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She was right, he did. He was naked from the waist down, his dick was engorged, he had crusted blood on his nose, and the gaping wounds on the back of his feet rested squarely in the dirt.

“Let’s bury him and get our asses to church,” Grimm said.

As he and Bryce got busy filling the grave with dirt, Cobra went to drag the delegates to where we were.

“You need to relax. You know, the more you panic, the quicker you’ll use up all your air,” Romero explained as if he were speaking to a child. He tossed a cellular I hadn’t seen before down on Marco’s chest and grinned. “Tell David I said hello.”

I shook my head and smiled. He knew full well that call was going to go unanswered. Marco still had a gag in his mouth and his arms were left bound. He turned his head left and right, yelling up at us, trying to shift from beneath his Vicky’s body.

“You know how paranoid he’s going to get?” I laughed just thinking about the look on David’s face when he couldn’t get hold of Marco.

“I know.” Romero smirked, crouching down so he could look Marco in the eyes.“In just a few minutes, all your open orifices are going to be filled with dirt. It’s going to crush your chest and your ribs. You won’t be able to see, and you won’t be able to breathe. You won’t even be able to move. You’re going to suffocate.” He titled his head and grinned. “Slowly.”

I rested my cheek on his shoulder and watched each mound of dirt bury Marco a little more. It was a small victory.

Whatever was lurking beneath my surface was far from satisfied. She didn’t want slow, methodical torture. She hungered for fast, spur of the moment brutality. And I was going to find a way to give it to her.

“How the hell are we going to get in there?” I studied Jericho, popping another tortilla chip in my mouth from the bag I’d taken from Marco’s.

“I can’t believe this place still exists,” Grimm commented, rubbing his beard.

Jericho was supposed to have been torn down before I’d ever been born. The church was more like a fortress. It looked ancient.

There were heavy padlocked chains in the shape of an X across the large double doors, and the windows were barred.

“I think they learned their lesson about windows,” I mused, thinking back on how easy the acolytes had broken out the windows from the last church we showed up at.

Speaking of acolytes, I could see a few of the ones Romero had called on the other side of the property, which meant somewhere behind us were more.

“Where do they go when they’re not with you?” Arlen asked him.

“I have the entire Badlands to keep track of. Who do you think helps shit stay in running order? Contrary to what you believe, I usually don’t run around after fucking bishops or spend my every waking moment thinking of David. I do have an actual life. All three of us do.”

“Not to mention this small thing called war that’s going on. Who do you think’s been dropping delegates and outliers left and right as we speak?” Cobra added when no one said anything.

“So they’re like your employees.”

“Close, but no,” Grimm cut in, stealing a handful of chips from my bag.

Cobra sighed and waved his hand at Romero. “The devil is king here. The Badlands is his kingdom. The crazy as fuck blonde beside him is his queen, and all the insane fuckers wearing masks? They’re hell’s army.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. And you’re the greatest, his best friend, and simply just fuckin amazing, while Grimm’s the dark and broody as hell Reaper, collector of souls,” she deadpanned.

“I don’t fucking brood,” Grimm scoffed at the same time Cobra said, “You think I’m amazing?”

He grinned, placing a hand over his heart. I half-listened to their conversation, eyeing Jericho for another entrance.

“The back of the church has a crawlspace that leads to the wine cellar right by the rear doors,” Bryce said out of the blue.

I’d almost forgotten he was with us. The man didn’t go out of his way to say anything to anyone.

“He’s right, there is,” Romero confirmed, running a hand over his chin. He didn’t question how Bryce could possibly know that, so I assumed there was another untold story there.

“And if this door is chained up, the rear isn’t,” I concluded, staring in that direction with a frown. This place was old as dirt; I could only begin to imagine what underneath it looked like. Dhal chose that moment to open her fucking mouth. I hadn’t forgotten she was standing there but I was petty enough not to acknowledge her.

“If this crawlspace is limited on size, we should probab

ly send the smallest person here in there.” She made it sound as if that idea wasn’t appealing to her.