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“Sorry!” Thor sings out, carrying Nina out of the church over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift. She continues to scream her accusations until the door closes behind them and we can hear them no more.
“Well,” I say. “Shall we sing the next hymn?”
When I return home from the service, which is much later than usual thanks to the need to discuss the disturbing events of the day with the congregation, I am not in a good mood.
“What is the point of having a dozen of you bastards here if she’s left to roam loose and break into the church screaming her head off about murder?”
The brothers in the dining room, which has become a sort of milling area for everybody, turn and look at me with blank expressions that indicate they have no idea what I am talking about whatsoever. I suppress the urge to beat the hell out of every single one of them.
“Where’s Thor?”
“I don’t know.”
“Let me make this clear. If you want to inhabit my ancestral home, you have one job. And that is knowing where the fuck Nina is and ensuring wherever that is not somewhere fucking stupid.”
Cosmos clears his throat. “You made it fairly clear that you do not want us to touch her, or to have anything to do with her.”
“Then what are you doing here? Not training. Unless you’re all practicing for poker night in Hell.”
“Come on, boys,” Cosmos says, getting up. “Let’s get back to it.”
“No. Don't get back to it. Get back to guarding the vessel of angel blood we’re all allegedly so interested in keeping safe.”
Cosmos approaches me with a twisted smile on his face.
“You know, this may be your home, and you may have some seniority, but we’re here because you fucked up,” he says, pushing two fingers to my chest. “So cool it on the lecturing. None of us have killed a kid lately.”
That did not improve my mood one bit. I know I’m a fucking asshole. It was easier to be an asshole alone. I didn't have all these other assholes reflecting my shortcomings back at me constantly, making me feel bad for the actions I've undertaken.
I have to address this with Nina directly. As insane as she is appearing to be, what she did today was calculated. She knows exactly what she is doing, and that means she can be reasoned with, and if not reasoned with, threatened.
“What do you want, murderer?”
She’s so full of righteous indignation she doesn’t even flinch as I stride toward her. Two forces of fury are about to come head-to-head, and there is no telling what will happen next. Unless, of course, I take responsibility as the sane and dominant partner in this relationship.
“Listen to me.” I clutch her chin and trap her face. “Jonah is dead. He deserved to be killed. You will never believe this, and I will not try to convince you because I do not enjoy wasting my time. But I will tell you this. If you ever, and I do mean ever interrupt my service again, I will whip you so ferociously you will wish you were dead too.”
Her pretty eyes brim with tears. “I already wish that. Destroy me, Bryn. Kill me too. Turn me back into the dirt I came from. Let me be with my family.”
I have misjudged my threat. I have underestimated her misery. I thought she wanted revenge, and perhaps that was part of the reason. But the stronger, more important motivator was clearly to provoke me into doing the same to her.
She is trying to use me as a gun pointed at her sweet head. She has no idea how I worship her, how I erased Jonah from the planet for posing a threat to her. I will do anything to keep her safe, and she will never be in danger with me, no matter what she does.
I release her.
“All you have achieved is making yourself a spectacle. You can act out all you like, Nina. But I am no longer alone in handling you. There are twelve other men out there also dedicated to keeping you in one piece. So get comfortable, little one, because you're going to be here for a while.”
“I would push you out of the window if you weren't such a huge piece of shit.”
Sassy. Very sassy. She must be feeling better.
I leave her to her own devices. I could punish her, but I think my words will rankle sufficiently. She is not stupid. There is some part of her that may never emerge for me that nevertheless knows her brother deserved what he got.
“I would speak with you, Bryn.”
I have avoided Steven for good reason. He has an unpleasant habit of being accurate in ways one would rather he was not.
“I heard your arguments with various inhabitants of the abbey. I do not wish to have another argument, but I do think you need to talk.”
