Page 15

Shit. I already regret promising Rodrigo intel tonight. I imagine June at home, waiting for me. Hopefully, there are no new lashes, but who will be there to help her if there are? Is she wearing the lingerie I got her? I hope they fit right. I’d hate to have gotten her anything more restricting than what she had before. I know women typically feel much more confident when they feel sexy, and while June doesn’t need anything extra, I’m hoping it’ll make her feel just as fucking hot as she truly is.

Picturing her solves none of my problems, but damn, do I love it.

Instead of being outside her window, watching her as she slips on that lacy thong, I’m here—in the church after dark, scoping the grounds.

Being an exorcist is all about finding the right place at the right time—something the movies don’t really show you. We cannot summon demons to us, not without actual summoning rituals or taboo items such as spirit boards—both of which are banned in the Order of the Exorcists, as they give more power to the demon in question.

No, instead, we must hunt. We investigate. We . . . find .

Demons don’t always show themselves. Sometimes they hide within the bodies of others, and sometimes, they’re more like ghosts, here one moment and gone the next.

I highly doubt the black shadow or its imps will reveal themselves to me tonight, but it’s worth looking.

Creeping from my room, I push into the large hallway June was attacked in this morning. Compared to then, it’s now silent, the only sounds being the air conditioner and my footsteps.

The imps made themselves known to us today after I saw the shadow, and it was the first time June has seen them at all. And there’s no question that they were after her.

The hallway is pristine, the floor practically spotless, as if someone had cleaned it mere minutes ago—which, I guess, they would have. Afternoon Mass concluded about an hour and a half ago. After that, people were all throughout the church doing their nightly cleaning.

So, there goes that plan.

I hadn’t spoken to Father Callum much about why he called us in the first place—nothing more than that first night here.

If he knew about the demon, does he know about its connection to June?

Before I think of another option, I’m leaving the church and walking to his small cottage. The Belmouth air is crisp, almost sharp, as I walk through the autumn night. It’s wet; red and gold leaves cling to the black ground, and each step is silenced by the layer of dew just below my feet.

I pull out a cigarette—I haven’t smoked all day, and the itch is only growing and growing the more unclear this case is becoming.

The moment I ignite the lighter, my foot bumps into something . . . pliable. Small white fangs and golden eyes shine from below me, as Diablo hisses at me once more and jumps back.

“Yeah, fuck you too,” I grumble, finally lighting the cigarette. That first pull fills my lungs so deliciously, I can practically feel the tar building on them. I know it’s not good for me, but fuck. Right now, it’s one of my holier vices. It’s this, or abandon my vows, kidnap June, kill her parents, and fuck her over their still-warm corpses.

Choose your sins wisely, Marcelo.

Surprisingly, Diablo follows me. He keeps his distance, but the cat trots at a pace matching my own. His eyes stay straight ahead, on Father Callum’s little cottage. I wait a moment, Diablo stopping next to me, to finish the rest of my cigarette, the smoke clouding with my breath in the air.

Once I snub it out, Diablo doesn’t follow me the rest of the way to the cottage. Instead, he sits, watching as though he were waiting to see what I would do next.

I walk up to Callum’s door and rap my knuckles against the wood. A few beats of silence, and I knock again.

Then again.

The cottage is utterly silent on the other side. Either he’s a heavy sleeper or Father Callum isn’t home.

But where would a priest—one without a masked alter ego—be on a Friday night?

Maybe Father Callum isn’t as devoted as I pegged him for. Or maybe he’s running a local food drive. Who fucking knows.

I turn to the devil cat behind me, his gold eyes watching me, and all I can think is, this cat knows something .