Kitty wasn’t paying attention as she texted someone on her phone. I now wished I had a person to text to divert my attention from the surrounding commotion. Still, I elbowed her. She sighed, set her phone aside, and looked up, making me wonder if shehadheard and was just using her phone to pretend not to notice.
I did a double take when I noticed Frank Churchill in the pew behind Charles. He sat there, his shoulders hunched. My heart started to race. Frank hadn’t been to church in years. He looked quite dashing in his wine-colored button-up shirt and black slacks. The sleeves were rolled, revealing his tanned muscular arms. His collar was slightly open, highlighting the lines of his neck and square jaw. Despite him being more Lizzy’s age, I’d watched him from afar, even as a child, envying his easy manner and deep laugh.
But today Frank wasn’t smiling. In fact, his rich brown eyes held an odd desperate gleam.
Kitty elbowed me back. “Frank is here.”
“I saw,” I whispered.
“Of course you did.” She gave me a smile, but the sound of a large book hitting the podium caused me to flinch and turn back to Pastor Collins’s sermon before I could tell her she was being ridiculous.
Frank and I hadn’t even spoken since we were kids.
Pastor Collins opened the large text with a sharp crack. I eyed the tome with a bit of concern. The ancient texts were magically protected, but preserved or not, that book dated back many centuries. Pastor Collins straightened his fae robes and looked over the crowd. He began flipping through the pages with purpose. Each flick was so rough, I found my fingers twitching, wanting to pull the large book from him and show him how to care for a text of such age. But Pastor Collins obviously didn’t care. He lifted his chin, observing his flock through narrowed eyes.
“There has been a death among us.” He paused, glancing around those gathered as several whispers rose from the congregation. He ducked his head back toward the book. “The ancients teach us to beware the magic that is unlike ours. Beware the magic of the witch, eschew the darkness of the werewolf and the vampire. But especiallyforeswear those witches who deal in death. For theirs is an abomination, and we, the fae of light, are to live within the brilliance of the sun.”
He looked up from the page he was reading. “And now we understand the wisdom of such words,” Collins continued. “We see it in the loss of our own. Isabella Ravenswood.”
He paused dramatically while more whispers erupted from the worshippers, as he probably knew they would.
When he spoke again, his voice was loud enough to rise above the indistinct murmur of the congregation. “She was taken from us, so young, so soon.” His eyes swept around those present. “Brought down by creatures of the dark.”
Tension rippled through the room, the uneasy murmurs growing like the rustle of pages in a library.
“Murdered.”
I sank lower in my seat and shivered despite the warm temperature, while Ms. Bates’s knitting happily clacked away in front of me. I’d heard about the fae woman who had been killed. Every Marked and Unmarked had heardabout it. Found in the woods, dead, bitten by some creature. The killer still hadn’t been apprehended.
“And in such a bleak time shall we not band together to seek justice and bring down those sinister souls who wish our end?” Collins’s thin, angry gaze landed on the pew where my family sat. “Mark my words, the death of a fae is not taken lightly. We will have justice. The wicked will pay.”
Chapter 2
Ifanyonecouldwieldreligious condemnation like a bullwhip, it was Pastor Collins. I sat in my pew, cheeks burning. He didn’t always speak with such fire and brimstone, but given the fae woman’s death, I should have expected these sentiments. And rightfully so. If some werewolf or vampire was to blame, they should be condemned and banned.
A few fae cast glances our way. Although witches weren’t illegal like werewolves and vampires, society didn’t fully accept them. The Bennets, after all, were the only witches in the room. Half-witches. Other thanMom, who was a full witch, us sisters were half-fae witches.
The speech continued on just as intensely, and by the end, my sisters and I were staring at our hands in our laps. Religious figures depicted in the stained-glass windows stared at us with accusing eyes, while Ms. Bates sat there with a smile on her face, nodding as she knitted away at her mittens. Though she didn’t look it, she was at least four hundred years old. After so many times attending church, I wondered how much she listened to the sermons, or if the Sundays had simply started to blend together.
“Well, that was a bit overdone.” Kitty tucked her phone into her pocket after the sermon ended.
“I knew I shouldn’t have come.” Lizzy glared back at a passing couple who cast dirty glances in our direction.
“They’re only mad because of the fae woman that was killed,” Jane said. “I’m certain things will calm down in time.”
“A witch didn’t kill her, Jane. Everyone knows it was a full moon. And considering how and where they found her, a werewolf was most likely the culprit,” Lizzysnapped, albeit quietly. “Still, it would be best to wait for more evidence to be sure. Despite that, everyone treats us as ifweput the knife to the girl’s throat.”
“We aren’t just witches, though,” I murmured in response. “We are witches who have tainted the blood of the fae.” Our very existence darkened the brightness of the sun.
Lizzy made a disgruntled noise.
Mom looked around at the angry stares, wringing her hands. “Oh, that Mr. Collins, giving such a nonsensical sermon. Doesn’t he have any compassion for my poor nerves? And that is silly, Mary.” She forced a smile and nodded to a passing fae couple. “My daughters are just as good as anyone here. We’ll hold our heads high, do you understand? Jane is right, this will blow over soon.”
And as if to save us from our dismay, who should walk up but Charles Bingley? He edged his way through worn wooden pews. His Darcy shadow was nowhere to be seen, having left already. Darcy’s questionable dealings with a lesser fae named Wickham fueled recent gossip spreading through the town, no doubt causing his quick departure.
“Hello, Mrs. Bennet, everyone, Jane.” Charles’s smitten smile grew wider when he beheld her shy grin. “I hope you’re having a good day.”
“Mr. Bingley, how wonderful to see you,” Mom said, the worry lines disappearing in a flash. “Wearehaving a good day now that you’re here. Your presence lights up this whole dreary chapel. Doesn’t it, Jane?”
