his … needs that come with his kills … afterward …”
Gabriel closed his eyes and breathed slowly. He didn’t know what that entailed. But he knew Sela had designed and crafted a coffin for Maria, a coffin Raphael kept in their room. And he knew that Maria often lay inside it for Raphael’s pleasure.
Gabriel would never forgive himself for allowing Maria to be brought into this life, for not freeing her from Raphael when he had the chance. Yet, at the same time, he could see the intense, all-consuming love she had for Raphael in her every breath, her every move. He could see how happy she was. The way she looked at Raphael, the way he looked at her as if being with her was like touching heaven itself. In truth, Gabriel envied them, despite his lack of understanding of how they had found their way to love when they were so different, both morally and spiritually.
An ache broke out in his chest. In his entire life he hadn’t experienced anything like that kind of love. He couldn’t even imagine what it would be like … to have someone who loved him with that kind of fierceness, that kind of understanding and unwavering faith. His mind drifted to Michael, and he felt warmth in his chest as he remembered how Michael had bitten Diel to get him off Gabriel. He had pushed Gabriel behind him to protect him. Michael rarely showed any emotion over anything but blood and the thought of exsanguination. He certainly didn’t speak to Gabriel like a normal brother. He never had done. But Gabriel fought a small smile when he remembered just how fiercely Michael had hovered over Diel when he’d been lost to his dark thoughts. Gabriel may not have had eros, a love in his life like Maria and Raphael did, but he had his family, and for him, that would be enough.
Maria sighed, pulling his attention back to her. “You know I believe I was meant to be here, Gabe. You are a man of faith just as much as I am a woman of it. We both believe the world works in ways we will never understand—mysterious and magical.”
She turned to face him, putting her hand on his arm. “I believe that all of it—my family’s deaths, my kidnapping, my rescue, my training as a nun, meeting Father Quinn and Father Murray …” Maria laughed and lifted a strand of her long hair. “Even this hair. It all led me to Raphael. Without any one of those things, we would have been ships passing in the night.” She squeezed Gabriel’s arm. “All of that, it led me to help you. To share this burden.”
Maria approached the wall. She lifted a finger and ran it over the pictures of the priests they knew were definitely part of the Brethren sect. Gabriel saw her become lost in thought, then she said, “Have you ever entertained the notion that Raphael, Diel and the others were saved, you were saved, to rid the world of this evil?” She pointed to the small list of names before her.
Gabriel stilled. A shard of ice trickled down his spine. He’d only ever felt that feeling a few times before. When he’d finally accepted what Michael really was, when he’d found that Purgatory was real, and when the true colors of his much-adored priest, Father Quinn, had been revealed. A feeling like his soul was shifting, leaning in another direction.
“The Bible has numerous examples of people being sent down a path by the divine to free people from enslavement, to rid the world of evil, to put right what has been wronged.” Maria shrugged. “Have you ever considered the idea that we were spared so we could rid the world of the Brethren, pretender priests who do nothing but bring pain and sin, polluting people’s trust and faith? That everything you have been put through was for this? For this very task? This moment?” She smiled fondly.
Gabriel and Maria had become close friends, no, more like brother and sister. “Your namesake, the archangel Gabriel, was a guardian, a protector of his people.” She nodded at him. “If those qualities don’t pertain to you, I don’t know what does.”
“Maria.” Gabriel rubbed his hand across his forehead. But her words had had the desired effect. A wave of peace and knowing washed through him. He did believe that things happened for a reason, he always had. He had always trusted his