5
Silas hated the sun. He stared up at it through his darkly tinted sunglass. In his experience, which was significant, nothing fun ever happened during the daylight hours. Case in point, here he sat on his motorcycle outside the Dominican Friars monastery.
The building was out of place, a Gothic throwback wedged between two typical New York buildings. It was five stories tall and topped with soaring steeples. The facade gleamed a decaying green color in the bright sun.
This is where the priest that had been attacked was recovering. Silas assumed Mort had meant spiritually, although this place had a reputation as a poor man’s hospital. Rest and recuperation--basically a priest’s Club Med.
He lowered the kickstand of his bike and swung off it. The large wooden doors atop a set of
