Page 39 of Nine Inch Nasty (Hemlock Academy #9)

I wait for the commotion to settle down before I speak again.

It seems like some people are interested in what I have to say, but a lot of them are angry that I'm here at all.

And sure, maybe my outfit is making things worse, but like, it's vital to my mission that I have quick access to my marble toy. If I decide that’s the only route to take.

“I find it highly inappropriate to air familial affairs in front of all of you. I must apologize to my mate, Wil, for being used in such a cruel way by his own parents. Nothing about my relationship with Wil has been improper. No, I will not be sharing our personal matters to entertain all of you and allow you to pick them apart. What you need to know though, is Wil’s mother doesn't approve of me, even though I am the goddess's own chosen one.

I am to be her new voice. If Mrs. Murdock doesn't want that for her child, I ask you, what would be good enough?”

I return my attention to his mother, hoping something will cut through and diffuse the situation, but I'm pretty sure we're past that.

She's already decided she's going to hate me, and nothing's going to change that.

I'm giving her son the confidence that she took away, so he's able to think for himself finally and make decisions that don't align with what she's instilled in him.

“As you can see, the goddess has blessed me with 11 mates. I know, practically unheard of. But the goddess does not want us to tear each other apart out of hate. I listened to today’s message for a moment, and maybe I'm missing some context, but it sounds like this man would have you believe that the goddess wants us to be without any sort of human urges.

“We are called to love. The goddess gave us mates, and for those of us that aren't conduits, we can emulate that with marriage.

It is one thing to expect your children to be respectful when courting a potential partner, it's another thing entirely to misjudge a situation and attack people for something you weren't even there for.

But I digress. The long and short of it is, Wil and I are officially mated under the eyes of the goddess.

There can be nothing improper between us because we share a soul.

“The goddess has shared concerns with me about this congregation because of how much hate it is generating. So much so in fact, that has spurred on a complete alter ego of the goddess. One that poses a real threat if it's not kept under control.

“That's why I'm here today, trying to intercede.

I'm not a member of this church, and I cannot say for certain, but I'm willing to bet that many of the messages you guys receive here are ones that provided you with some sort of hope and positivity.

I would hope that by coming here, you'd be feeling refreshed and loved by the goddess, not beaten down and shameful.”

I let that sink in, and I can see people shifting in their seats, and I know I've struck a nerve. Their pastor now approaches me, and I can tell he's just chomping at the bit to get me off his stage and away from his people.

So, I’ll kill him with kindness. I extend my hand. “Delaney Wilder, Sir.”

That's the first time I've used my mated name, but it feels good. It’s tradition to take the first mate's name, even if the first mate became the first mate by trickery.

“Pastor Bob. I don't appreciate you coming in here uninvited and speaking to my congregation like this. It is hardly appropriate. We don't allow young ladies to go up on this stage, either. I kindly ask you to address me from down there, if you need address me at all.”

Oh, so he's a sexist as well. I guess that kind of goes hand in hand though with a lot of their beliefs here. “Do you serve the goddess, sir?” I ain’t moving worth shit.

“What kind of a question is that? You saw the statues out front. You see the murals on the wall. Of course we serve the goddess. That is our entire existence and purpose.”

“And how much time do you spend around conduits? You spoke as if you know them well. How much support do you give for members of your church that are in a circuit?”

He stutters, likely trying to figure out a polite way to say what he's thinking. “That is none of your concern.”

“Actually, it is. My mother has been the voice of the goddess for many years; seeing as I have as many mates as her now, that honor has been passed on to me by the goddess herself. I hold within me the goddess’ knowledge, her wisdom, and her love.

Therefore, I'm able to feel the pull of the conduits sitting out in this very audience.”

There aren't too many, but the ones I do see are all seated at the back of the church, in a row on their own.

I'm not sure where their mates are, even though they're all middle-aged and should have several each. I turn to them, hoping they’ll hear my message in truth.

“I won't embarrass you by asking you all to come up here in front of everybody, but know that you are seen.

Know that you have worth. Know that the goddess loves you and wants more for you than this man is claiming you should receive.

I can't put all the blame on his shoulders, but he is misguided.”

“How dare you disrespect me! This is my church. You need to get out. Now.”

I'm not surprised that we’re being kicked out, but the congregation seems somewhat torn. There are those of them that clearly believe what I say, and those that would throw stones just to see how hard they could hit us.

I'm fairly sure Wil's parents are in the latter.

His mother seems to have been trained to not speak in the presence of a man such as this pastor, so she's not contradicting anything he's saying, or interrupting him, or trying to take any attention on herself, even though I can tell how eager she is to engage with me.

She's having some sort of argument with Wil's father, pushing him to action. As much as I don't want that though, it’s what I’ve kind of been waiting for. He’s putting his hands out, trying to calm her down, and then he swings his eyes to me.

He checks on his son, winces, and then straightens his shoulders.

“Why should we bring our fight to Hemlock when we are presented with such an excellent opportunity right here in our very congregation to share our views and express our concerns? What better time than now to make an example and be a beacon for our community?”

The pastor takes this into consideration, tilting his head. “Why indeed.” He looks around, and I must say I'm not really liking the way he's eyeing the stone altar at the front. Regardless of what it's normally used for, I'm pretty sure he has different ideas for it right now.

“Gentlemen, please escort your mate up here with me. We have some important things to discuss.”

Wil steps in front of me in an act of protection.

Sure, maybe I don't actually need it, but it's nice to see him take his strength back.

“You will have no cooperation from us on that.

She is ours to protect. This is my mate.

The voice of our divine goddess. She deserves respect, not to be blasted for going against ideas that you yourself have thought up.

The goddess works within her; I've seen it with my own eyes.

All of us have. And she's right to. The goddess asks that we love each other, not condemn each other. Not exert our control over each other.”

“Wil! What has gotten into you?”

He doesn't even spare a book to his parents, and the pastor seems done negotiating with us.

He summons some of the male members of his congregation up, ones that are dripping in oily lust. They're trying to be covert about how they look at me, even in front of their wives, but my bodysmith senses don't lie.

One of them steps toward me, a bland smile on his face. “It's best if you just cooperate, ma'am.”

“Uh, Delaney? How far are we going to let this go? Please don't tell me you have thoughts of letting them actually put you on that altar and tying you down before you pull out the secret weapon.”

“No, Adam. I'm not going to—”

A woman in the front starts screaming. “She's got a weapon! Get her bag!”

Damn. I guess we're just going for this one.

People in the front rows start screaming and heading toward the back of the church, plastering themselves against the wall so they can still watch the drama play out but feel safe, I guess.

“Actually, it's just a dick.” And I whip it out.

Somebody actually vomits at the sight. That's a new reaction.

“I told you she was blasphemous! What do you mean by bringing such an awful, disgusting thing into the house of the goddess? Pastor Bob, I beseech you, control her or I will!” Wil's mother screeches.

I wave it around to make it seem more aggressive, and that makes the volunteers close rank on me. At this point I'm just looking for a target. It's obviously going to be awkward no matter who I choose, but the work must be done.

“Hey there handsome. Quick question for you. How do you feel about prophecies?”

The man nearest me opens his mouth wide in confusion. I caught him off guard. In goes the Nine Inch Nasty.

At first, he's obviously fighting it, trying to push us away, but after a little bit of light choking action, he relaxes and the energy around me dissipates just as the goddess said it would.

In a surprising plot twist, the man begins to deep throat the relic and moan out loud as he sinks to his knees, leaving me completely speechless.

Definitely in a bad way. However, him taking it into his body is like a physical release of the hatred steeped around us, and it seems to make the sun shine just a little bit brighter through the high windows in the building.

“Mated, you say?” pastor Bob asks as he puts his hand in his pockets and shakes his head. “That's wonderful. Congratulations, Wilford. Will you be having an official ceremony? I’d love to offer my services.”

I wipe the Nine Inch Nasty off on the guy’s shirt, and I actually have to wrestle it away from him because he’s trying to hold on to it to do goddess knows what, but my work here is done. We stopped an angry mob, and I saved myself from being sacrificed. I'd say that's a good afternoon.

“We'll let you know,” Wil says as he turns and starts to escort me out.

“Wilford, wait! We aren't done here!”

“Goodbye, mother. Please don't call. Oh, and by the way, we’re your new council, so expect a full investigation into this congregation, fueled by today’s stunts.

Sacrifices are generally frowned upon.” His hand guides me to the back of the hall, and I have to elbow Adam to get him to stop playing with the water in the baptismal font.

He turned it into a small fountain bursting with phallic shaped spray as the water came out of the top.

“Knock it off. Behave yourself.”

He grabs my hips and kisses me. “Never.”