Pure & Sinful (Pure Souls) - By Killian McRae Page 0,65

was just too creepy for his paranormally-sensitive understanding. Marc hadn’t had enough advance notice of his subbing for the ailing Father Brown to prepare a sermon from scratch, forcing him to grab his notes from a random file he kept in an old steamer trunk.

He didn’t even notice until he stood at the pulpit that its subject was avoiding the temptations of the flesh. Given what almost happened between Riona and him the night before, Marc was certain God was going to send a custom-made lightning bolt before he concluded. Big Boss hated hypocrites like the plague. The ping made him wonder if Heaven had somehow found a way to text message retribution.

You’ve been damned. Thank you, bah-bye.

His cell only weighed four ounces, but felt heavier by the minute. As did the stares of the few dozen attendees, mostly old ladies of the blue-haired variety who peppered the church pews. Finally, about seven-thirty, as he shook the frigid fingers of the slowest, but sweetest of his audience, he was free. He didn’t know how, or why he was so excited, or how any good would come of the anticipation he was feeling, but somehow, instinctively, he knew it was her.

MARC: MUST SPEAK TO YOU IN PRIVATE. PLEASE STOP BY MY PLACE AROUND 9-R

“Fuck me.” His hand slapped over his mouth when he realized what he’d said in the house of the Lord. Looking up into the ether, Marc frantically whispered, “Sorry!” and swore he heard a forbidding roll of thunder from the skies above.

Of course, he couldn’t go. Of that, he had no doubt. Dee was right; he and Riona couldn’t be trusted alone. Now that he had tasted her lips, felt the euphoria of stirring desire within her, the anticipation of being inside her — it was too much to take, too much to resist. He’d been able to write off a lot of his actions to Asmodeus’s lust charm, but that didn’t explain the other times he’d been on the edge of slamming her into a wall and ravaging her. When they ended up in the hot tub together at the gym, his body pressed against hers as they made their escape… Pushing her against the lockers at St. Cecilia’s... Hell, even just seeing her way back when she slayed her first demon, sending that opportunistic demon scum of an ex-boyfriend packing, he felt dangerously drawn to her. He had to fight with his own judgment telling him that Riona was his woman to protect.

His inherent guilt manifested in the sensation that someone was watching him. Marc reminded himself that as a Pure Soul, he was sensitive to paranormal environments. Churches always had a low-level buzz of spirituality. He didn’t know exactly how hiding in the broom closet as he messaged Riona was going to shake that feeling for him, but he felt like too much of a dolt doing it in the rectory.

Panting like a beagle on a Mississippi afternoon in August, the response made with hands shaking was almost too much to hit the right keys and proved difficult: I’LL CALL D & SEE WHEN WE CAN BE THERE.

NO. ONLY YOU. PLEASE???

He shook his head like she could see him. BAD IDEA.

WHY?

Did she really have to ask?

ALMOST DAMNED US BOTH LAST NIGHT. WILL NOT DO THAT TO YOU.

THAT’S WHAT I WANT TO TALK ABOUT. AFRAID I DAMNED MYSELF. NEED TO ASK FORGIVENESS.

NOTHING TO FORGIVE. I DON’T HOLD IT AGAINST YOU.

?? NOT FROM YOU. FROM HIM.

As though she sensed his confusion, a few seconds later, his puzzled expression dissolved in the echo of his phone’s message alert.

GOD.

YOU’RE NOT A CATHOLIC. NOT EVEN CHRISTIAN.

DOES GOD CARE ONLY FOR CHRISTIANS? AM I NOT WORTHY OF HIS FORGIVENESS?

EVERYONE PENITENT IS WORTHY.

HELP ME. HELP ME ASK HIS FORGIVNESS.

What could he do? Had he not made a vow to the church to come to the aid of all those who sought such guidance? Riona may not be Christian, but she was sincere. If she was asking for his help on this, he knew her well enough to know she wasn’t making it up. Everyone had a dark night of the soul. After what they’d nearly done the night before, it stood to reason that the witch was doing some serious reflection too. Dee wouldn’t understand, of course. He was patient with Marc’s faith, but was relieved beyond measure when he learned that Riona was just as pagan as he was. If she were in a fragile state, like it sounded that she