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“Stop! This is a house of God,” the clergyman boomed.

“Not my god,” one of the Russians snarled.

“No violence or blood shall be spilled in here.”

“Then you better tell us where they went.” I recognized Nikolay’s timbre. “The girl and guy who ran in here.”

“Who?”

“Do not play a fool, Reverend,” the woman said, her accent American. I felt Scarlet’s body jolt at the voice, her nails digging into my thigh where one hand gripped my pants, the other held her knife. This girl had been at the bar with her that night, a friend, so why was she here with the Russians? Especially because they shot her. It made no sense.

“I have many men and women coming in here,” the clergyman replied calmly.

The sound of a gun being cocked clicked off the high ceilings. Boots clipped over the wood floor, sounding like two were circling him while two others were searching the church. My finger rubbed over the trigger, my body tense against Scarlet’s, feeling her heartbeat slam against my back.

“You disappoint me,” the girl replied.

“Please. There is to be no blood spilled in here,” the man pleaded, though he still kept calm.

“Then answer us,” Nikolay threatened.

The handle to the confession booth rattled, my muscles locking up, my finger pressing firmer down on the trigger. It wouldn’t be terribly hard to break the lock.

Fuckfuckfuck.

“I spotted a man and woman exit the door over there,” the priest exclaimed loudly, the rattle at the handle stopping.

“Go,” the girl ordered someone, the man at the confession booth moving away.

Two pairs of feet scuffed over the wood floor, the creak of the side door opening and closing.

“You better have spoken the truth, Reverend,” she warned. “Though I’ve seen far too much hypocrisy and lies from your kind to truly believe you.”

“Believe or not, I spoke no lies.” Technically he probably did see a man and woman exit there at some point, just not us.

There was another long pause.

“Raven?” Her voice rang off the stone, bouncing back. Hearing that name again, my neck craned back to my companion. A prickle that had been nagging the base of my spine for a long time was growing louder. “If you are here, know you won’t escape me again. I know you too well. I know how you think. You will pay for your crimes. And so will your family.”

“You cannot threaten in the place of worship.”

The woman laughed. “Right. Centuries of greed, debauchery, gluttony, and rape, and I’m the bad one?”

“I think you need to leave now,” the reverend stated.

“And here I thought you were open to everyone.” She laughed again.

“Go.”

“If we find out you are harboring them, Reverend…” Nikolay spat. “I’ll have no qualms about slitting your throat.”

Sounds of their feet moved across the floor, the door slamming behind them, leaving silence in their wake.

Scarlet exhaled, her lids shutting for a moment before reopening and finding mine still on her, searching her face. Anger started to fill my chest and take over my mind, my gut screaming with a truth I seemed to know.

Her eyes tracked mine, seeing the fury and confusion in them, but before we could utter a word, the door to the confession booth opened, the clergyman standing there with a key in one hand, waving us on with the other.

“Come on,” he hissed. “Follow me. I know a secret exit.”