CHRISTMAS EVE, 2019, 11:00 PM

ATOP THE BALTIMORE BASILICA

Father Jesse steps out of the roof access into late December air that's still not crisp enough. Sometimes that's being dead; more often, though, and almost every night this winter...Maryland's getting too damn warm. Used to be swamp summers and blizzard winters. The summers are getting worse; the winters...

Should be all the same to him, though, right? He doesn't have a flock anymore.

He's carrying a cooler.

One of the men he's here to meet is already sitting in a lawn chair, looking out over the intersection. The Basilica sits in the very heart of downtown, where Orleans Street breaks into Mulberry and Franklin; as they stand on the roof looking looking east down Orleans, they've got St. Ignatious Church to their left -- to the north -- along with Baltimore's version of the Washington Monument; another ivory tower, but more modest and less of an obelisk. Old and powerful rituals were used to design Washington, D.C. That's why all the roads have 45 degree angles.

To the south, on their right: Mercy Medical Center and the city courthouse. Behind them -- south by west -- is Lexington Market, which has become...interesting, lately, for a number of reasons neither of them expected. Past that is the "grave" of Edgar Allen Poe. Ha! Fitting proximity though, maybe.

The other man's chair is facing north up Calvert and Light Street, and he's sipping a glass of white wine. "Good evening, Father Jesse," says the willworker known as Jesuit.

Father Jesse grins and his face flushes -- not from embarrassment or arousal or any human emotion; just from getting the blood pumping again. There are two other lawn chairs sitting folded up next to the willworker; he takes one and flicks his wrist to shake it out. Slumping down next to him, the vampire pulls a custom-made Bloody Mary from his cooler, and pokes a straw in through the plastic wrap he rubberbanded over the glass.

"We could meet at St. Ignatius instead, if you want," says Father Jesse. "Breaking into the Basilica every year seems...I don't know."

Jesuit: "Overwrought?"

Father Jesse: "Predictable."

Jesuit: "It creates sympathy. I care less about the Basilica than I do St. Ignatius; I certainly care less about the people inside the Basilica than I do the people inside St. Ignatius. And so I am content to watch that church from this one." He sips his wine. "How have you been?"

Father Jesse sighs. "Busy. We had another itinerant slip in from Flagstaff or Phoenix or wherever that fucker is setting up these days."

Jesuit: "Up in Colorado, last I heard. They're running him like a dog."

Father Jesse: "Yeah, well. The Prince got involved personally this time."

Jesuit: "Oh? How is the little tyke?"

Father Jesse: "He hasn't lost a step. Pastor Bleaker is Final Dead."

Jesuit sips. "Apologies; that was too flippant. Obviously the prosperity heretic is dead; I was actually asking about the Prince. How is Lister doing? He still has to put up a front around me, but...I'm concerned."

The vampire priest sighs and leans back. "He's still depressed. He's still basically a child who can't stop being...well, you know. The video games are helping. The contact with the rowdy boys and the Hedge kids is helping. He needs to be around that level of youth, I think." He takes another sip through his straw. "We just get so old."

Jesuit: "Indeed."

Father Jesse: "I was including you in that."

Jesuit: "I wasn't objecting."

Father Jesse: "...Other than that, more or less the usual. Some activity on the Hopkins campus, some activity around it, but nothing big since we took care of that shirtless idiot loser with the Dodger cap. Me and the kid the from the Freehold, that is."

Jesuit: "Stewart."

Father Jesse: "Yeah, I thought you might know him."

Jesuit: "He has a room reserved in our library. Interesting boy. Interesting...what do they call them. 'Motley.' Interesting motley."

Father Jesse: "Just interesting?"

Jesuit: "It's the word you use when you either don't know or don't want to say something more descriptive and more accurate." He sips again. "Do you think the Doctor of Sciences is involved? Up at Hopkins."

Father Jesse: "Given that I'm not a fucking idiot, yes. But he's kept his hands clean ever since that thing with Best. Which isn't like him. Speaking of, where is--"

The roof access door bangs open and Benjamin Best steps out onto the rooftop with a twelve pack of Natty Bo. "Hey."

Father Jesse: "Hey!"

Jesuit: "Benjamin."

He's wearing khakis and an adorably ugly Christmas sweater, his normal winter coat already discarded in the car. "Took me awhile to get away from Tara's family but I said I'd be here, so." He sets up his chair and sits down next to Father Jesse as the vampire finishes his Bloody Mary.

Benjamin rips open the twelve pack. "Ey, make some space in there." A Natty Bo goes into Father Jesse's cooler where that Bloody Mary used to be. Ben looks up at the vampire. "So are you, ah, doing that whole..." He sorts of gestures to his face. "Yeah, you gotta be. Have a damn beer."

Father Jesse: "The Blush of Life is--"

Ben: "Have a damn beer! You're already gonna be pissing ash from the vegetable juice or whatever."

Father Jesse sighs and cracks a cold one.

The sin-eater leans over. "You're welcome to one too, Jesuit, but I see you've got your wine."

Jesuit: "I do."

Ben: "What'd I miss?"

Father Jesse: "We were actually just talking about the incident up at Johns Hopkins over the summer."

Ben: "Yeah? You're still not doing anything about that Doctor guy, are you?"

Father Jesse grimaces.

Jesuit: "The belief is that containment is preferable to another incident."

Ben, after a chug of beer: "Well I'd say one day he'll go too far but in my professional opinion, that guy already went too far. And you agree with me, Jess, because otherwise you wouldn't have called me in."

Father Jesse, after a liberal sip of Natty Bo: "It was Jesuit who called you in, technically, and it was to deal with a willworker problem."

Ben: "Yeah. The problem was your insane Nazi vampire made friends with an insane Nazi willworker."

Jesuit: "I don't think Unilateralis had so much ideology."

Ben: "Maybe if his name was Steve."

Jesuit: "We don't name ourselves things like St--"

Ben: "But instead he named himself after the ant parasite Ophiocordyceps unilateralis, more commonly known as zombie fungus. Which is a very evocative name. So clearly he had some ideas about what was going on there, with his whole..."

Father Jesse: "His whole thing."

Jesuit: "That's fair. Still...there is a certain kind of willworker who will just choose some Latin formulation for the hell of it. You can usually tell what kind of people they are from that."

Father Jesse: "Assholes?"

Jesuit: "I did not say that."

Ben: "You implied it."

Father Jesse: "Evil assholes?"

Jesuit: "You're talking to someone who has given Mass in Latin. Careful with the moral valence."

Father Jesse: "Fuckin' Catholics."

Jesuit: "Do you want to have another conversation about Evangelical Christianity? Really? After we just got done with Pastor Bleaker?"

Ben: "Pastor Bleaker?"

Father Jesse: "Another TV preacher rolled into town, don't worry about."

Ben: "Now 'Pastor Bleaker' is an incredibly evil name."

Jesuit: "This is true."

Father Jesse: "Okay fine. Unilateralis. It just meant he was a dork. A really scary dork."

Ben crushes his first beer can and sets it aside. "He talked too much. But that seems to be, like, the thing with this line of work."

Jesuit: "The good news is, we confirmed he wasn't working with the Baltimore Pylon."

Father Jesse finishes his beer as well, and then grabs his second packed Bloody Mary. Ben takes the opportunity to shove another Natty Bo into the ice. "'He' being Unilateralis, or the Doctor?"

Jesuit: "The former, but I think that implies the latter too. At the very least we've found no other evidence of collaboration, and there was no link between this...thing...and the local Seers."

Ben, already halfway into his next beer: "You promised me an explanation of what the fuck that was all about, Jes."

Father Jesse: "No I didn't."

Ben: "No, Jes. Jesuit."

Father Jesse: "You can't call us both Jess."

Ben: "I didn't--"

Father Jesse: "You did!"

Ben: "There was clearly more of a Z sound on Jes, and more of a second-syllable emphasis on Jess!"

Father Jesse: "Those sound the same."

Ben: "No!"

Father Jesse: "They sound the same!"

Behind Father Jesse's back, Jesuit sort of half-shrugs at Ben. Just let him have it.

Ben: "Okay, fine. Jesuit. Who understands me. I'm calling in my mark on that."

Jesuit: "Yes. So. We...don't quite know what Unilateralis was. Yet."

Ben snorts and takes another chug, while Father Jesse sips his Bloody Mary.

Jesuit: "That is actually somewhat scary in and of itself. Gives off notes of...Abyssal tannins, and the fruits of forbidden lore. I need more wine." He pours himself another glass.

Father Jesse: "You know, there's this great Malbec I could set you up with, it's--"

Jesuit doesn't quite whirl on him, but his voice is very firm: "You know I do not drink red wine, Jesse." Then he sees the grin on the vampire's face. "Right. You're fucking with me. What was the joke? It was the Enrique Iglesias joke, wasn't it."

Father Jesse: "I was going to go with Julio Iglesias this time."

Jesuit, sipping his white wine decisively: "You cannot build an entire genre of joke around Spanish men who love wine whose last name HAPPENS to translate to 'church.'"

Father Jesse: "I mean..." He spreads his arms and almost hits Ben in the face with a Bloody Mary. "Whoops, sorry."

Jesuit: "But yes, Benjamin. You called him a--"

Ben: "A soul vampire."

Jesuit: "Yes. I don't think that's technically accurate."

Father Jesse: "And we aaaaare off the hook."

"What?" Jesuit frowns at the vampire. "No you're not. How are you -- your man hosted him!"

Father Jesse: "Off the hook for Unilateralis, I mean. If he's not a vampire--"

Jesuit: "Again: he invited him to the city!"

A theatrical sigh from the vampire. "And now, once again, we vampires get to hear all this regressive stuff about invitations."

Jesuit: "Oh fuck you." While Father Jesse cackles: "So. There is literature about Leeches -- left-hand legacies which try to merge the Curse with the Awakening to incredibly mixed results. There's a level of debasement put forth in the literature that this Unilateralis didn't seem to have; an accentuation of the Curse. This man appeared repeatedly in daylight and, indeed, we killed him in his hotel room just after noon. Perhaps -- PERHAPS -- he was stealing souls, yes, but the mechanism by which he kept them would have had to be purely Supernal. And the mechanisms for that are extremely difficult; soul jars are no easily-summoned, easily-maintained thing."

Ben: "Nah, he was stealing souls."

Jesuit: "You've said that before, but I don't see how--"

Ben, on his third beer: "He tried to steal mine. You know, in that hotel suite, while you were holding him down. Thought he'd take me because I was just some dude, then use my power to take you and Everclear."

Jesuit: "Everafter."

Ben: "Right, that's what I said. 'Servant, you will serve me,' were literally the words that came out of his...Twilight mouth, I guess. Not his actual mouth."

Jesuit: "...No, they came out of his actual mouth too."

Ben: "And then he tried to take my soul. I could feel him reach in with his ghostly hand and pull at where it used to be..." He stops to take a sip of beer, then starts chuckling, then outright laughing. "But it wasn't fuckin' there, boys! My soul had already left the building!"

Crushing his third beer can: "And all our boy Uni found was a lady who gets real, real fucking mad when you kill co-eds."

Father Jesse: "Kind of sad I missed it."

Ben: "Don't be. You know how ghost fights are. I look like I'm pretending to be a Jedi on Youtube."

Jesuit: "It was quite amusing."

Ben: "But you still owe me more, Jesuit. I already knew he was a weird mage."

Jesuit: "Yes, yes. We'll continue to look into it. ...How is Tara?"

Ben smiles. "You know, she's doing alright."

For another half-hour, the three men discuss personal matters, drink, crack jokes, and even watch a video on Ben's phone. Then the bells ring midnight.

Ben: "Merry Christmas, boys."

Father Jesse: "Merry Christmas."

Jesuit: "Merry Christmas."

Below, three cop cars tear by, sirens blazing. Ben takes the beer he had chilling in Father Jesse's cooler and puts it back into his twelve pack; it's about time to go.

Jesuit: "...One more thing."

Ben's already stood up. Father Jesse: "Yeah?"

Jesuit: "There's something wrong in this city. Something coming, or something already here. We don't know what it is yet. We probably won't know what it is until it's too late. But it's been building. Steeping in the crucible at the center of our joint franchise, ever since..."

Father Jesse's face has gone dark: "Halloween."

"No," says Jesuit. "No. Not quite."

Into the silence across the roof: "But only just."

After a moment, Ben: "Am I...supposed to do something with this information?"

Jesuit: "Wait."

Ben: "For what?"

Jesuit: "You'll know."

Ben: "Christ, I hate--"

Father Jesse and Jesuit: "Hey!"

Ben: "...Jeez, I hate mages. Is that fine? Is Jeez still fine, Jess and Jez?"

Father Jesse throws an empty beer can at him. Jesuit follows suit. Ben, as he retreats: "Hah! Okay! Nice seeing you too! Make sure to pick those up!"

Father Jesse: "See you when I see you."

Jesuit: "Good night, Benjamin."

When the sin-eater is gone, Father Jesse says, "You know, he's been a lot more reliable than we were led to believe about those guys."

Jesuit: "That's because he's a good man." He kills the last of the wine. "We've been blessed with more than the usual number."

Father Jesse: "How many is that?"

Jesuit: "More than a dozen, city-wide."

They share one last laugh at that. Then, the Hierophant of Baltimore grimaces. "I wasn't kidding with Benjamin. You need to brace for impact. Something's coming, and it's probably coming out of my shop, and it fucks me up that I don't know what it is yet."

Father Jesse picks up his cooler. "I know the feeling. Good luck."

Jesuit stares out over the Baltimore skyline. "Good luck. And Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas." The vampire heads for the door.

The wind picks up a bit, and Jesuit stares north, up Calvert Street at St. Ignatius. It has been quite some time. "Some day, I will return," he murmurs. "Some day we will all return."

When the wind picks up again, the roof of the Baltimore Basilica is empty.

--fin