The black car pulled up by the cafe, and he watched as a dark brown-haired man got out and looked around, smiling faintly, before locating the tables overlooking the river and walked over.
He stood up and held out his hand as the man got nearer. 'Portman, I presume?'
The man's face went rigid for a moment, before he smiled and shook the hand. 'Yes, that would be me.'
'I am a humble parish that serves God.' Pale blue eyes flickered over Portman, before he gestured at two chairs. 'Do take a seat.'
Portman sat down and looked at the parish, who sat down before straightening out his vestments.
'Would you like some tea?'
'Yes, if you would be so kind.'
The parish nodded and held up a hand to summon a waiter. While the waiter jotted down what they would have, he glanced back at Portman and saw his face completely still as he stared with wide brown eyes at where the back of his head was. Then it was gone and Portman offered him a smile smile.
The two sat in silence as the parish waited for the refreshments to arrive, looking out at the river below them. The sun hung above the river, with half and hour left before sunset. Tourists had started to crowd around them, taking pictures and talking.
'Here are your two black teas,'the waiter spoke smiling as he placed down one in front of Portman and the other in front of the parish, before placing a metal teapot in the middle and leaving.
'I prefer mine with milk,'the parish said, his faint blue eyes looking at Portman. 'I've found that it helps when there's a long day ahead of me.' He slowly poured milk from the metal teapot inside his cup, before carefully placing it back, his eyes scrutinised on where the pot was placed before.
Still Portman didn't say a word and chose to instead stared at the parish with his wide brown eyes, perfect in their complete roundness with no streaks out of place and a black circle directly in the middle. It was unsettling in its perfection: the pupil completely round with the iris directly in the middle.
'I have called you,'the parish said slowly, choosing to stare directly back, 'over a matter of my friend, Monsieur Dubois. You have his granddaughter in captivity, I have been informed.'
The brunet continued to smile at him, and for a moment the parish felt that something was wrong. 'Ah. I see.' He offered no other explanation and opted to instead stare out at the river. 'It's a lovely day, parish.'
The parish slowly extended his fingers to hold the teacup by its handle and brought it to his mouth, swallowing down some of his tea.
Across from them, a couple were taking a selfie, the sun directly hanging above their heads.
He saw Portman's mouth curve up momentarily, making his face look wrong with the smile, almost as if he wasn't accustomed to smiling that much.
Subconsciously his hand placed the teacup back down and clicked off the recording underneath the table. 'How much payment would you like for Dubois's granddaughter?'
Portman turned back to him with a brilliant smile on his face, one so unlike the one he wore before in how it complimented his face down to the smallest details, the structures and muscles all arranged right. 'I see that we think alike, parish. However, no amount of money can buy Monsieur Dubois's grandchild.'
The parish's faint blue eyes crinkled at the edges. 'I'm sure we can work something out, Monsieur Portman. How would five hundred pounds do, for a start?'
'Less than what Jester offered me, and that was only half of the total,'Portman mused, now adorning a small frown. 'Perhaps you are not truly worried for Monsieur Dubois?'
'Then how much would you be satisfied with?'
Portman gave him a small smile, and the parish once again felt unsettled. 'Monsieur Dubois has spent a million pounds for his granddaughter's wellbeing. I would be satisfied with a million pounds.'
The parish frowned. 'You would prefer cash?'
'Cash, thank you.' Portman smiled.
The parish nodded. 'It was good meeting with you.'
'Likewise.' Portman seemed to hesitate, before he smiled again, making the hair on the back of the parish's neck stand up. 'It was nice talking with like-minded people.' The parish searched his face for what was wrong, then saw that the corners of his eyes didn't crinkle. The sudden realisation hit him as his eyes widened.
'I shall properly introduce myself. I am Portman, and on Edmund of Iees I invite you to join us. We kill demons.'
The parish pictured in his mind the dead body of a young girl, lying downwards with all her limbs cut and placed next to each other. He gathered his vestments and saw the couple opposite them, now wondering at the sunset, making the river glisten as if it were covered in a layer of melted gold and warm red. The two faces of both girls molded together, Monsieur Dubois's granddaughter and that of the girl's opposite. Suddenly he pictured the head rolling away from the rest of the limbs placed side by side, only this time it was his own.
He gathered himself and started: 'I am a humble servant of God.' He saw Portman frown, making him hesitate to continue. 'I do not serve Edmund of Iees.'
Portman looked away from him into the river. 'I see. It was my mistake, for mistaking us as like-minded.' He stood up and offered a smile. 'You can gather the money. We'll meet here tomorrow, and we can head over to my house to handle the transaction.'
'You could just tell me the location,'the parish uttered as calmly as he could.
The brunet man opposite him smiled faintly. 'I think not.' He reached for his inner pocket and for a moment the parish wondered at what he would do, before he drew out a phone, the waves on it still moving. 'You can have that.' He smiled kindly, and for the first time the parish saw the edges of his eyes crinkle. 'I have two.'
1029
