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“Order up,” called Pedro.
Em turned to the order window and deftly turned and set a bag with the aromas of the two sandwiches clashing before me.
“It’s really best if you don’t come around here for awhile.”
I nodded. It stung being ostracized from another place, and it felt like my world was getting smaller by the day.
“Yeah, okay,” I finally managed, dropping my gaze to my lap.
“And watch out for the pack, Len. They want blood now. They won’t be holding back.”
I scrubbed my face, feeling a little moisture pool at the corners of my eyes.
“For what it’s worth, what happened to Peta—”
“Don’t Len. If it wasn’t your fault, then it wasn’t. More than one pack member told them they shouldn’t go on patrol together until the pup got born.”
I bit my lip, because in one small measure, it was my fault, or rather the thing in my chest.
“You better go now,” said Emily.
“Thanks, Em, for everything. How much do I owe you.”
“Forget it.”
For some reason, her voice sounded as if she delivered a death row prisoner’s last meal.
The door opened and a late crowd rolled in, and surrounded by half-drunk, laughing couples and groups of friends, I take this as my cue. I grabbed the bag and walked out in the humid Louisiana night, not sure where I would go now, so I just walked until I came upon a little park. There on a bench, under a lamppost, I sat and considered eating my food.
Then I decided to check my phone, I’ve got a bunch of missed texts from Thorn.
Thorn: It’s time to remove the Hand.
Thorn: You can’t wait for another full moon, so we’ll get the ignitor for the ritual from somewhere else.
Thorn: Tomorrow, dusk.
Thorn: Bring all the stones.
A few minutes later, he added:
Thorn: There’s an abandoned church on Old Thomas Road. Mary of the Sacred Heart. Meet me there by sunset. Don’t tell anyone. Not even your witch.
Did he see my little trip down predator lane earlier and move up his plans to keep me from being a mess he has to clean up later? Then there's the possibility that he has more nefarious schemes, which is why I'm going alone.
But this is real life, and I'm no virgin, and Thorn isn't some storybook dark lord I have to swear my allegiance to. I dug into my food with relish, my stomach alternately complaining at me for eating too fast and growling like I'd neglected it for years.
So, this is the aftermath for shifters. I’m glad I didn’t have to hunt for my dinner.
I looked up Sacred Heart. The church is abandoned all right. According to the ghouls on the internet, it's defiled, and a place for dark rites and summoning demons.
Made sense.
I text Thorn back in the affirmative and read more about the church. The site of murders, ritualistic sacrifices, and all manner of evil (for which there are no corresponding police or news reports, mind you), Sacred Heart is the only abandoned church in the area.
Giving the stories their pound of salt, it still makes sense that unholy ground is the place to do a demon stone-sucking ritual. It leaves me with another question I'm still pondering as I start on the peanut butter pie that Emily left at my elbow the last time she swung by the table.
With all these stories online and warnings about how dangerous and terrifying Sacred Heart is, how will we keep the teenagers away long enough to do the ritual?
