Their Will be Done - Logan Fox Page 0,60

my body non-responsive no matter how hard I try to force it to move forward.

He knows you’re coming. No need to postpone the inevitable.

I wrap my hands over my chest, grabbing my elbows as I step inside. No use going in like a warrior in a battle charge—I must be the epitome of calm-as-fuck Brother Zachary. I can’t let my mask slip for even a second.

Not like it did last night with Cass.

I broke him.

But he’s still alive.

For nothing.

We don’t know that.

Shut the fuck up!

The argument in my head ceases. For now.

Let’s get this over with.

I announce myself with a weak, “Father?” as I step through the antechamber and into his apartment proper.

I’ve only been here once before, and then too briefly to remember much. The fire is lit but smoking heavily, as if the logs he put on were damp.

The laptop isn’t under the bed like Trinity said it would be. It’s right in front of Father Gabriel on the four-seater dining table.

White light bathes his face and reflects off a pair of glasses I’ve never seen him wear. I know I didn’t make a sound getting here, but as if he senses my presence, he looks up from the screen.

The jolt he gives when he sees me couldn’t have been faked and suddenly I’m questioning every fucking thing that’s led me to this point.

“Son,” he says, hurriedly taking off his glasses and standing as he closes the laptop lid. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”

Son?

I suppress a disgusted snarl before it can reach my lips. “It was open.” And then I add a belated, “Sorry, I should have knocked.”

“No, no.” Gabriel moves around the table, lifting his hands. “It’s perfectly fine. I was just…” He looks toward the fire. “Is it too warm? I thought with the rain it would be colder tonight.”

He’s wearing a t-shirt and jeans. With his glasses off, he could have been in his late thirties.

Keeps himself buff for a priest. Vain much, Father?

My eyes narrow as I study his back. What fucking game is he playing, pretending at some saintly priest who needs glasses to read and gets so easily caught up in his work he wouldn’t notice the knife plunging into his neck until it was too late?

Now I’m wishing I had a knife on me. Wishing I’d crept up behind him and used it.

But I could never forgive myself for doing such a selfish thing. My brothers deserve to take his life as much as I do.

We made a pact.

Their vengeance is mine. Mine is theirs.

If we can’t find the Ghosts, if we can’t get Gabriel to confess and give up their names, then we agreed to kill him together.

Gabriel’s voice wrenches me back to the present. “I’m glad you came to see me.”

“It’s about Santos—” I begin, eager to get this shit show on the road.

“Yes.” He waves a hand to one of the armchairs. “Please, sit.”

My skin crawls at the thought of being closer to him.

Coward.

I take the seat he offers and risk another glance around his room. With my back to it I can’t see much, but at least I have a good view of the bedroom area from here. His bed looks roughly made. Did he just draw the sheets up and plump the pillows?

Was he sleeping before he decided to turn on his laptop? Or has he not tidied since he woke up this morning?

Perhaps he never went to sleep.

I’d love to know what happened here last night. What he and Trinity spoke about. What he said to turn her against us.

Or had we done that ourselves?

“I know this would have been discussed at length during your seminal training, but after last night, I feel you may need a refresher.”

I frown up at Gabriel. “About what?” And then add a reluctant, “Father.”

“Celibacy.”

I look away, my lips writhing in an attempt to smile. I transform my bemusement into confusion so that when he turns to face me, he’ll see nothing suspicious. “I don’t follow.”

Gabriel’s face is anything but warm and kind. There’s a hardness to his mouth, a chill in his eyes.

There he is.

Is our Guardian coming out to play?

I slide my hands along the arms of the chair and sink my fingertips into the cushion.

We stare at each other until he breaks the frigid silence. “When did you and Cassius meet?”

My eyelashes flutter before I can widen my eyes in surprise. I don’t even have to fake it.

“When he enrolled?” I grimace inwardly