stood on the top step and gazed out in frustration at the empty street.
He should have been quicker. He should have sensed how close Ted Danner was to breaking and running. He had been concentrating on how to tear through the wall around Danner and reaching him and had not realized how tightly the man was balanced.
And he knew how dangerous Danner could be when he was upset like this. Before he had been able to control him and he had thought that when Danner had come to him pleading for help with the child, he could lure him back to him. What had set him off this time?
Well, he wasn’t about to find out anytime soon unless he was able to give him what he wanted. He had become the enemy to Danner. He had felt the vibrations, the guilt, the searing rage that was fueling the man. He had been bracing himself for possible attack.
Danner was changing, becoming dangerous. Could he control him? Control was of the utmost importance with Danner.
He could do it. He had done it before through the years. All it took was perseverance and subtle manipulation. Danner regarded him as the only light to overcome the darkness that was trying to take over his soul.
As long as he kept thinking that was true, the control would be rock solid.
* * *
“THIS IS A FAR CRY from a VA hospital,” Eve said as Gallo pulled into the parking lot of the San Antonio Medical Center. It was a small brick-and-glass building that appeared sleek, modern, and affluent. The lot was occupied by a BMW, a gray Lexus, and a small red sports car. The neighborhood in which the medical center was located had the same air of prosperity as those luxury vehicles. “It seems Dr. Temple has moved up in the world.”
“Or down,” Gallo said grimly. “It depends on who you ask. I’ve met a couple of doctors who take care of servicemen and there are none better.”
“Everyone has a right to improve their lot in life,” she said as she got out of the car. “It’s the capitalist system.”
“You defend it, but how much do