Hell’s Rising. The gasps and mumbles of the onlookers were filled with reverence, their faith and awe tasting sweet on my tongue.
Of course, Azariah’s presence didn’t cancel me out. I also tasted the uneasiness people felt about me being here, and no doubt some of those whispers were also about the evil, horned temptress who had been getting awfully close to their priests.
“May I sit with you?”
I looked up at the human standing at the end of my pew. I was caught off-guard, focusing on the holy water ritual while blocking out everything else.
“Will.” I didn’t bother to hide my shock. “Are you sure?”
He smiled kindly, the scrapes on his face cleaned and his hands wrapped in fresh bandages. “If you’d rather be alone, I’ll leave you be.”
“No, I, uh—it’s alright with me if you want to.”
He slid along the bench to approach me, ignoring the looks of shock from the family a few pews behind us. “I have a lot to be thankful for,” he said, easing himself down next to me. “One of them being you.”
I blinked rapidly, the emotions coming from him both pleasant, yet unfamiliar. “This is...gratitude you’re feeling right now?”
“Oh yes.” He leaned forward, clasping his hands together on the back of the bench in front of us. “Immense gratitude. A whole new outlook on life, you could say.”
“He’s sitting with the demon....”
Will whipped around, his hesitation nonexistent. “This woman is no demon! She saved my life. She’s saved all of us.”
The woman who’d whispered clutched at her throat, her eyes widening in shock. I laughed, I couldn’t help it. The giddiness of being accepted by this one human I’d never done anything remotely sexual with flooded me. It was quickly chased by the dread that sank into me since Zach and I got up this morning. Now it wasn’t just the priests getting attached to me, but their flock.
Jesus, Joseph, and Mary. I’m sorry to say your names in vain, but I am so fucked.
Up on the pulpit, Zach and Azariah seemed to have completed the holy water ritual. Zach now wore the rosary around his neck, his hands clasped calmly in front of him as he spoke with some parishioners. Az had a small gathering of admirers as well, like usual. I wondered if he was preaching to them too about the miracles of threesomes.
“Father, will you please pray with me?”
My gaze narrowed on a young woman, about Zach’s age, who had approached him. He met my eyes briefly over her head, a sheepish look crossing his face before he smiled at her.
“Yes, of course, Caitlin.”
Caitlin turned, her pretty, twenty-something face almost smug as she slid into a pew with Zach right next to her. I snapped my eyes away, only to find fucking Az staring at me with a knowing grin.
“Jealous,” he mouthed without speaking.
“Chicken wings,” I mouthed back.
His amusement at my expense filled the air of the chapel, more overpowering than any human flavor.
“I’m going to take a walk,” I muttered, rising from my seat.
“Have a good day, Deyva,” Will muttered, his forehead still resting on his clasped hands. “Don’t let ‘em get to you, sweetheart.”
I froze for a moment, like his words had physically restrained me. Who exactly was I supposed to not let get to me? My priests? Human women who took my priests’ attention? Kimaris?
I had no destination in mind as I walked along the perimeter of the chapel. Some cartwheels in the gym could help me blow off some steam. Or…
The confessional, with its dark wooden paneling stuck out like a sore thumb against the cream-colored walls. It was tucked off to the side of the pulpit for the privacy of those seeking to confess. I normally didn’t like small, dark spaces, but my feet led me up to the slightly warped wooden door.
It felt like nothing like the dark, small cells I’d spent centuries in. If I reached, I could taste emotions still hanging in the wood itself. The cathartic release of baring your soul to someone you trusted, the vulnerability of such an act, and the safety and support this little box offered to so many people.
I opened the door and climbed inside, the lingering emotions pulling a sigh from my chest as I sat on the small bench. Closing the door behind me, I got a stark reminder of Stavros. His flavors so dark, heady and deep, yet so comforting.
Time escaped me while I sat in there. Maybe I even dozed off. Zach’s form