in the church and my desire to watch them burn.
I’d wanted to set fire to my enemy, and my body had given me the weapon I craved.
That was fucking scary.
The sobering realization of what fueled my power was what caused the flame to flicker out. The fire froze in place on my arm, then turned to red ash and blew away into the night. For a few seconds my fingers continued to glow blue until that, too, returned to normal.
“What are you?” Wilder asked, his eyes wide.
I said nothing.
Because I didn’t know what the answer was anymore.
My head felt foggy now that the flame was gone, and I couldn’t quite remember what I’d been thinking about or what we had said right before the incident. It was like my memories were a photo and someone had gone over them with grease, blurring the edges and throwing everything out of focus.
Movement inside the church distracted us, saving me the awkwardness of trying to come up with a reasonable answer for what had just happened. I had no clue where the ability to subconsciously cast had come from. It had felt so natural I was amazed it had never happened before.
That I could remember.
I thought briefly about the charred woman I’d been seeing, and my fingers tingled in response to the thought.
No…there couldn’t be a connection there.
There couldn’t.
I set the horrific notion aside to focus on what was unfolding inside the church.
Hank had been pulled to his feet, though he was too wobbly to stand unsupported. His hands, which had previously been bound, were now free.
What were these people up to?
Timothy beckoned to someone, crooking his fingers out to the attendees like he was inviting them closer. Only one of them got up though. The woman in the sweater and jeans sitting towards the back rose to her feet and came to the front of the church to stand next to him.
None of the others looked directly at her, nor she at them. Her expression was something deeper than stoicism. She was totally checked out. The lights were on, but no one was home. I wished I could see her closer up to tell whether or not she was on something. I’d never seen a sober person appear so empty.
Timothy placed a hand on her shoulder, and in response I felt a chill, as if he’d touched me and not her. She didn’t even flinch.
He leaned in and whispered something to her, and a moment later she removed her shirt, then her pants. She stood next to him in her underwear, and none of the other churchgoers did anything. Most of them were focused anywhere but on her.
I didn’t have to know what was happening to know this wasn’t good.
Timothy pushed the woman in front of Hank, but Hank could barely hold his head up, let alone look at her. What were they playing at here?
One of the men in suits handed Timothy a slim rod, and I recognized it as the cattle prod from the video.
Fuck.
My immediate thought was exactly what I’d been holding Wilder back from this whole time. I wanted to break through the window and pull Hank away from them. I knew it was stupid, but all the same it was what I wanted to do.
Timothy jabbed Hank in the gut with the cattle prod, making Hank’s body jerk and spasm in ways that looked so painful I almost turned away. I owed it to Hank to keep watching. From the corner of my eye I could tell Wilder was equally focused on what was happening inside.
The longer we watched, the less likely I thought it would be for us to follow Cain’s directions of bringing Timothy in alive.
Death was too kind for this prick. I hoped Cain had something cooked up for him that was so depraved it would make the Marquis de Sade blush.
When Hank stopped jerking, things went from bad to worse. An injured werewolf is akin to an animal caught in a trap. The wild part of our brain takes over and we’re less human than we normally are. Hank, who had been sustaining regular beatings and was now free of his shackles, focused his rage on the first thing he saw.
The half-naked woman standing in front of him.
The horrible depths of Timothy’s plan struck me like a closed fist to the face. He wanted to make us hurt. He wanted to show the world werewolves and supernaturals were monsters, not people. That’s precisely