is, a child of God seeking refuge. If that's the case, who do you think is testing our faith? Testing our hearts? If this creature is in need, seeking mercy, sanctuary, what mark is it on our souls to refuse her?"
Stavros and I both sighed as Leanne and a few others sat down, that soft spell of calm taking over the town as Zach began to speak.
"Take her off the stage," Stavros whispered. "If they can't see her, they won't be constantly reminded of…"
Of the horns, the preternatural beauty, the eerie eyes, and the strange, vivid blue of her blood. Demons didn't come in beautiful bottles from what I'd seen, and I’d seen more than most while I was still a chaplain in the army, fighting the first rising. Still, she was clearly not human, and that was enough to scare our town.
I set my hand on her shoulder, resisting the urge to flinch. The dreams I'd had, the ones full of her, and been so vivid it was like I was living them. I knew the exact porcelain smooth texture of her skin. What was worse was that in real life, touching this creature was amplified, beyond reality, as if a magnifying lense had been placed over my nerve endings, sending rapid and overly detailed messages to my brain.
The basest part of me wondered what that would make the sex feel like.
"You know the parable of the Good Samaritan. You heard it a hundred times growing up," Zach continued as I guided the succubus to the back of the dais, slipping through the open door. "'So he asked Jesus “And who is my neighbor?’’’ Travelers from different towns, that's all of us. We've all met one another midway on this journey, all felt the spite of robbery against our lives since the Rising…"
"Take me to the balcony," she whispered, resisting the pull of my arm.
"Why?"
"Because I want to listen," she said, lips curling in that infernal smile she kept sporting.
Why? I wanted to ask again. This…succubus made me feel like a parrot. Why was she here? Why had she chosen us, our dreams? Why leave hell now in its victory?
"You have to be silent," I said, glaring at her.
She nodded. "I know. I won't let them see me. Just let me hide up there."
The hall was quiet, and our footsteps echoed on the linoleum. This area was a later addition to the classic structure of the church, more modern and full of little community rooms and offices. I'd been planning on stashing her down in the cellar where I could lock the door from the outside and then…
Leave her there? Is that really a better example than throwing her back to Hell?
"Fine," I said, turning heel and heading for the narrow stairs that would take us up to the balcony.
Her feet slapped against the cracked linoleum and I glanced down, my jaw gritting. She was barefoot, leaving little blue footprints on the floor, her feet torn and covered in black ash.
"Are you bleeding?"
"I'll clean it up," she said quickly.
We’d nearly passed the supply closet and the succubus went slipping and stumbling as I stopped suddenly, yanking the door open. The first aid kit hung in a basket inside and I grabbed it with my free hand, ignoring her stare on my face.
"Is this going to work on you?"
"It's going to help. Thank you, Kais."
She flinched as I whipped my stare back at her, just a tiny fraction of a movement. It might've been faked, but she recovered quickly, expression smoothing. She reacted to sudden movements, had fear impulses, like when she thought I'd pulled a real gun on her, and there were…marks around her throat and on the high arch of her cheek.
Trap.
I tugged her along to the stairs, shutting down the argument in my head and trying not to take my frustration out on her arm in my grip.
Her steps were silent up to the balcony, and she slid soundlessly down to the floor, pulling free of my grip and scooting over to the wall of the balcony as I watched. Her hands were still tied behind her back, and her feet looked worse now that I could see the soles, like she'd walked over hot coals. Caused by the Hellfire that had rained down, probably. I knelt at her feet, opening the first aid kit as quietly as I could.
I'd have to tell the others how quiet she could be, make sure one of us knew where