followed her into the trees, their dark leather clothes aiding them in melding into the night.
“We follow the line of trees to the spring,” Dinah said. “Then we travel through those tunnels directly underneath the barn.” She took in a deep breath. “Then we attack.”
Dinah led the way, Gabriel taking up the rear. Noa released Diel’s hand, but he was a shadow at her back. Someone being so protective of her would have irked her once. But Diel was a wall of comforting light behind her. And she was a shield of protection in front of him.
The sound of a trickling stream guided them to the cave. They ducked underneath the spring. The water ran in heavy rivulets off their leather hoods. Once they reached the network of tunnels, Dinah shined a dim flashlight. No one spoke. The sounds of breathing and footsteps on the hard ground were the only things Noa could hear.
Dinah navigated the twists and turns with ease, the days of scouting this location paying off in droves as she weaved and ducked past low rocks and slippery walls until she came to a sudden halt.
When everyone was gathered at a wide swell of the tunnel, Dinah pointed to the roof above them. Noa could see a circular hatch, one that would lead them into a feed store in the barn. From that door, they would enter the main body of the barn, which the Brethren had fashioned into a meeting room. The barn looked worn and unused from the outside. Inside, it boasted the usual opulence of the church.
Dinah cut the flashlight, plunging them all into darkness. Noa closed her eyes and let that inky darkness spread throughout her body. She let her tongue remember the taste of death—sweet, sweet death of the priests who had hurt her, her family, her sisters, and Diel.
Someone pressed against her arm, and she knew that scent. Diel. She relaxed for a second into his muscular arm. Uriel lifted Dinah up, she opened the hatch, then light flooded the tunnel and Dinah slipped though the opening. The Coven followed first, then the Fallen. Dinah closed the hatch, and the door became invisible among the barn’s wooden floorboards.
Noa’s head snapped toward the door to the meeting room. The low hum of chanting voices drifted toward them, a sinister prayer. Hatred pulsed within her. Diel and his brothers looked like rabid dogs, but for Gabriel, who appeared deep in prayer.
The rest of the Fallen rocked from side to side, racehorses frantic in their boxes. Even with a face covering, Noa could see a manic grin on Bara’s face as he stared at the door between the Brethren and themselves, his cheek muscles and crinkled skin around his eyes giving it away. The Fallen’s need for Brethren deaths was addictive, and Noa let go of any light she held inside her.
She became darkness. She was death incarnate.
Dinah held up her hand, just as a scream cut into the room like a thrown axe hitting the bullseye on a target. A child. One of the night’s sacrifices. The hum of the Brethren grew louder and louder, their sacrificial ritual growing in momentum. Noa could only imagine what was happening behind those walls, the fucked-up things that grown men would be inflicting on innocent souls.
A savage, low snarl slipped from Diel’s mouth. They quickly fell into their practiced formation, into the phalanx that Dinah had drilled into their heads so that it was simply muscle memory at that point. Dinah focused on the door. Noa took a sharp knife in her hand. She knew the Fallen were choosing their weapons too.
Then Dinah’s hand dropped, and she burst through the door. Both Coven and Fallen were a flowing sea of destruction, a relentless current coming to drag the Brethren under their waves.
Brethren were everywhere, their black robes and red dog collars beacons to Noa’s rage. But when the Brethren ran at their impenetrable phalanx, it wasn’t the priests that Noa’s attention fixed on. It was the two children in the center of the room. One was tied to a rack, his arms and legs spread-eagled, stretched, sweat pouring off his forehead. His eyes rolled as he fought to stay conscious.
All Noa could see was red, a curtain of death drawing over her vision. As the Brethren formed into lines, worthy enemies for the Fallen and Coven alliance, Noa unleashed fucking hell. As they barreled into her and her sisters like boulders, into Diel and his brothers,