NOVEL SIMPLE v2 CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: (18+) In which long-time colleagues discuss the boundaries of forward and reverse motion.
When meetings drag on, they gradually shed participants. Susan, the instigator, had departed hours before. Jay Sigma left not long after, though not before insisting that Maria join him for a drink, and that Una should let him know when she wanted to return to Brooklyn. That left only John and Una, sipping tea and quietly discussing the implications of their situation.
In the Haven’s conference room, the late afternoon sun cast deep shadows through the windows, but the room was pleasantly cool. The couple sat across from each other, their expressions neutral but their thoughts racing.
“Do you think Susan will take this job?” John asked. The priest looked tired, his broad shoulders slumped slightly, his hair slightly mussed. Una couldn’t help but admire the definition of John’s features, and the way the light fell across his jaw.
“Well, she wants access to their libraries and equipment, but I’m worried about what they’ll want from her. She’s smart as hell, but sometimes her hunger for knowledge outweighs her caution.” Una frowned. “Do you know much about the Office of Supernatural Affairs?”
John snorted. “Beyond what everyone’s heard? Just that Monsignor Albert keeps trying to pull strings with them, but often gets rebuffed. He called me in for a meeting yesterday and wouldn’t stop muttering about their director, Lombardi... apparently she’s a force to be reckoned with.”
Una swirled her tea with a motion of her mug, frowning. “What’s going on with Albert? He always used to insist we steer clear of any involvement with the supernatural, whether as part of outreach to local communities or anxious parishioners asking for exorcisms. But now...?”
John’s face grew serious. “We haven’t caught up one on one, Micki... I should probably explain the whole situation.”
He’s still using my old name, she noticed, equally distracted by the way John’s arms flexed when he crossed them and leaned on the table. Well, I told him he could use it as a nickname. She blinked. “What situation?”
“He’s taken over the Curia for Supernatural Warfare,” John said. “As a matter of fact, he was one of its founders, way back when. Typical Church information-brokering—nobody mentions these kinds of things for years, then some scandal breaks the seal.”
Una stared at John in disbelief. “Albert worked with Spencer?” The mismatch was jarring, like discovering that the Pope was secretly a member of the Cosa Nostra. She’d always found her former superior to be a tiresome martinet, but now she felt a flash of anger. “Do you think he knew about Spencer—about what Spencer—” Una sputtered, unable to finish the sentence.
John placed a steady hand on her arm, and she inhaled slowly, trying to regain composure. “Did he know Spencer targeted you? Intended Father Michael as a target for Yael?” John’s voice was firm, comforting. Una nodded, her hair tumbling over her face.
“I’ve been asking myself that question, and I’m not sure,” he continued, shaking his head. “I think he must have had suspicions. It explains some of the way he acted. For a more solid answer, you’d have to ask him yourself. All I could find out is that Spencer pushed him out years ago, precisely because Albert opposed the type of experiments that we... disrupted.”
Una clenched her hands. “I couldn’t think about this too much while we had to focus on getting out of that place. But I need to know how it started. Albert has to give me answers. How could he let this happen in our church, to priests under his purview? How could the Church let it happen?!”
“I know you need to confront him,” John said. “But you should know that he considers you a liability right now. Albert is still shielding you. There are Jesuit inquisitors like Garnier sniffing around, but he’s fending them off and constructing arguments for the Church’s support of...” The big priest gestured out towards the hallway. “What we’re doing here. Reparations for Spencer’s victims. But it’s all on thin ice, because y’all are supernatural.”
Una hissed a sigh through her teeth, her nostrils flaring. “Fuck that guy,” she said. “And fuck the Church too.”
John’s face froze in a mask of disapproval. “Careful what you say. Don’t set courses you can’t change. A couple months ago, you were hoping you could return to the cloth one day. I don’t want you to throw all that away.”
Una laughed mirthlessly, setting her mug down with a bang. “John, have you noticed that I’m a demon?” She brought her hands to the stretchy blue fabric of her dress’s bodice and gripped her ample breasts in demonstration. “These are not standard issue for a Catholic priest! Perhaps you remember tapping this ass on more than one occasion? The one with a tail on top?”
John’s rich brown eyes smoldered, and Una suddenly wished she’d chosen her words more carefully. She knew what he was thinking; John had always maintained that she was the same good person on the inside, no matter how her body transformed. He assumes I’m acting out. He doesn’t realize I’ve changed in other ways...
“I remember every occasion, Micki. I made those choices, to break my vows, and I’ve struggled to maintain my calling and service.” His voice was quiet, but his gaze bore into her own with the intensity of faith in its purest, most terrifying form. “I still believe that your essence hasn’t fundamentally altered. But I won’t push the issue. Are you okay?”
He’s trying to help, and I just blasphemed the faith he still holds to. She wanted to sink through the floor and curl into a ball until her shame passed, but she settled for smiling wanly at her long-time clerical partner.
“I’m not. But I’m sorry, that wasn’t fair. John, I don’t know how to explain this. You know I merged with Yael... it’s like she’s dissolved in me, spreading all throughout. Her feelings, her attitudes. When I’m angry, you wouldn’t believe the things I want to say, the ways I’d curse and threaten the Church, God and humanity...”
To her surprise, Una found she was fighting back tears. John moved towards her, his chair scraping on the floor, and before she knew it, she’d rushed into his embrace, her arms flung around his neck. Her hair tangled in his beard as she pressed her cheek to his, their bodies colliding with a rush of shared breath. The heat of him was overwhelming, but it didn’t trigger a wave of lust, only a soothing calm.
“Micki... you’re still struggling with her, after all this time?” John’s deep rumble sounded surprised. “I hope you know it’s not that strange... practically every priest has felt angry enough at the Church, or human nature, to curse and scream at one point or another. I have. Father Michael might have been an exception, but we both know he was a little repressed.”
Una couldn’t help but smile. Her face pressed into his shoulder. John smelled wonderful, like fresh laundry and the faintest whiff of aftershave. “It’s a lot more than that, Johnny. She’s not trying to take me over anymore because we’re already joined. I’m like a glass of fresh water floating on top of a lightless ocean, an ocean filled with nine thousand years of succubus.”
Just thinking about Yael’s history was enough to let her feelings off the leash, her succubus side surging to the fore. She pressed her body against his, her hips shifting, her tail snaking out from under her dress to wrap itself around his thigh.
The priest gripped her by the shoulders and gently stepped back. “I thought you were more at peace with your new self. Do you want to try to... go back, somehow? To the way you were? I could ask Albert...”
Micki’s mouth opened in astonishment. “No! You’re talking about exorcism again.” John shook his head in protest, but she pulled away from him. “Look, I’m still figuring myself out, but I know I’m not Michael Belmont anymore and I never will be again. If that bastard had one thing about me right, it was that...”
She trailed off, biting her lip and remembering the notes on the file about her, about Belmont. “I had... gender identity issues.”
John was silent, watching her from the end of the table. He’s trying to understand, I know that. But maybe he’s not the right person to talk with about gender. “It’s easy to understand why Albert considers me a liability, not just because of my hooves and skin. I’m a demonic, queer, transgender ex-priest. I don’t need him to accept that. You, on the other hand...”
The gaze she turned on him was pleading; her eyes glittered with unshed tears, and she stepped towards him with a supple sway of her hips. All too aware that her succubus nature mingled with her human emotions, Una nonetheless found that she couldn’t resist the temptation.
“I need you, John Hayes.” Her voice emerged as a husky whisper, and John’s eyes widened, his pupils dilating. “I need your understanding and faith. Your strength and kindness. As always, you’re an anchor in the storm.” And I need your hands on me, she thought. I need that cock inside of me, filling me up. Father John, I need to taste your cum and feel your sweat drip on my skin...
John inhaled sharply as Una traced a dark fingernail down his chest, following the curve of his pectoral muscles. He took a step back, but she followed. “Micki, wait. We shouldn’t... at least, not here.” John’s tone was strained. “I can’t deny that I want you. But you understand the situation I’m in.”
“Then let’s get out of here, lover,” she replied, letting her voice drop lower. Her hand slipped beneath his jacket to stroke the hard ridges of his abdomen, feeling his stomach tense at her touch. She pressed her curves to his body again; his cock stirred at her waist, and she felt a surge of heat between her legs. “Don’t you want to feel my lips wrapped around you? Don’t you want to feel me bouncing on your lap?”
Una reached for John’s belt buckle, but he caught her hand in his. “Don’t do this, please. You know I’ll never say no.” His grip tightened, and his voice held an edge of desperation. She knew he wanted her as badly as she needed him, and the knowledge made her tremble with anticipation. “Micki, you know that I’m always yours. I’ll be by your side, no matter what. But you need more than just physical companionship.”
Una’s tail flicked, betraying her annoyance, and John chuckled. “You know what I mean. You’re a demon, yes—but also a person. And a person needs love and friendship, Micki.”
Una felt herself deflate slightly, a tang of frustration in her mouth. She’d never push him, but it was tempting. She could sense the things she could do to sway him, and the power that would come from seducing John Hayes again. But she wouldn’t breach that line without his consent.
“John,” she said with a lilt. “I know you’re right. But you also promised me a date, remember?” Una tried to look at him with wide eyes and an innocent grin, and she saw his relief.
“I did,” he said, releasing his grip on her hand. His thumb stroked the inside of her palm, and a shiver of excitement passed through her core, a promise of what was to come later. “Sometime soon. Maybe we can find a place where you won’t stand out so much.”
She smirked ruefully. “I understand. You ought to dress down as well, Father.” She stepped closer to him again, flicking his collar with one long nail and bringing her nose to within inches of his chin. She felt his heart rate increase, and she could see his pulse beating in his throat. “For now, just a kiss?”
John’s lips met hers with a soft touch that rapidly grew firmer. His beard tickled her face, and she smiled, her mouth opening to his. Their tongues met in a dance that was familiar, but still exciting; she tasted a hint of mint and tea. Una felt herself growing warm, but she forced herself to step back, breaking away from his embrace. “Mmmm. Later.”
He grinned back, then looked past her shoulder to the room’s entrance. Una turned; Niamh, the young girl with the gift of visions, stood in the doorway. The redhead’s freckled face was somber, her expression grave.
Yevgeny leaned into the doorway behind her. “Pardon for the intrusion, Father. Miss Una.” The elderly man bowed apologetically. “We have a problem.” Oh dear, thought Una. How long had they been listening?
John cleared his throat and nodded to Yev, his demeanor shifting to that of the confident pastor. “What is it, Yevgeny?”
Yevgeny nudged Niamh gently. “Go on, little one. Tell the priest and the skvela dama just what you told me.”
The young seer’s voice was quiet, but steady. “It’s Reem and Aidan, Lady Una. They went out to, you know... explore. But they’re about to have trouble... I’m sorry, ma’am. Not really sure what kind.” She rubbed the metal plate on her forehead, her eyes unfocused and distant. “Just that it’ll be bad. Could be bad, I mean.” She corrected herself with the tone of someone used to being chided for imprecision, and Una felt a pang of pity.
John sighed. “They don’t have phones. We had better go look for them.”
