would help, not against such a brute. No matter. Tina wouldn’t watch the convent’s kindest nun be abused by the demon.
He didn’t attack Sister Katherine. He refused to speak to her. He merely gestured to another guard, sending her to talk to an obvious underling, who stared at Katherine with something approaching fear. Not as if he worried she’d attack him, but with the awed trepidation a lowly peasant might watch an approaching queen. It might have been funny if he hadn’t been as capable of breaking the nun in half as the first Kalquorian.
Tina wiped her cheeks and glanced at the supposed leader again. She was startled to see him staring at her with unwavering intensity. Exactly as she’d imagined. Though her voluminous sleeping gown concealed her from throat to toes, his attention left her feeling exposed. Naked before that burning regard.
She turned away, her face warming. She didn’t dare to check to confirm if he still watched her.
Such a big, strong man. Fear mixed with odd but shockingly pleasant sensations, confusing her. Upsetting her. Another round of sobs threatened. She swallowed, forcing them down before lending them a voice. At least she could control that much, unlike the tears that refused to end.
She hated the weakness, but that was the situation, wasn’t it? The women in the dining hall were all weak, as they’d been taught they were. Weak in body, weak in mind, weak in morals, as Mother Superior had warned them, exhorting them to keep themselves as pure as their susceptible souls would allow.
Tina hadn’t agreed with her assessment, though she’d never argued against it outside of her own mind. But it was true where physical strength was concerned. The Kalquorians had swooped in and overcome the convent in a matter of seconds, taking its residents prisoner.
Mary Anderson had stopped screaming several minutes ago. She slid close to Tina, sniffling but under control. She whispered, “What does Sister Katherine think she’s doing?”
Tina stiffened at the accusatory tone. Despite being attractive, with a glorious, perfect mane of chestnut hair even when sleep-tousled, Mary was a girl of rough edges. Those edges rubbed a lot of the others wrong. Her querulous voice and constant fault-finding had made her unpopular. The current situation demanded they band together, but Tina had to force herself to remain near her fellow aspirant.
“She’s trying to find out what’s going on. To learn where Mother Superior, the other nuns, and the younger girls are. Did you notice they’re missing?”
Their present danger couldn’t keep Mary from judgment. “She should keep her distance. Fraternizing with Kalquorians will get her in trouble.”
“She’s not fraternizing, Mary. She’s trying to protect us, like she always does.”
Tina kept her tone from being sharp. Not for Mary’s benefit, but for the other aspirants scooting close to them to listen.
Tina scanned the faces around her. She was surrounded by those her age or older, but in their terror, they resembled the convent’s littlest children.
Weak.
Tina wished Sister Bernadette was with them instead of Sister Katherine. Kindness wasn’t called for in such a situation. If Mary had rough edges, then Sister Bernadette was a well-honed blade, as sharp and no-nonsense as a woman could be. Only Bernadette could be counted on to take her own life rather than forced to surrender to the enemy. If the Kalquorians hadn’t been quick to react, disarming her and rushing her out of the dining hall as she screamed and fought with fearless defiance, she’d be triumphantly dead.
Where had she gotten the knife? More importantly, where had they taken her? Tina wished she had told Katherine to ask.
“This is the end,” Mary groaned. “We’re doomed.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. They’re just standing there, keeping us in one place. They must have thought this was a military installation or something along those lines.”
“Why do you say that?” Sabrina asked.
“It’s obvious, isn’t it? They didn’t take us straight to their ship.” Tina gained courage from the idea hatching in her mind. “If they were going to do—what Earth says they want to do—then they’d have done it already, right? Right?”
A few managed hopeful expressions, nodding at her theory. Mary scowled.
Tina ignored her. “They knocked us out instead. Now they’re trying to figure out their next move, because a convent isn’t what they came here for.”
As she gained steam, she recognized the many holes in her theory. If the Kalquorians had shown up by mistake, why hadn’t they left as soon as they realized it? And why were all the minors and elder