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I need to reach the end of this aisle.
Despite everything that screamed for me to run away, there was one thing that kept me going.
The brewing warmth within my body that internally begged to be connected to our mate.
That sensation was going haywire and only further nagged me now that I stood in one spot.
Saint’s here. I know he is.
“His aura is all over this place,”Bria noted in seriousness.“Our Dark Lord is definitely here, but there’s an obstacle ahead."
As if the mental acknowledgment triggered the retreating movement of the shadows, I watched in amazement as streams of red light shone down through the various stained-glass windows above and landed right at the center to reveal a single man standing there in wait.
The very man who’d electrocuted me.
I’d barely caught a glimpse of him—the blonde hair and blue eyes only a brief memory before my body was riddled with shocks that landed me in the realms of unconsciousness.
He stood there in a white suit while his short blonde hair and blue eyes made him look like any other Vatican worshipper ready to praise and sing the hymns of their Savior.
Despite his “holy” appearance, I could see beyond that. His aura was powerful and carried a “deadly” essence to it. It was tricky to describe but the vibe was no different from the heaviness one got when their doom was imminent.
This man feels like the epitome of death.
I stood my ground even when my body continued to tremble while I hugged myself impatiently. I wanted to get this over with, and it felt like this was a mere distraction or tactic to lure me into a trap.
Acting vulnerable would give me a hint of an advantage in this case, which was the only reason why I remained in place while my eyes locked upon those spheres of sky blue.
“Willow De Luca,” he boldly began before he gave me a half bow in greeting. “Arthur Sephtis. One of the Vatican High Councillor volunteers.”
I arched an eyebrow in return, knowing my judgemental gaze would simply remind him that I recalled his other disguise back at the club.
With a nervous chuckle that felt fake to my ears, he continued, “I’m sure you’re wondering about the previous meeting with another man named Arthur. Obviously, that man is older and has been with the Vatican for many years. Arthur O’Donald. Many mix us up, but he’s my uncle.”
All I could do was nod my head just slightly as I purposely glanced around.
“I’m sure you got our invitation to arrive here. With everything going on outside, this is certainly uncalled for.” He tried to show some sense of pity in his expression, but it never reached his eyes.
I was sure he underestimated how observant I really was, but I decided to grace him with some knowledge of my own.
“Wouldn’t it be smarter to speak about this in another room?” I offered as I arched an eyebrow yet again. “We’re disturbing those who are in a deep state of prayer. I’m not an expert in the Vatican’s way of worship, but I’m sure it’s rather disrespectful to your Savior to be speaking about business in a place of worship. Especially when you wish for such prayers to reach the heavens and bring salvation to those who are suffering in the midst of the flames throughout NYC.”
“You’re so considerate,Sweet Domino,” he praised with the emphasis on a title I’d never heard before. My expression of pure confusion had to be far too easy to read because he added, “You remind me of a domino. You know, those game pieces with the dots that people enjoy laying out and then pushing a single piece to make the others tumble in response. You’re a trendsetter. Someone who pushes the rest of the world to follow in hasty pursuit of pleasing you.”
He walked toward me then, until he stood right before me and leaned in close to whisper in my ear, “As for the ‘sweet’ part…well, you taste sweet.”
The mere mention of my taste was obviously deliberate, and despite how clear as day his motives were, it didn’t prevent the rumble that shook the very church’s structure. It was like an earthquake and its fury was strong enough to actually make me lose balance.
I fell into chilled arms from behind, but my hand was caught in Arthur’s grasp, leaving me right in the center between frost and fire as the tension in the church spiked immensely in three seconds flat.
“Be careful, Miss De Luca,” Arthur encouraged as his eyes narrowed while his lips lifted in a cunning smile. “With everything happening outside, even the church isn’t completely protected from natural disasters.”
“Why don’t you just stop with this fake bullshit?”The commanding voice of dread came from Blacky as he helped me correct my balance.
I didn’t expect him to still be around, but the grip on my shoulders was no different from a man who held onto what was deemed his—a firm hold that wouldn’t allow just anyone to steal what he currently held dear.
“A mere servant shouldn’t interfere when two royals are speaking,” Arthur hummed delightedly, but the sound didn’t give me happy vibes in the slightest.
Competition.
