Page 13

June’s hands feel soft and warm in mine as she takes them. I easily pull her to her feet and guide her to the back door behind the kitchen. We need to get out of here. I need to tell her.

Fuck. As exorcists, we’re meant to keep the existence of demons as a belief, not a fact. Meaning, I am supposed to act covertly. June should’ve never found out about why I’m really here. She never should’ve been in that situation. But the fucking imps revealed themselves to her, lusting after her. It’s been a long time since I’ve encountered a demon strong enough to have imps around. The tiny demons are nothing more than a nuisance, grunts to the big guy in charge, and based on the shadowy figure I saw, I’d guess that’s their big guy.

He’s finally made himself known.

And June was there to see it all.

As I pull her outside and around the back of the church, I realize they were going after her. Maybe she’s the target.

I can’t think straight, not as I see the tiny hands of the imps on her skin, not as I watch the claws tear at her skirt. I pull June toward me and press her into the wall in the alley beside the church. The smell of trash breaks the clogged scent of sulfur filling my nose, my shoes seeping in the mud underneath us.

“Keep breathing.”

“What was that?” she demands. It’s the firmest I’ve heard her since we met. “What were those things?”

I debate not telling her, sending her home, and just leaving her to wonder. I debate calling Rodrigo and Rowan and letting them handle this.

But instead, I tell her everything.

“I lied. I’m not here for church developments or whatever bullshit I said a few days ago.” My shift of tone startles her. But I want to drop this facade I’ve worn every time I’ve faced her as Marcelo. She’s liked the masked man enough—the real me. I think she can handle where the two meet.

I take a step closer, surrounding her as she presses herself into the wall.

“A-are you even a priest?”

I huff a laugh. “Unfortunately. I’m an exorcist.”

She doesn’t laugh, just scrunches her eyebrows, and I can hear her words before she says them.

“Yes, like the movies. June, those were demons. Real demons—hellfire, pitchforks, all that. And I think they were after you.”

I can see her mind digesting my words, her eyes flitting back and forth between mine.

“And you’re here . . . to exorcise them?”

I nod. “Father Callum called me here.. He said the parish was under oppression.”

Her throat bobs, lips quivering no matter how hard she presses them together.

“And you think . . . you think they’re after me?” She pauses. “Why?”

Well, fuck. I can’t very well tell her I know about her time in the confessional booth. Nor that I know the demon makes her incredibly horny. Nor that the demon, in turn, makes me incredibly horny for her .

So, instead, I say, “The imps were chasing you, grabbing you. And . . . I know you feel things. I can see it on your face sometimes.”

Great, Marcelo, leave it vague and weird.

June blushes, and I quickly add, “Do you feel eyes on the back of your neck sometimes? Or like something is standing in the room behind you, but when you turn, nothing is there?”

She thinks for a moment, and slowly nods before biting her lip. “There’s more.”

I realize how close she is, how warm. Her chest rises and falls, her tits so close to my chest. Fuck, what I’d give to feel them pressed against me, to see her hardened nipples and take them between my teeth.

Her sweet lips quiver again, and I try to tell myself it’s the demonic influence doing this to us.

But I know it’s not.

Her bouts of arousal may be from the demon—even the intensely real fantasies I’ve had may be from it—but my desire for her is all me.

“I—I don’t think I can tell you like this. Not face to face.” She tilts her chin up, her eyes dropping to my lips, then back to my eyes. Fuck, that look. Those eyes.

How badly I want to take her on the side of this church.

It’d be easy.

No one is around.

She’s wearing a skirt. I could tear the panties right off her ass and shove my cock deep inside her.

At the least, I could lean down mere centimeters and take her lips.

“It’d be easier if—”

A black mass slams down next to us, on top of the giant green trash can. June jumps into me. I throw my arms around her and pull her behind me, ready to fight whatever may come for us.

“Fuckin’ Hell,” I curse as a familiar pair of golden eyes stare at me, the little demon licking its long, sharp teeth.

June fidgets against me, her chest pressing against mine, and it makes me want to collapse on the spot from bliss. Still gripping my shoulder, she looks behind me at the cat now licking its paw. She gasps, her eyes lighting, and she quickly pushes away from me.

“Oh my goodness, and who are you?” she squeals, the cat immediately rubbing its head against her palm.

“ El diablo ,” I mutter.

She turns to me and pouts her lip. “That’s what you named this cutie?”

“It’s a devil.”

“ He’s the cutest kitty.” Her wide eyes fall on the cat again, and she gingerly picks him up. The bastard actually snuggles into her arms calmly, rubbing against her as he starts to purr.

“As I said, Diablo.”

June huffs a laugh and looks at the creature in her arms, then back up at me. “He actually kind of looks like you, Father Marcelo.”

I lower my brows.

“Look.” She points at the white tuft of fur on his chest. “He has a white collar, just like you.”

I groan. “Maybe he’s an exorcist too.”

June presses her lips together. “Mmm, I think he’s more of an exterminator. Someone’s gotta get rid of the church mice.”

I chuckle, and June’s smile in response is igniting my insides like fireworks. It makes me melt.

“You can drop the ‘Father,’ by the way. Call me Marcelo, please.”

I want my name on her lips, with or without her calling me Father, but maybe it’ll put her more at ease with this version of me. Maybe, soon, she’ll be as open with this me as she is with the masked man.

Her cheeks warm once again. “Okay, Marcelo,” she tests, her lips lifting as the o leaves her lips.

“Much better.” I smirk. There’s so much more I want to talk to her about, so much more I want to tell her. But I know her parents must be growing impatient and I could only imagine the welts they’d give her if they catch her in this alley with me, alone. “I should get you back to the parish,” I say. “I don’t think I even have to ask this of you, but please don’t tell anyone about the demon, nor about what I’m really here for.”

She nods. “Oh, of course!” June places Diablo on the ground, scratching between his ears a final time, and stands up straight. “And if you need any help—I don’t really know what I could do—but . . . I’m here if you need me.”

Her offer chips even more of the “lone wolf” barrier around my heart away. There’s no way I’d ever put her in harm’s way, but I’ve been at this game alone for a long time now. At no fault of my loved ones; Hell, Rodrigo, Rowan, and even Willow—with no stake in the church at all—have been begging to help. I’ve just never let them.

It’s specifically something about June that makes me want to nudge that door open enough only for her.

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”

Her perfect, pure smile beams up at me and I have never, so desperately, wanted to taint someone so corruptly with my love.