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Noa’s face blanched, and her blood heated with fury as one of the twin priests who had killed her family stepped over Diel, holding a taser. She could never tell them apart. Even through the disabling volts racking his body, Diel’s blue eyes found hers, and Noa shook, shook so hard she had to grit her teeth to keep herself together.
She began to scream. She screamed as she struggled against the priests holding her. She kicked, she bit and she fought. Fought for the man on the floor, the man she loved, the one she had vowed to avenge. Diel’s brothers fought too, battling to break free from their captors. One brother broke away and reached Diel’s prone body, only to be wrenched back and tackled to the ground.
“I said enough!” Auguste commanded again. Noa realized the brother who had gone to help Diel was Sela; she recognized the deep brown of his eyes. Sela was brought to his feet by the twin priests. His hood and face covering were still in place. But Auguste’s head tilted to the side as he stared at Sela’s eyes.
Then Auguste was crossing the room in slow and controlled steps. Noa fought back a guttural scream as the boy in the collar was taken to another room. His slim arm reached out for Noa as he disappeared from sight, his blue eyes racked with pain. A machete through her chest would have hurt less. All the fight she had in her bones was turning to vapor.
Diel lay still on the ground, and a thick numbness traveled through Noa’s body. It was as if she was being taken out of the situation by her very own inner monster, becoming detached from reality. She wanted to crawl on the ground beside Diel and close her eyes as she breathed him in. She wanted to curl into his chest and have his strong arms hold her and never let go.
She wanted to be anywhere but here right now.
Auguste stopped in front of Sela. His nostrils flared as he reached up to remove Sela’s hood. Sela’s long dark hair came into view. Then Auguste removed Sela’s face covering. There were quiet gasps of shock from other priests as the entirety of Sela’s face was revealed—a face remarkably similar to their Witch Finder General’s.
Auguste smiled coldly. “Hello, brother.”
Sela’s face reddened and, still immobilized by the twins, he spat in Auguste’s face. Auguste closed his eyes and measuredly wiped his cheek. When he opened his eyes, his expression darkened. Like a snake, his hand whipped forward and took hold of Sela’s cheeks, fingernails digging into his brother’s flesh. Diel made an enraged, strangled sound on the floor, and two priests lifted him up and restrained him. Noa met his eyes as he sagged in their hold. She seethed so much she was shaking. She wanted to kill the priests. All of them. She wanted to fucking end them all.
“You were always swimming with evil,” Auguste said to Sela. Auguste looked at the priests holding Noa’s sisters and the Fallen, and he nodded. One by one the priests ripped back their hoods and lowered their face coverings. Auguste’s face lit with glory as his eyes fell on them all.
Auguste smiled at Noa. “Witch,” he spat. Auguste pushed Sela’s head back as he released him; Sela stumbled a little until he was righted by the twin priests. Auguste walked before them all, his black robes billowing behind him. “The Fallen and the Coven all now in my hands. Sinners who managed to escape.” Auguste’s grin was wide as he spread his arms. “But the Lord has brought you all back home.” Noa could detect the simmering glee in his tone. She could almost feel the pride at his victory filling the room. Auguste lowered his arms. “Father Quinn will be more than happy about this.”
“Father Quinn’s alive?” Gabriel had gone white as a sheet. Auguste snapped his head Gabriel’s way and walked toward him. Every one of the Fallen tensed, as if they would all lay down their lives to protect their older brother.
“Gabriel.” Auguste shook his head in disgust. “The potential you once had. Until you succumbed to evil and followed in the damned path of your sinful brother.”
But Gabriel didn’t bow his head in shame at Auguste’s slights. Instead, the only true, pious priest in the room lifted his chin high. “I walk on the path of righteousness, Auguste. My conscience is clear.”
Auguste laughed in his face, mocking and cold. He ran his finger down the length of Gabriel’s cheek. Michael thrashed to get free, his mouth open and his fangs fully exposed as he hissed at Auguste. His fangs were coated in blood, as were the sharp claws on his fingertips.
“Ah, Michael, speak of the devil,” Auguste said. “Uriel, Barachiel, Raphael.” Then Auguste turned to Diel. Noa tensed as Auguste’s attention fell on the man she loved more than her own life. “Jegudiel.” He turned back to Noa’s sisters. “And my hand-picked coven of witches, my unrepentant devil-born heretics safely back in your Witch Finder’s holy embrace.”
