Page 86 of Off the Rails

Until his eyes landed on me.

Descending the steps, The Messenger stopped speaking and kept his gaze trained on me. The cameraman began to follow him. But a quick bark from the bearded prophet was enough to stop him in his tracks. “Stay.”

First, he moved hesitantly. As his speed picked up, I turned to look over my shoulder.

He must recognize someone behind me.

But there was no one behind me: just my two Freaks to either side of me and Cyrus up ahead. The two at my flank had creased brows as they watched the robed man hurry toward us. Cyrus turned to look behind her, meeting my eyes with her dark abyss.

The gathered crowd watched The Messenger as he quickly crossed the busy road, cars stopping for him in a matter of seconds.

A smile took over his face as he held out his arms. “Tess!”

I recognized his voice now, no longer carrying over yards of space. The last time I saw him, he still had the crackling voice of a teenager who hadn’t finished puberty. But this was him. A grown man.

A purported prophet.

“Rubin?”

48

BLADE

Before a word left Tess’ lips, I knew this guy was bad fucking news.

He charged through the crowd, reaching desperately for our treasure. I’d be damned if he laid a finger on her, though. Without a word, the three of us stepped in front of Tess, forming a wall that should have told him to fuck off.

But he just kept pushing closer, calling her name.

Hot rage rolled through my veins. I was desperate for an excuse to punch him. Just the way he was looking at Tess was reason enough to take his eyes.

Won’t be able to protect her if I catch a charge, though.

It wasn’t until he was right in front of us that his wistful gaze tore away from her. He blinked like he was waking from a dream, but his gaze quickly shifted to assess the obstruction between him and his target.

“What do you want, creep?” Cyrus growled. Her voice dripped with venom as his eyes shifted to her. For a moment, some dark thought flickered behind his eyes. But as he scanned Nash and I, any animosity was quickly replaced with a tight, simpering smile.

“Not to worry, strangers.” He lifted his hands wide, “I am but a humble Messenger of His Word. I mean no harm to my sweet Tess.”

“Fucking Christ,” I groaned. I hadn’t fully processed Tess’ words until the fucker was standing in front of me, but now that I could smell his bad breath myself, his identity was perfectly clear.

This is The Messenger?

The years, the beard, and the shitty quality of his livestreams did a lot to disguise him, but from the look on the others’ faces, I knew it was him.

Rubin. The snivelling, god-obsessed little weirdo from Heirs of Promise. The one who’d been obsessed with Tess from the moment she walked into that god-forsaken place.

He’d followed her around back then like a shadow, but he was little more than the shit on her shoe. I was never sure why she didn’t tell him to just fuck off. I’d had half a mind to step in and do it for her.

But she was too sweet — or too scared — to stand up for herself then. Who could blame her? Heirs of Promise’s brand of Christianity promoted subservience to men, and Tess’ young age didn’t make her an exception to their expectations.

And while those days were long behind us, old habits died hard.

Rubin was practically vibrating, watching her hungrily for some drop of affection he could latch onto. And seeing her shrink under his fervent gaze was enough to make my blood boil. Especially now that I’d seen the fiery edge she’d brought with her into Feverpoint.

“Hey Rubin…” Her eyes flicked nervously from his creepy stare to the ground.

The corner of his mouth twitched as he glanced over his shoulder. “Oh, I um…. No one calls me that anymore.”