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The man of the cloth wanted her. I stepped closer, invading their space as they spoke. I felt like a jealous dog warding off a stranger.
I shook the Deacon’s hand when he offered it, finding it slightly cold. I ran hot.
“Come in, come in. I was just getting started in the kitchen,” he said politely, his voice reminding me of something, though I wasn’t sure what.
“You cook?” I asked, my voice deeper than I registered as normal.
“Yes,” the Deacon replied warmly. “I may not have sight, but smell and taste are the most important part of cooking. And I have no one to cook for, not since Father Dodson passed. So this will be nice.”
Though stately and beautiful on the exterior, the mansion held little magic for me once I entered. Maybe Sorina’s home had spoiled me, but the mansion didn’t appear to belong to anyone. The Deacon’s scent was everywhere, but faint, as if he only existed in the home in passing. I sniffed the air again, rubbing my nose, feigning allergies.
I could smell his scent, more potent, somewhere deeper inside.
“Where’s your restroom?” I asked as Valerie and the Deacon walked down a hallway.
The Deacon turned to me. “Down that hall, to the right.”
I walked down the hall, their voices growing smaller as I moved past the bathroom. When I entered the dimly lit room with high ceilings, the scent of the Deacon grew stronger. The room was round, and at the end was a pew. It was a tiny church with stained glass windows surrounding the circling wall.
I cleared my throat and marveled at the echo of it.
It was beautiful and dark, frightening when you had a past like mine.Thiswas his home. This place. A framed photo of Jesus stared back at me, and I chilled. I’d seen pictures and crosses depicting the likeness of the son of God very little since leaving the ranch. I averted my gaze when he came into view, shoving my past to the dark like a dirty secret. Markus had his own image of his savior. Long hair, similar to the commercially sold figure. But his eyes were always weeping red and gouged out.
Dark.
The Jesus on the wall staring at me in that small, round church looked like Markus’s Jesus. The eyes were closed, but the dark shadow on the cheeks resembled blood. It looked like the Deacon as well. I didn’t feel well surround by the walls that circled me, and I felt someone watching me. I closed my eyes, certain it was the memory of Markus. But when I turned around, I jumped out of my skin at the sight of the Deacon. His scent was so strong in the space I hadn’t felt him behind me.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked, crossing his arms.
“Uh, yeah. Sorry, I know you told me where the restroom was, but I saw the light. I couldn’t help myself.” The lie fell out. No light pulled me, just his scent.
“Don’t apologize for being drawn to this place. I am drawn to it often.”
I rolled my eyes, grateful he couldn’t see it.
He cocked his head in response, as if he had. “I’m going to get back to cooking. Stay in here as long as you’d like, Nicholas.”
I didn’t want to stay in the church, but I did, waiting for him to be out of sight. The sound of my name from his mouth sounded false, like he was telling me a lie. When he was gone, I turned back to the circle room, shoving my hands in my pockets. Kyrie said the Deacon’s flock was a small congregation, the townspeople preferring the Baptist services to the old building on the hill.
It was all the same to me. Baptist, Christian, Catholic. No matter what type of believer, they all worshipped the same imaginary man in the sky. They all used him to justify their cruelty, their rape, their murder, their incestuous pairings.
When I closed my eyes, I could see her, the woman with the wild blonde hair, the pale man at her side. The liberators, the ones with the match. They burned the ranch to the ground, and Valerie and I had been the only ones to escape.
The girl had looked like a witch. It was the only word that came to mind when I remembered her.
But witches didn’t exist. Neither did the vampires that Markus called God.
I didn’t believe it there. Didn’t buy into the horror sold. But here, here in Hart Hollow, I felt something. Some ominous cloud hovering around me. The woods beyond the pond where Sorina and I swam flashed in my mind, and I shook it away.
I knew who the monsters were in this world.
Men.
Us.
The women who touched me.
I left the Deacon’s small church, closing the door behind me. Closing his scent off, and something sweeter.
