Life Cycle (27 page)
Don’t leave.
Her eyes rose to his immediately as if she’d heard
his thought. Her face was a mixture of hope, pain, and longing. He
quickly dropped his gaze. He knew that look. With his face and
physique he’d been the object of many female sexual desires. This
woman was fire.
He tried to ignore her and focus on the rite, the
guilt curling inside him that he wasn’t fully present for what was
supposed to be Holy Communion. Hadrian passed through the rest of
the service by habit, the part of his brain familiar with the
exercise taking control while he waited for it to be over.
The midnight service was lonely. There was no choir
or other participants, just him, offering a scaled-down version of
the Mass for those who felt more comfortable in the dark. These
were the people who needed him the most, and yet he didn’t know who
was worth saving, who could change and find redemption and who
couldn’t.
He’d grown weary of having faith in people, praying
for them and hoping they’d change, only to see them fall further,
many dying in despair, leaving the world worse than when they’d
entered it. It was wrong to think such things, but he couldn’t help
it. He’d seen too much—both human and otherworldly. He could no
longer look at the world as the fresh-faced youth entering the
priesthood. That had only been five years ago when he’d had a brief
mystical experience, his own Damascus Road. But it felt like
forever, like he’d aged centuries. He was far too jaded for
thirty-five.
Like every priest initiated into the mysteries of the
Catholic Church, he knew the score about demons. He knew they were
out there, flesh and blood beings who could compel and work their
dark magic. At times, as he looked out at the assembled congregants
at the midnight service, wondering if there might be one hiding
among the flock. But no, they couldn’t get inside a church—not
standard demons anyway. Whatever else may lurk out there amongst
the shadows, Hadrian wasn’t sure of the rules for them. He didn’t
know where they could go or how they could hide, and felt
ill-prepared to deal with realities he hadn’t been taught to
handle.
Beyond exorcisms and the knowledge of reincarnation,
dimensions, and the awareness he was in hell—literally—there wasn’t
much else they were encouraged to explore or know a lot about.
They’d been charged with keeping the flock in the dark about these
matters and guiding them to do the best they could in life. Hadrian
often wondered what other secrets were hidden in the higher levels
of the Church. What did bishops and archbishops know? What did the
Holy See know?
Hadrian blinked. The assembled were watching from
their pews with rapt attention, waiting for him to close with the
benediction and blessings of peace upon them. He hurried through
the remainder of the service, then escaped to the back of the
church to greet each individual as they left. He wasn’t surprised
to see the dark angel at the back of the group. Of course
temptation would only visit when all other distractions had exited
the building. Life would be too easy otherwise.
He turned his attention back to the front of the
line. A red-headed woman in her early twenties stood before him, a
batch of freckles dancing along her cheeks, skipping her nose
altogether. The innocence in her appearance was a deep
deception.
“Mary, it’s good to see you. I’m glad you could make
it tonight.”
The guilt was plain in her eyes. She danced for men
in a club on the Strip. He hadn’t been there, of course, but he
didn’t doubt some of the other late night parishioners had seen far
more of Mary than he ever would.
“You know how it is,” was all she would offer him in
return.
He nodded and tried to give her the benefit of the
doubt. She’d spoken to him in confession on many occasions, but
still she repeated the same mistakes. It wasn’t charitable, but he
wondered if she was worth saving at all. Would she forever remain
trapped in this loop of confession and regression? Would she ever
transcend it? Did she even want to?
She pulled her hand from his and made her way out the
door. She’d be back in a few months maybe. He sighed and worked his
way through the line, feeling increasing guilt over his pattern of
thought this evening.
He greeted them all: Winos, prostitutes, drug
runners, crime family members, until the line dwindled to
nothing.
The heavy church door echoed as it shut, leaving
Father Hadrian alone with the dark angel. He took her hand,
overwhelmed by how cool it still was after being in the warm church
so long.
“I’m glad you could join us tonight.”
“Thank you for having me,” she said, a brief bit of
color coming into her cheeks. How could one woman seem so dark and
so vulnerable all at once? He simultaneously wanted to hold her in
an embrace and fling her out of the church with an admonition never
to return. Finally, realizing he was still holding her hand, he let
it drop.
“I didn’t catch your name earlier?” His voice rose at
the end, hoping she’d acknowledge the question therein.
She smiled, the shyness leaving her all at once. “I
didn’t throw it.”
Before his eyes she transformed from an uncertain,
vulnerable creature into a femme fatale who could certainly be his
undoing, given time. He pushed that thought away.
The woman laughed. “I’m Angeline.”
So his instincts had been correct on that one. Dark
angel indeed.
“There is a pamphlet on the table beside the front
door with our hours. If you ever need to come to confession or… ”
He faltered. What was he even trying to say? “If you’d like to know
about catechism classes or have any questions about the Church, I’d
be happy to… ”
I’d be happy to continue to stand here, grasping
for vocabulary like a bumbling idiot.
Her finger pressed against his lips to stop his
babbling. He swallowed.
Danger. Danger. Danger.
The
inappropriate action ended as quickly as it had begun. She was no
longer touching him, but he could still feel her finger there,
pressed against his mouth.
For the briefest moment, he’d wanted to suck it
between his lips to taste her skin. Suddenly an image of the dark
angel sprawled across the altar with him on top of her bloomed in
his mind. He took a physical step back to shake the thoughts
free.
“I really must go,” she said after a beat. “You’re
too much temptation.”
He should have called her on her forwardness, but he
couldn’t bring himself to take the light out of her eyes. Her
confidence was mesmerizing; watching it crumble in shame at her
behavior wasn’t something he could bring himself to do. Not after
observing how timid she’d seemed upon entering the church. It was
as if her brief visit had breathed new life into her even though
she’d remained an observer.
“I hope you can stand a new regular,” she said,
“because I’ll be here every week indefinitely.”
God help me.
Perhaps another
of Our Lady of Mercy’s priests could take over the midnight
Mass—someone of stronger constitution. Hadrian found his eyes
raking over her cleavage, pushed up by an old-fashioned evening
gown of sorts. A heavy antique pendant nestled there between her
breasts, drawing his eye. He imagined the heavy weight pressing
there against her chest and wished that weight was his hand, or his
mouth.
When he collected himself and looked up, her eyes
were sharp. Her perception seemed clear and precise, as if she
could read each thought as it tumbled from his mind even before he
could line them up into sentences, ideas, and longings.
Her fingers ran along the edge of the pendant, the
backs of them slowly dragging across her skin. Hadrian struggled
for breath.
She sighed. “All right, I’ll stop tormenting you for
now. You might need the full week to recover. Pick your jaw up off
the floor like a good boy.”
She turned then, her skirts whispering around her as
she glided out of the church, leaving Hadrian speechless, without
even the ability to stop her or chastise her for her behavior.
If you enjoyed this excerpt, please consider picking
up Dark Mercy. Dark Mercy is a novella in the Pretverse that
focuses on Hadrian and the story of his turning.
About the Author
Zoe Winters writes quirky and sometimes dark
paranormal romance. Her favorite colors are rainbow and clear.
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If you enjoyed Life Cycle, check out the other
stories in this world:
Books in the Preternaturals Series:
Blood Lust (book 1)
Save My Soul (book 2)
The Catalyst (book 3)
Available in print, audio book, and ebook.
Preternaturals Shorts:
Cat Fight (a Dayne and Greta Story [Blood Lust])
Dark Mercy (novella)