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Buckeye stumbled and the priests caught her. The entire congregation turned to the sound. Watched, mesmerized, as the men brought her to the center of the wide crossing that passed in front of the altar. They released her arms and stepped away to the side, out of the light.

She stood there, dumb, weaving on her feet, The Song hovering, ready to crash in like a wave.

And then Mather spoke again.

Buckeye almost fell.

“And this, my faithful, is the Fruit of the Tree of Knowledge.” His voice carried out over the nave. Over the heads of rapt Covvie worshipers. Straight between Buckeye’s legs. “This is what sin looks like. What the Territories make of a person; the Serpent making promises.”

Arousal seeped from her lips to dampen the underthings the women had hidden under her skirt. She hated Elijah Mather. Needed him.

God, it’s fucking hot up here.

“Though it may cause feelings of shame,” the head priest went on, “I ask you to look at this woman. Her modesty is gone. Burned out.”

She sank to her knees, panting. Lifted her hair off her neck with a forearm. The lights were in her eyes, but she could feel the attention of the crowd.

“Look at the way she chooses to display her body.”

That voice, oh god.

Her knees slid apart. Eyes closed.

“Look at her behavior, even in a House of the Lord.”

It was goddamn propaganda. That’s what this was. That’s what she was.

She wanted to wail, but her pussy throbbed. Her hand left the back of her neck and slid to the hem of her skirt. Fingers slipped over her crotch, so many eyes, appalled. Buckeye exhaled. Tilted her hips.

“This is what their houses of Sin make of people. Do you see? They cannot help themselves when the demons of Hell whisper in their ears. They become mindless. Whores.”

The last word vibrated down her spine like a tuning fork. Buckeye purred and rolled to her hands and knees, her entire focus on the priest.

“Father.”

The word came out throaty and lurid. The slightest flinch came at the corners of Mather’s eyes, but the congregation was too far away to see it. They were not too far to hear her, though, and a murmur rippled back through the pews. Buckeye began to crawl toward the pulpit.

“The excitement of sin can be a lure,” he went on. “I do not doubt some among us even now have stolen their way past the wall. Traveled west in secret, the search for rumors leading them on.”

If she could get to the hem of his cassock. Lay a hand on his shoe, his ankle … The smooth stone under her knees brought to mind all the cocks she’d sucked. Some right here in this room.

I knew you’d be the one.

Mather’s.

“But the truth is here!” He extended a flat palm in her direction. She wanted to lick between the fingers. “This is The Vice. This is what it makes of people. For the sake of your own salvation, be strong. Temptation is an easy path, but those who put their faith in the Lord will not stumble.”

Buckeye was nearly at his feet. She wet her lips with her tongue. Arched her back. Her eyes glittered in the fever of want.

“Elijah.”

When she said his given name, the congregation gasped.

“I need you.” The words were a ragged breath. “Please.”

The priests were hauling her back before her fingers could close on his robes. Her hips rolled, so close to their goal, even as Mather ignored her and continued to terrify the people of New Covenant with his manicured example of debauchery. One of her shoes slid off and lay abandoned on the floor, another broken truth for the believers.

She was squirming like a cat in heat by the time the Brothers returned her to the vestry. The moment they let her loose, Buckeye’s fingers slipped under the skirt. Her head fell back.