Blessed Trinity Convent stood like a monument in stained glass, fronting a canal on one side and casting a dramatic shadow on a park to the east. Set idyllically among the trees, actual stone buttresses arched away from a massive A-frame, with scalloped gables and ceramic tiles circling the spire in a rust-tinted aquamarine. The structure forced every person with sight to gaze upon it in awe. Orgasmic architecture is what my school mates would have called it.

I didn't have any expectations for the place, having no memory of my first home, but when we reached the inner courtyard and the heavy front door swung into its frame, that's when I felt it all come together. Peace... and warmth, although some of the warmth probably came from central heating. I immediately gravitated to a wishing well centered amid a collection of potted peace lilies. Overhead, a stained glass skylight bathed everything in rainbows, and water trickled inside the well, filling the room with echoes.

A round-faced nun popped around the corner as we removed our coats, and she smiled sweetly at Ruben. "How nice to see you, Ruben. How is the family?"

"We're all in good health. Thank you, Sister Sharon." Ruben's polite greeting rolled off his tongue as easily as his smart remarks, making me wonder how often he had to switch roles.

"Ah, but physical health only gives us half the story." Sister Sharon's eyes twinkled as she provoked Ruben, and his face flushed a little.

"If I told you any more I would have to go to confessional." Ruben's innocent grin appeared to be his cure-all, and Sister Sharon released him from her scrutiny, turning to twinkle at me and Vincent.

"You two must be Vincent and Reese. Welcome to Blessed Trinity. Petula is expecting you. Follow me, please."

Sister Sharon led us into a wide hallway, at least it might have felt wide to a four-year-old, and on the wall hung pictures drawn by children, possibly Sunday school students. Right away, I felt more relaxed, seeing the less serious side of church. Not far into our walk, Sister Sharon stopped at a small room with outdated furnishings, although still comfortable, and I relaxed into a loveseat, pulling Vincent down with me. It was a tight fit, but that appeared to be a metaphor for us anyway.

"See. Nothing to it," Ruben said as he dropped into a chair across from us. "I can't wait to see the look on Petula's face when you tell her who you are."

Vincent squeezed my hand. His reminder to tread carefully.

"I'm just worried I'll hurt her feelings," I said. "She's my grandmother and I don't remember her. That'll be tricky to explain."

He chuckled. "You won't hurt her feelings. She's a tough old bird."

"How do you know her?"

"My mom went to Catholic school in India and she wanted to inflict the same education on her only child. I attended school down the road at Sacred Faith until I was old enough to put a stop to it. Petula is the only one I come back to visit."

"What does she teach?"

"She doesn't teach any one subject. She mostly watches and gives you insight about yourself. You know, the stuff nuns do."

"Did you ever get smacked on your ass with a ruler?"

Ruben laughed. "You might want to monitor your language here."

"Damn, that's my nerves talking."

Vincent leaned into my ear. "Ego in pace. Say it with me."

I indulged him, repeating the mantra out loud while Ruben gave his thumbs-up. In the midst of my chanting, a nun padded into the room. She stood at least six feet, a formidable figure when considering the habit she wore, and her wizened face looked like it held many deep thoughts.

"Could you tell me where I might find a trio of gollums?" she said as she gave Ruben a suspicious glance. "I'm sure that's what Sister Sharon told me. Or maybe she said humans."

Ruben stood to greet the woman, prompting Vincent and me to hop off the couch. "Hello, Petula. Long time no see."

"Has it been a long time?" She eyed Ruben with a grandmother's gaze, both fond and scrutinizing. "Time is relative. I remember a certain youngster reminding me of that whenever he showed up late for classes."

"I'm sure he always had a good excuse." Ruben turned his boyish grin on Petula, but she didn't seem as impressed as Sister Sharon.

"Oh, Ruben. Will you ever curb that sharp tongue?" Petula didn't require a response from Ruben. She had already turned her sage gaze on Vincent and me. "Vincent Valentino. I remember you, but I doubt you remember much of me. We met a long time ago at a Bourdain holiday event. You were with your mother and a younger brother."

"That would have been Jonathan," Vincent said, surreptitiously scooping my hand into his. "And I do remember meeting you. My mother spoke highly of you that night. Petula, I would like you to meet my mate, Reese Kentwell."

"It's lovely to meet you, Reese," Petula said as her dark, almond eyes surveyed me with purpose. "Is that your birth name or a nickname?"

Here we go.

"It's not my birth name, ma'am. It became Reese after I was adopted."

"You have lovely hazel eyes," Petula went on, still locked on me but with a deeper furrow in her brow. "A unique color for a gollum. You say you were adopted?"

"Yes. When I was four."

"Oh? And you never found your birth parents?"

"No. I didn't even know I was a gollum until I met Vincent last month. That's when I learned my mother passed away."

I felt Vincent's grip tighten around my fingers at the same time Petula appeared to have her realization. She took in a shuddering breath, and Ruben shot to her side, quickly ushering her to a chair.

"Are you alright, Petula?" he said. "Is it a hot flash? Can I get you some water?"

"Thank you, Ruben. That would be nice. The kitchen... just down the hall. You remember."

"Of course." With a desperate glance at me and Vincent, Ruben left the room, although I knew he hated to miss the action. As for me, I breathed a little easier knowing he was out of earshot.

"Is there anything I can do for you, Petula?" Vincent said as he crouched next to her chair. "I'm sorry if our visit has caught you unprepared."

"Elise?" My name slipped from Petula's mouth as she gazed upon me in awe. "Is it really you?"

I nodded. "Yes. It's me."

"But... how?"

"The police found me in an abandoned factory in Buffalo, but I don't remember anything before that. I grew up with my adoptive family in DC."

"And your birth father?" Petula said, glancing at the open doorway. "Have you seen him?"

"Yes, we've met, and I've been instructed to keep my lips sealed about that debacle while I'm in Chicago."

She bobbed her head. "I'm sure you have. And whose idea was it to visit me? Did Marco tell you about me?"

"No. I learned about you from Cecile."

Her eyebrows shot so high they disappeared under her wimple. "Cecile? How did you get an audience with the demon queen?"

"After a couple failed attempts, including destruction of my parent's property, I was escorted to the hive by a pair of demons."

"Oh dear," she said, her face paling a shade. "She wants you to finish the job your mother started."

"Yes, ma'am. She does."

Ruben hurried back into the room with a pitcher of water and a stack of plastic cups tossed onto a tray. He set it on an end table next to Petula's chair and started pouring. "Did I miss anything important?" he said. "You're still upright. That's a good sign."

"Does your father know you're here, Ruben?" Petula asked as she took the cup he offered.

"No, but he knows I picked up Reese and Vincent from the airport."

"And Manjari? Has she asked to see Reese?" she pressed.

Ruben glanced at Vincent, looking uncertain for the first time since I'd met him. "Yes, but Vincent and Reese are only here until tomorrow morning. They probably won't have time."

"I see." Petula took a drink and Ruben continued his duties at the watering station, filling another cup. "What do you plan to do while you're here, Reese?" she asked.

"You were the reason for my visit, actually. I had a few personal questions I wanted to ask you. Um, they have to do with the hive, since you spent some time there." I looked pointedly at Ruben, who immediately pouted as he caught my drift.

"Oh, I get it. I'm the odd man out," he said. "I'll just take a walk through the park. When you're done here just look for the guy attracting all the pigeons." He handed off a cup to me and took his leave without instilling too much guilt.

Vincent tapped my hand. "Are you going to drink that. I'm parched."

I grinned at his apologetic shrug and Petula grinned too.

"How long have you two known each other?" she asked.

"Five weeks," Vincent said. "We met October nineteenth."

I turned to stare at Vincent as he polished off the water in two gulps. "I thought only girls were supposed to know details like that."

"I'm good with dates."

"You introduced Reese as your mate," Petula said. "Have the mighty magisters already given you permission?"

Vincent's cool facade didn't falter as he offered his reply. "Not yet, but I don't need a bunch of signatures on fancy letterhead to tell me how I feel."

A smile played on Petula's face, like Vincent's confidence reminded her of something. "The practice continues because they need to have order, but nothing supersedes the bond between mates. I am glad you found each other. Now, Reese. I would love to hear all about your life and how you came to meet your handsome prince, but you said you had personal questions for me."

I tapped Vincent's hand, gesturing to the pitcher, and he quickly submitted to my unspoken request. "Oh, that... Well, I threw the personal questions thing out there to move Ruben along. This gag order is brutal."

Petula nodded. "Well played. So, how should we proceed with this visit? Do you want to tell me about Cecile? What did you make of her?"

"I thought she was beautiful yet creepy at the same time."

"Like staring into the eyes of death and being enchanted by it," Petula offered.

"Exactly. We had our chat inside her honeycomb chamber."

"Good heavens, really?" Petula tsked at her cup. "That chamber is reserved for merry making."

"Fortunately, the merry making was over when I arrived, and I talked to Cecile and Hadria from their futon bed. They asked me to find them an amulet with supernatural qualities, something that will keep a demon queen alive for centuries."

Petula's head bobbed as I recited my tale, but she didn't look ready to comment yet, so I went on.

"This was the only time I saw Cecile. Vincent showed up at the hive the next day, demanding my release, and I left with two letters from her. It turns out she believes Hadria is plotting to kill her and rule the hive with an iron fist, which is why..."

"Cecile needs two amulets so she can appease Hadria with one while she trains up a replacement." Petula spoke as she cradled her water cup between her palms. Memories were definitely coming to her.

"You already know this story," I said.

"Yes, I know this story. I heard Cecile tell it to your mother, Gabrielle. How much do you know about your mother?"

"Not much. I know she was raised in Cecile's hive, and she died the night Vincent's father died. The night I was found by the police."

Petula drifted into silent meditation, focusing on her lap while Vincent filled my water cup. The next moment, she popped out of her chair, startling us both. "Follow me, you two. I want to show you something."

Petula's billowing form led us down a quiet corridor much less decorated than the wide hallway. This one had oak paneled walls with no paintings whatsoever, and simple recessed lighting, providing only what was necessary to usher a body from place to place. I had seen the design before in churches, the simple servant's quarters contrasting against the grand architecture paying homage to the saints.

Petula led us through a doorway into a compact room not much bigger than a walk-in closet, and Vincent had to duck as he entered, but so did Petula. "This is my room," she said as she made for a desk. "We usually don't bring visitors back here, but since you spent a good bit of time in my room, Reese, I thought you'd like to see it."

With the weight of my previous life growing heavier by the minute, I went ahead and looked around. On the wall behind Petula's desk, a bulletin board held the contents of a life. Photos, post cards, drawings, all pinned with purpose. As I stretched for a closer look, I noticed the drawings were of winged beasts, some sitting on top of buildings, and some crouched over railings, poised to strike. Clearly, they were gollums, so I had to ask.

"Who drew those pictures?"

Petula's eyes wrinkled as she smiled a proud smile. "Those are your mother's drawings. She expressed herself best through colored pencils. There are a few of your works as well. If you look hard, you will see your name." She pointed to a smear of blue and green paint on paper, but I could not bring myself to look for a name. I needed to take it slow.

"Speaking of Gabrielle's talent, this is a sketch your mother drew for you." Petula handed over a well-executed rendition of a female gargoyle standing on a bell tower, with yellow hair and white horns. "As I recall, you were very fond of this particular drawing. You kept it hung on the wall behind your tiny bed and spoke to it quite seriously. I want you to have it. Look at the bottom. Your mother has written something to you."

"Ignis extra. Paolo Flamma." I read the words out loud as I looked to Petula for translation

"It says, 'Fire within, fire without'. She signed it to her little flame. She used to call you that." Petula then held out a photograph and set it on top of the drawing. "This is your mother at age twenty-two. The last photo taken of her. She was so proud of her winged form, she had me take a picture to document it."

I gaped at the photo of my mother, posing like Peter Pan, her black wings spread wide behind her, waves of blonde hair sweeping over her top-heavy figure, and a glint of mischief winking from her big brown eyes. But it wasn't her eyes or her boobs that had me stunned. I couldn't drag my gaze away from her forehead where a pair of white horns protruded.

My mother had horns.