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Man, she’s like a dog with a damn bone. Still smiling, I pull out a note and hand it to her.
“In the event I was asked, I’m getting supplies for Father Levi and his new bride,” I report.
Opening the note, she skims it with a nod. “But there’s one thing I don’t understand. Why isn’t Father Levi going grocery shopping instead? Last time I saw him, he was a hale, virile, young man,” the nun complains.
Struggling not to burst out laughing, I swallow hard. Virile? Are you shitting me?
“Yes, Sister. It is because he is a virile man, with a new wife, that I’m going shopping for him,” I explain, heavily accentuating the innuendo.
Sister Mary Anne stares at me before she turns scarlet. “Young man,” she gasps.
“I’m simply doing my mentor and professor a favor, which you are keeping me from, Sister. Now, if that’s all, goodbye,” I tell her, quickly getting into the car and driving off before she can say anything else.
Making sure to do the speed limit, I leave the gates of the Academy behind. The GPS takes me forty minutes away to a warehouse district. It’s depressing and run down, to be honest. Careful to look at where I’m parking, I pocket the knife and leave behind the bag.
Keeping to the growing shadows, as winter’s shorter days are working in my favor, I walk quickly to the doors of the warehouse. Choosing a different entrance than where Arthur and his cronies are meeting, I ease my way in.
Voices further in are what I carefully follow, my eyes bouncing around for anyone that I missed.
“The drop is in two days,” Arthur mutters. “Miss Isa is going to be very angry if you don’t have the inventory you promised her.”
Great, he’s a glorified thug for Isabella, and a shit person who enjoys hurting women. The auction that’s supposed to be happening turns my stomach, and I wish I could save those girls. Unfortunately, there’s only so much that I’m able to do.
“No, no. Tell Miss Isa that everything will be fine, and we will do our part,” the man in front of him says, holding his hands up to placate.
Arthur huffs but nods, shooing them away. “Go then, do not let the boss lady down,” he growls.
The men leave, and Arthur turns away from me, lighting up a cigarette. I’ve always been quiet and able to move in spaces where I’m not meant to be. It’s how I get through the tunnels.
Pulling out the knife, I stay in the shadows, making sure that my own shadow doesn’t give me away. I force myself to move carefully, as I see Arthur pull out his phone. If he needs to check in with someone, it’s better for him to do so before I kill him.
“Hello?” Arthur says, his voice gruff. “Hello, Miss Isa. Yes, the men say that everything is ready, and they swear you’ll have your inventory. Mmhmm, yes. Understood.”
He’s answering questions in rapid fire, as Isabella barks them out, I guess. I attack as he hangs up the phone, beginning to put it away.
Running and jumping on his back, my momentum pushes him down and I stab him quickly and quietly in the neck. As he gurgles, I pin him down to stab him twice in the side.
Standing quickly, I’m happy that I’m not wearing much blood. Cleaning off my knife on the back of his shirt, I step back. The blood is quickly leaving his body though, and I make sure I’m still alone in the warehouse. The last thing I need is to get caught.
My trial completed, I watch as he twitches.
He doesn’t last long, and as soon as he takes his last breath, I’m back out into the night. Hiding in the shadows once more, I walk quickly to the car, keeping my knife hidden.
Now, to beat Jonas to his mark, because there’s no way in hell I’m letting him do this. The darkness already lays on my soul, he doesn’t need to muddy his. I’ll deal with the fall out later.
BASTIAN
Standing outside of St. Peter’s Catholic Church, I chew on my lip as I stare at it. This is where Father Monroe was transferred to last year, after a little boy spoke out about what happened to him. My abuser has been within a fifteen minute walk while I’ve been at Holy Cross.
Every time I come into town with Jonas and Ash, I have carefully avoided this church like my life depended on it. I’m too old for his tastes now, but I’ve had problems with certain men in authority touching me ever since.
Quietly entering the church, I walk through the back halls to his office. My folder stated that he was working here right now, and I hope he doesn’t have anyone with him. Taking a deep breath, I knock on the door.
“Who is it?” Father Monroe asks, and I close my eyes against the memories.
“I’m here to ask for counsel,” I tell him. “I have some important decisions to make, and I wanted to pray on them with you.”
Father Monroe never paid attention to who was part of his congregation, outside of the smaller male children, which made sense. I wish I hadn’t caught his eye though, because my father never looked at me the same again.
