“Yeah, but our challenge is always that we’re by nature a reactive organization. That’s why I’m following these leads. I can’t just sit and wait.”

“You don’t need to justify your actions to me, Outlaw.”

“Boss,” I said, “I know you meant well sending Toys after me, but don’t do that again. I’m … I’m not entirely stable. I think you know that. He’s probably told you what I did.”

“It came up in conversation.”

“I’ve done a lot of … questionable things.”

“Would it comfort you at all to know that I, in my time, have done much worse?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. I’m about a long mile from real perspective.”

“Give it time, Outlaw. You’re doing better than you think.”

“I want to ask you something, and I don’t want you to think I’m an idiot or that I’ve gone completely off my rocker.”

“Try me,” said Church.

“You know about a lot of supernatural stuff, right?”

“I’m familiar with the scholarship and traditions of the larger world.”

“What do you know about flocks of black birds? Not just crows but all kinds, flocking together?”

There was a pause. “Tell me,” he said, his voice devoid of all emotion, “are they by any chance particularly ragged-looking? As if they’re all molting or windblown?”

I looked at the birds. Now there were more than a hundred. “Yes,” I said.

“Tell me where you’ve seen them.”

“My flight will be boarding soon.”

“Tell me.”

So I told him. And as I did so, I realized that there were more incidents than I’d been consciously aware of.

“And these night birds have been following you since Croatia? They first appeared after the incident in the basement?”

“Yes. What did you call them? Night birds?”

“Two words: night birds.”

“How scared should I be?”

“Very,” he said, and now there was a new note in his voice. “Not of them—no, definitely not of them—but of who it is they hate.”

“I … have no idea what the hell that means.”

“Outlaw … Joe … listen to me, the night birds are omens. They warn people of certain kinds of threats. There is a great deal of literature about this. But what you need to know is that they have often been reported during times when a certain person is awake and alive in the world.”

“‘Awake and alive’? You just went all Bram Stoker on me. Who are you…?”

And my words trailed off because I realized exactly who he was talking about.

“No,” I said. “No fucking way. You killed him.”

“I never said I killed him,” said Church. “I merely stopped him. For a time.”

“You’re saying Nicodemus is involved in all this?”

“Yes,” said Church. “I’m sorry to say that he is.”

CHAPTER 144

PHOENIX HOUSE

OMFORI ISLAND, GREECE