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Sick with worry, she couldn’t bring herself to meet Christian’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you?”
“Yes.” Twin tears fell and she wiped her eyes. “I’m new at all of this. I was just acting out of instinct. I only wanted to help.”
“You have a very big heart, pintura. I know you meant no harm.”
She pushed away more tears. “How do you do it? How do stand by while innocent people die, knowing you could help?”
“We must protect our own.”
Even knowing everything he just explained and regretting that she put The Order in danger, she couldn’t fully regret her actions. If put in the same situation again, she might take the same risks. “What will they do to me?”
“The punishment for exposure is one hundred lashings per witness.”
His words knocked the wind out of her. They were going to whip her?
“No one will touch you, Delilah. I won’t allow it.”
“But…you said—”
“I’ll take your punishment. You’re my responsibility.”
“Christian, no—”
“You don’t have a say in this.” The wind picked up and rain pelted the wood planks under the awning. “You need to feed. It’s time to go inside.”
The house was dark, and he made no attempt to light the candles. They each washed and changed into fresh clothes, because Christian said they needed to return to the Safe House right away to speak to the bishop about what happened.
“Why do we have to tell anyone?” she asked, fearful of what other consequences might come.
“Because we do not bear false witness. Deceit leads to darkness. We live in the light and speak the truth, even when we are afraid of what will come.”
She fixed her braids and met him downstairs. Her body wavered as she approached the stairs. He hadn’t fed her while they were in the bedroom, and she worried he’d forgotten about her, until she found him in the kitchen, emptying his vein over a tall glass.
“What are you doing?”
“You need to feed.”
She stared at the glass. “Why are you—”
“This is what I’m offering. I suggest you drink it.” He licked the slice on his wrist shut and turned his back on her.
His disappointment slayed her. A lump formed in her throat, and her hand trembled as she lifted the glass. Her fangs extended at the first whiff of his blood, only to clank against the glass. She struggled to swallow it all down with her throat so tight, but she managed.
When she set the empty glass on the table, he turned and faced her again. “It’s raining, so we’ll take the carriage.”
He walked out of the kitchen without touching her. She bowed her head and swallowed back the urge to cry.
Voluntarily walking out the front door was one of the most difficult steps she’d ever taken in her life. Last week this house was a cage. But today it was her sanctuary, and she didn’t want to leave.
Wind whipped through the trees as rain pelted the carriage. Christian waited under an umbrella, leaving her to take that first step on her own.
Drawing in a galvanizing breath, she trudged into the mud and quickly climbed into the carriage. He followed, closing the umbrella and taking up the reins. His hand briefly touched her knee but then quickly disappeared.
The rattle of rain hitting the flat roof of the carriage muffled all other sound. The roads were slick and dark. Taper candles filled every window of the bishop’s house, making it shine brighter than all the rest.
“Wait here,” Christian said as he parked the carriage and walked the horse into the shelter of the stables. When he returned, she was shivering with fear. He held out his hand to her. “I’ll do the talking.”
Her hand slipped into his and he squeezed her fingers with added reassurance. Larissa opened the door, her daughter Moriah perched on her hip. “Brother Christian.”
“Good evening, Sister Larissa. We need to speak to the bishop.”
She glanced at Delilah and flinched, no doubt reading her mind and seeing her crimes first hand. No wonder they had to tell the truth. She was a liability in every sense of the word.
“Of course. Come in.”
The inside of the house looked completely different than it had at service that morning. The benches had all been removed and ordinary furniture filled the den. They stood in silence while Larissa went to get her husband. She was grateful Christian didn’t let go of her hand.
“Christian,” the bishop greeted without directly addressing her. “What brings you—”
That quickly he understood. Delilah bowed her head in shame, and Christian’s hand tightened around hers.
“Let’s go into my office.”
They followed the bishop to a small room off of a long wing annexed to the back of the house. Braided rugs and doilies didn’t adorn any of the furniture in this area. The benches were plain, and biblical verses written in German rotunda hung on every wall.
