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PROLOGUE
Dayton had been kneeling in the confessional for no more than thirty seconds and a stiffness had overtaken his knees. He wasn’t a regular attendee of the place of worship, but he forced himself to pay a visit to St. James every Christmas Eve. Breathing in the cold air, the heavy incense burning in the altar, Dayton was greeted by flashes of his trivial, adolescent confessions. What he would have given to restore that innocence and erase the man he’d become.
The monster.
The consequences of his sins marked his cheek and collarbone. The heart beating in his chest, its absence of feeling, he no longer recognized as his own.
He signed the cross in haste. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. My last confession was one year ago on this day.”
“Confess your sins, son. I’m afraid you’ll have to make it quick. Introductory Rites will begin shortly.”
“I ask only for a moment of your time, Father. I’ve come before you to seek forgiveness for the ones I’ve used, deceived, and exploited. I believe my deception has brought undue suffering onto others, and I am remorseful for any pain, real or imagined, I have undoubtedly inflicted upon them. I am sorry for these and all my sins.”
“Give to someone what you have refused these anonymous others. Deceive them not, for your chance to truly prove your penance, not only to our Father in Heaven but to yourself, lies in your honesty. You may pray.”
“Lord Jesus Christ, you are the Lamb of God. You take away the sins of the world. Through the grace of the Holy Spirit restore me to friendship with your Father, cleanse me from every stain of sin in the blood you shed for me, and raise me to new life for the glory of your name.”
Dayton was silent as the priest administered his prayer of absolution. He wished their exchange would’ve gone on the rest of the night, admissions and prayers whispered back and forth through the latticework.
It pained him to think of returning home. Another Christmas alone with the weight of all he had done and the fear of whatever destruction lay ahead.
A chill laced the air in the nave of St. James that had nothing to do with the Oregonian winter storm raging beyond the church’s walls.
Kenna stole a seat along the third pew from the entrance, alone, where she hoped to sit through midnight Mass undisturbed. The Christmas Eve service was the closest she came to being home for the holidays.
Rows of votive candles flickered to life as people lit them before finding their seats. Boys and girls clad in flowing gowns swept in to populate the choir, their piercing voices breaking into Gabriel’s Message no sooner than they had assumed their positions. She sang the carol, quietly under her breath, imbued with a deep sense of peace at its familiarity. Watching the children perform tugged at Kenna’s heart. She ached for the chance to see her sisters, but a trip to New York was a luxury neither her finances nor psyche could afford.
A slow, horrid creak tore her attention from the choir. Her pulse leveled out upon identifying its source. A towering man in an overcoat emerged from the confessional.
For a fractional moment, their eyes met.
Menacing black orbs burned holes into her skin all the way across the room. A sensation of strangulation overtook Kenna, hand flying to her neck while her chest compressed to the brink of concavity.
The dark-haired man held a match to one of the burning candles and ignited one that was unlit. It did not burn for long before he snuffed it out and hurried up the aisle, hands burrowed in his coat pockets, escaping into the landscape of the snowy Christmas night.
1
NINTH CIRCLE
Alex
Bella
Charlee
Dakota
Erin
Freya
Giselle
Harmony
Ivy
Jasmine
