Page 28

“Look at this,” I said, pointing to the screen when Sean finished his call. “'Experience the divine through ancient prayers rediscovered.' Says here Brother Michael brought 'sacred texts recently uncovered in a monastery in Northern Turkey.'”

Sean leaned in, squinting at the small print, his shoulder pressing against mine. “You think our victims went to this thing?”

“I'd bet my life on it.” I pulled up an attendance list Skye had sent from the church records, obtained through means I didn't want to know about. “Look at the date—exactly one day before Reeves started posting all that religious content, three days before Daniels took out a loan to donate to the church.”

“Eight others who might be next on the chopping block,” Sean finished, straightening up, already reaching for his phone again.

While he called Skye back with this new information, I stared at the grainy photo of Brother Michael on the church website. Something about his face seemed off—his eyes too intense, his smile not quite reaching them, an asymmetry to his features that was subtle but jarring.

I closed my eyes, trying to concentrate, to access memories that felt just out of reach. The mark burned hotter now, responding to something in the investigation, a painful throbbing that matched my elevated heartbeat. The symbol from the prayer book floated behind my eyelids, that stylized eye surrounded by wings or flames.

And then it clicked. The ancient texts from Northern Turkey. The burned-out eyes. The systematic targeting of the devout.

“Northern Turkey,” I said suddenly, my voice cutting through Sean's phone conversation. He held up a finger, finishing with Skye before turning to me.

“What about it?”

“That's not just any monastery region. That's where ancient entities were first bound.” I pulled up ancient religious texts on my laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard. “The Book of Enoch, the Grigori legends. Ancient beings sent to observe humanity but who began to interfere, to teach forbidden knowledge.”

Sean moved closer, his expression sharpening. “And?”

“According to legend, they were bound beneath the earth in the mountains of what's now Northern Turkey. Imprisoned for revealing divine secrets to mortals.” I looked up at him, the pieces finally clicking into place. “What if Brother Michael didn't just find ancient texts? What if he found something that was meant to stay buried?”

The mark on my chest flared with sudden, searing heat, and I gasped. The room seemed to tilt around me, and for a moment, a voice echoed in the recesses of my mind—neither male nor female, neither kind nor cruel, but ancient beyond measure.

“They see all. They judge all. They come when called, but the price of their gaze is sight itself.”

The voice faded, leaving only the echo of understanding. I blinked, forcing myself back to the present, sweat beading on my forehead.

“They burn out the eyes,” I whispered, the revelation hitting me like a physical blow. “Not to kill, but to erase the memory. To make sure no one can bear witness to what they've seen. These aren't random murders—they're cover-ups. Someone released something, and it's eliminating anyone who saw it.”

Sean's face had gone pale. “The revival. They all saw it at the revival.”

I nodded, my throat tight with understanding. “And now it's hunting them down, one by one, erasing the evidence of its presence.”

“No,” I said firmly when Sean suggested we split up to cover more ground, the word escaping before I could think about it. The vehemence in my voice surprised us both.

For a moment, something stirred in my chest—not the mark, but something deeper. A flutter of panic at the thought of Sean facing this thing alone, of losing him again after just getting him back. The emotion felt foreign, muted, like trying to grasp smoke. I remembered feeling this way once, remembered what it was like to care so deeply it became a physical ache. But now it was just an echo, a shadow of what I'd once been capable of feeling.

Still, even diminished, it was enough to know I couldn't let him go alone.

“Whatever this is, it's powerful,” I said, forcing my voice to remain steady. “We stay together.”

Sean studied my face, something shifting in his expression. “Alright. Your call.”

I grabbed the car keys from the nightstand, trying to ignore the way the mark throbbed beneath my shirt, a steady pulse thatseemed to echo with warning. The strange flutter of emotion had already faded, leaving me wondering if I'd imagined it entirely.

“I need to grab something from the trunk,” Sean said, checking his backup piece, a small revolver he kept for emergencies. “Holy water, salt rounds. The works.”

I nodded, grateful for his practicality. Sean didn't waste time on existential dread—he prepared. He fought. He survived. It was one of the many reasons we'd made it this far.

“I'll pull the car around,” I said, opening the door to the cool night air.

Minutes later, we were both settled in the Impala, weapons bag in the backseat, the engine humming beneath us. Sean buckled his seatbelt and looked over at me expectantly.

“Then what are we waiting for?” he asked, loading rock salt rounds into his shotgun. “We've got people to save and a monster to gank.”

8