Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Noa threw back her head, then clutched the knives in her hands even tighter. Her body was shaking, but not with fear or trepidation. It was shaking with the sudden rush of adrenaline, with the fucking bliss that came with sinking blades into still-beating hearts and staring into shocked eyes as the life drained from their souls.

Noa stared down at the priest beneath her, at the blood dropping from his mouth and his chest slowing as the stab wound took effect. But it wasn’t enough; it was never enough with these men. So Noa twisted the blade, the last of the priest’s fight allowing him to release a final guttering scream.

She closed her eyes and let that sound of agony wash over her, seep into her bones. She felt the darkness within her move and devour the scream, allowing its fear-filled notes to feed its insatiable hunger for death, for revenge …

Noa’s blood sang as the darkness warmed her muscles, as it calmed her more than any drug ever could.

She was the darkness.

The darkness was her …

… and she was never giving it up.

Noa sat upright in bed. Her breathing was labored, and sweat clung to her body like a second layer of skin. Her soaked pink hair was stuck to the back of her neck and cheeks.

The dream … it was the dream. Noa’s blood rushed through her body, as if it was searching for the darkness she had just dreamed about. Like a child awaiting the return of a parent, frantic and excited at the prospect of being united once again after too much time forced apart.

And Noa wanted to submit. She wanted nothing more than to lower the iron gate that kept the two parts of her separated. She wanted to just fucking rest and let the twin parts of her soul re-merge, so she could be at peace. To stop the torture that plagued her daily.

Noa lifted her shaking hand and pushed the sweaty pink strands of hair from her face. She tipped her head back and stared at the white-painted ceiling. Diel. This was due to Diel.

From the minute he had wrapped his hand around her neck in the priest’s home, he had awoken a long-slumbering part of her. He hadn’t just awoken it; his internal monster had roared at the blackened part of her soul to rise and take its place at the forefront of her body once again.

She could feel it now, circling her body, looking for any loose brick in her fortress. Threatening. Stalking. Promising that it would it find its way through soon.

Noa knew she should be fighting it. Pushing it back like she had vowed to do. Noa could lie to everyone else, reassure her sisters, that she was okay, that she was in control.

But she couldn’t lie to herself. And just remembering blue eyes looking over her like they possessed X-ray vision, she knew there was one person who saw through her bullshit too.

Diel. Diel, with his monster who had placed Noa in its sights.

Noa threw back the comforter, stepped into the shower, and turned it to its coldest setting. She ducked under the icy spray and tried to take back hold of her senses. But her darkness was stronger, thrashing at her walls, heavy artillery pounding at her weakening defenses.

So she took herself to the place that always gave her a swift victory. To glazed eyes and a parted mouth. Skin and bones and graying skin.

Noa’s fists clenched on the tiles before her as the water sluiced down her back. Her darkness had caused that tragedy. Her thirst for blood and revenge had caused that irreparable sin that she could never forgive herself for.

Noa held her breath and fought back the threatening force within her, reminding herself over and over again why it had to be this way. It was a minute later when she gasped out a much-needed breath. But just as she let down her guard, a voice inside of her whispered, “He’s just like you.” Noa froze, body still. “You are just like him.”

Noa shook her head, heart pounding. She scrambled for the shower’s controls, turned it off and jumped out, escaping from those words, from that truth.

The alluring temptation of that truth.

She dried herself off and threw on some clothes. She went to make her way out of the door, but she stopped dead on seeing her reflection in the full-length mirror. And Noa just stared. She stared at her long pink hair, her black clothes, and the brown eyes that she rarely recognized these days.

Noa stepped closer, one step, two step, three … She reached out her hand and ran it gently over the glass. She was a mannequin in this skin. The hair, the lack of bitter vibrancy in her gaze were only a mask for what she and her sisters knew resided underneath.

Diel was the first person outside of her coven who had taken one look at Noa and known what lay in her soul. Shivers ran down her spine as she recalled him in the cell, goading her to come closer.

He was a magnet drawing her in. Her stomach turned. She didn’t know how long she could hold herself back from his allure.

The more she stared in the mirror, at the woman she no longer knew, the less she was sure that she wanted to.

The sound of screaming cut through her inner war. Noa rushed to Beth’s bedroom. When she walked through the door, the rest of her sisters were already there. Beth was thrashing around on the mattress, her skin red with exertion and her eyes wide with the fear of the disease she believed constantly poisoned her blood.

Jo pressed a wet cloth to Beth’s forehead. Candace pinned her arms down, and Naomi moved bed-side, her bloodletting kit in her hands. Naomi sat on the edge of the mattress and, as she had done so many times before, placed a tourniquet around Beth’s bicep and cut into the skin. Crimson blood trickled down Beth’s arm. Her body jerked; her eyes were glazed. But as the warm blood flowed from the wound, her breathing turned from choppy and labored to quiet and calm.

Noa reached the foot of the bed and placed a soothing hand on Beth’s ankle. She looked so small on the mattress. Beth had always been a complicated case. She was strong and could fight just as well as the rest of the Coven. But the blood disease she believed she had, that the Brethren had convinced her she was cursed with, was a viper, striking her down with its venom. For years, whenever the disease had her in its grip, the Brethren Witch Finder twins had pinned her down and placed leeches all along her body. Week after week, she would be tied down, leeches sucking the blood from her body until it was all her life became.

Color blossomed back into Beth’s cheeks, and Naomi collected the “poisoned” blood into sterile bowls to dispose of. Beth’s blood had been sent to every blood specialist in the US for examination. All had given the blood the all clear.

Dinah caught Noa’s eyes over the bed. Her sister was just as pissed at the situation as she was. Not at Beth. Never at Beth. But at the bastards who’d made such a pure soul believe she was riddled with soiled and worthless blood, so much so that Beth was convinced that if it wasn’t let, she would die an agonizing death. After years of trying to heal Beth, Noa was pretty sure that there was no remedy in existence that would ever take the plight from her. No amount of therapy could convince her that she was clean.

Beth’s eyes closed, and her breathing evened out as she felt the poison draining from her body. Dinah sighed. “We agreed to breakfast with the Fallen.” She checked her watch. “We’re already five minutes late.”

“I’ll stay with Beth,” Naomi said, her soft lisp wrapping around her “s” sounds. Dinah moved to Naomi and kissed her on the head. Then she looked at Noa, Jo and Candace.

“Let’s go.”

“Call us if you need us,” Noa said to Naomi as they left the room. Noa was dressed in her staple black leather trousers and a long-sleeved black top. Dinah, Jo and Candace didn’t look much different. After years of hiding and covertly seeking out the Brethren, they had grown accustomed to being battle-ready, whenever, wherever. That had never been more apparent than last night.

As Noa followed Dinah, Jo and Candace into the tunnels that led to the manor, of course she thought of Diel. She had told him the truth. She had known he was coming for her. She’d seen the look in his eyes when the Coven had arrived at Eden Manor. She knew that tormented glint. One that promised death, in all its painful glory. Priscilla, their wayward sister, had worn it often. But Noa had also seen that look several times in her own reflection. Her brown eyes looking back at her, thirst for vengeance dilating the pupil and making the iris clear and bright.

With each rhythmic boot-step on the tunnel’s old stone floor, Noa thought back to Diel. The crazed fight he’d had within himself before her. She had watched with fascination as he switched personalities like a light being turned on and off at a rapid speed. One second the beast inside triumphed; the next, then did Diel.

Her thoughts lightened when she thought of Diel’s monster. The way it watched her, softened under her touch, like a tamed beast simply needing a moment of rest. Then she recalled Diel fighting back to the surface. The man with the glacial eyes. He acted in total opposition to the monster, recoiling from her touch as though it were a naked flame. Her chest pulled tight. Not in anger, but in deep sorrow.

As if hearing her thoughts, every single scar on her body began to sting; every bone in her body ached as if she been strapped to the rack and yanked apart. But there had always been more that came with the rack, as punishment for her perceived innate sin, for being the devil’s whore on earth.

More than the agonized pain and the muscular tears. More than the dislocations and the burning welts from red-hot pokers singeing her skin while she was bound to the wooden contraption. And if she was correct, the Fallen had been taken sexually by the priests too, just as she and her sisters were. An exorcism of the flesh wasn’t complete without the cleansing of the internal flesh too.

It was relentless. And not one of the Brethren’s “sinners” came away from their respective hells unaffected.

Nausea built in Noa’s throat as she remembered Diel rolling off the bed after lying underneath her. After the monster had pinned her down and wanted to touch her, gain her affection. She pictured Diel writhing on the floor, his voice lethal and dark, but the fear in his eyes shining so brightly it could have blotted out the midday sun.

Fear of her. Not of what she might do to hurt him, but of what she might do to soothe him. For someone who had been so cruelly and wickedly treated for too many years to count, the act of kindness and the simplicity of an embrace could be as destructive as a sword plunged directly into the heart.

And Noa knew its root cause was the collar.

She remembered the collar’s dagger-like electricity striking him down, wrecking his body as if he deserved it. She remembered the tight jaw, the taut muscles and the tormented roar as the volts burned his every cell from the inside out.

With the force of a migraine attack, Noa remembered the face of the boy from a few years ago. He had been tied up in a metal collar and chains, rabid and feral like a junkyard dog, hanging on for dear life, but fighting so hard to be freed that he’d used the last of his depleted energy to snarl and try to attack her even as she arrived to set him free. Even after being locked up like an animal and abused to within an inch of his life—skin and bone, and gray in pallor—he still fought. Because he had a monster inside him too. A beast, Noa knew, who protected him from feeling the harm that was inflicted upon him daily. His feral nature wasn’t immoral or evil—it was his salvation, the only way his mind knew to protect the purity in his spirit from being crushed.

Just like Diel. As if the past and present were colliding, Noa saw the boy and Diel mold into one damaged soul as clearly as she saw the stars in the sky each night. And as she’d stroked her finger down Diel’s monster’s cheeks and ran her hand through his hair last night, Noa had seen a glimpse of a young boy in Diel’s deathly frightened stare too. Frightened of any kind of non-threatening touch.

To kill was his protection. To seek revenge was the only way he could get out of bed each morning and live something that resembled a life.

And Noa knew this, because that used to be her life too.

She remembered the burning, molten anger taking hold and controlling her. She surrendered herself to it freely. Like it was a soft cloud catching her in freefall. Like it was her trusted sword against an invading enemy army, boldly slashing them down in cold blood so she could never be hurt again.

“Noa?”

Noa shook her head and blinked in the tunnel’s semi-darkness.

Dinah was facing her, eyebrows furrowed. “You okay?”

Noa nodded, but the echoing chills of her thoughts remained. “Yes.”

Dinah stepped even closer. “Is it him? Are you worried about seeing him this morning after last night?”

Noa smiled. “No. Not at all.” It was the truth. If anything, Noa was desperate to lay eyes on Diel again. He had become like a dream she couldn’t shake; her gut told her to seek him out, to be near him, to guide him. It had been that way from her first sight of him in the priest’s home, feeling his strong hand wrap around her throat as he slammed her against the wall, then watching him savagely destroy the priest on the bed. Blood and death didn’t faze her. When you were raised in the dark, pitch-blackness felt as comforting as a soft, warm blanket. That included the demons that lurked within it.

The minute she had looked into his eyes, and seen that collar around his neck, something flared inside her. A magnet, pulling her to the tall and imposing black-haired man with the oceanic eyes—like called to like.

Noa could still feel the phantom sensation of her on top of him last night, him hard beneath her. His body broad and muscled, and his cock so solid between her legs. The monster craved her; the man fought it. Diel refused to yield and instead wanted her dead.

So, she’d offered him tonight.

In the folly he expected a fight. And a fight he would get. No, not a fight, an apocalyptic war. Just not the kind that he anticipated. Her heart skipped a beat. Her plan had to work. She would make sure it worked. Because she understood the beast inside him better than he could ever know. She understood why it existed. What Diel wasn’t aware of was that the monster wasn’t a separate part of him, some evil entity that had come to possess him.

The monster was Diel and Diel was the monster. They were one, and that fucking collar was keeping them apart. He needed to face his inner demon. He needed to embrace its darkness into his hidden light.

“What happened last night?” Candace asked, confusion written on her face.

“Nothing,” Noa said, still glaring at Dinah to make sure she didn’t speak of it.

Dinah sighed, but then looked at Candace and Jo. “Noa had a bad dream. She woke up screaming.”

Jo looked at them suspiciously, but then shrugged. “Fine. If that’s how you want to play it. Let’s get to this friggin’ breakfast.”

Dinah knocked on the manor’s door, then let herself in. “Hello?” she shouted.

A real-life fucking butler came to greet them—black and white suit, a bow tie and everything. “This way, ladies.” Dinah looked back at her sisters and raised her eyebrows. The Coven weren’t used to pomp and ceremony; they were used to leaking tunnels and cold so frigid it rattled their bones.

Noa followed the butler and her sisters into the dining room. The second the butler opened the door, Gabriel got to his feet at the head of the table. He was dressed in his priest’s outfit again, his soft blond curls making him look like a living, breathing saint. Noa wanted to snarl at the sight; shitty memories of the most ungodly men in those black suits cut too deep for her to see him as anything but an enemy.

But Noa’s attention quickly fell from Gabriel, and she roved her gaze over the busy table. It didn’t take her long to seek out Diel. He sat next to the one who had been waiting for him last night—Sela. Father Auguste’s brother and doppelganger. Just the sight of Sela’s face sent shudders through her body, and she had to breathe slowly to calm herself down.

He wasn’t Auguste. He wasn’t the Witch Finder General. In fact, from what she could gather, he was as far from Father Auguste as he could possibly get. He was a Fallen. He had been deemed a sinner and an enemy of the faith.

Diel was already watching her. Bright blue eyes were fixed on her every move. His body vibrated where he sat, and his head ticked from one side to the other, his eyes blinking dramatically. She was once again witnessing the fight for dominance between monster and man. His collar crackled, pulling Gabriel’s attention to him.

“Diel?” Gabriel said. “Are you okay?”

Diel closed his eyes and breathed. Gabriel watched him closely, but the other brothers talked among themselves like it was something they’d seen a million times before—they probably had. When Diel’s eyes opened again, he seemed calmer, but by the excessive ticking, Noa knew that not to be true. “I’m fine,” Diel growled.

Sela’s gaze slipped to Noa’s. It narrowed, as if he suspected she was the evil heretic she had been raised to believe she was.

“We seem to be missing some of your sisters,” Gabriel said, a hint of a question in his voice.

“Beth’s feeling unwell. Naomi is staying to watch over her,” Dinah explained.

“Do you need a doctor?” Gabriel asked.

“No need,” Dinah said, protecting Beth as fiercely as she always had.

“It wasn’t something we said, was it?” the redhead, Bara, asked, a cold grin on his lips.

“Not at all,” Dinah said.

“Then please, sit down,” Gabriel said, and the Coven pulled out chairs. Noa made a casual beeline for the seat opposite Diel. She sat down and met his harsh stare head on. The air between them seemed to thicken, crackling with tension. Jo shifted beside Noa, darting worried eyes between her and Diel. Noa slipped her hand under the table and squeezed Jo’s, silently telling her not to draw attention to them.

“So,” Gabriel said, as a middle-aged woman began bringing out plates of food. Noa’s stomach growled. “How’s the house?”

“Perfect.” Dinah cast a subtle glance at Diel. The ire on her face was plain and clear, but she refocused her attention on Gabriel before he could suspect anything.

The door to the dining room opened, and Maria, the woman with the abnormally long hair, slipped through. Raphael, her Fallen partner, entered behind her. Raphael’s shirt was half-open, exposing his chest—a chest that was coated in a light sheen of sweat. Maria was combing through her hair with her fingers, smoothing some flyaway strands. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes were bright. Noa smirked to herself, completely aware of why they were late.

“I’m so sorry,” Maria said, flustered, and took her place beside Gabriel. Raphael slipped beside her, his hand reaching out to run through Maria’s hair. His golden eyes never moved off the woman, as if she were a living goddess. Noa frowned when she caught a line of red around Maria’s neck. Strangely, no one but her seemed disturbed by the sight.

“Raphe,” Bara said, shaking his head. “Don’t you know how uncouth it is to fuck your woman so long you almost miss breakfast?” Michael, Gabriel’s vampiric brother, sat next to Raphael, sipping on his blood and staring at the tabletop once again, apparently not even paying attention to anything happening around him. Even as Uriel and Sela began stacking their plates with pancakes and bacon, he just sipped on his glass of blood like it was OJ.

Noa thought of the glaring irony. Michael was contentedly consuming blood as his morning sustenance, while Beth was back in the housekeeper’s home voluntarily expelling it from her body.

Raphael smiled, and even Noa could see the glaring attraction of the man. He was like a Renaissance oil painting—golden eyes, dark hair and complete facial perfection. “I’ll never apologize for being with my little rose, Bara. I’d fuck her on the table right now if she wanted me to.”

Bara rolled his eyes as Uriel scowled beside him, his piercings glinting in the sun that shone through the vast bay window overlooking the expansive gardens. Bara turned back to the sisters. “You see, ladies. We’re very free with our affection around here.”

“It wouldn’t be welcome,” Dinah said with a curt laugh.

“Ouch,” Bara said, hand over his chest. “You wound me, head witch.”

“Don’t be offended.” Dinah shrugged. “I’m on the ace spectrum. I don’t find anyone attractive enough to want to fuck them.”

“Ace?” Uriel questioned, eyebrows drawn down in confusion.

“I’m both asexual and aromantic,” Dinah explained. “I have no inclination toward people either sexually or romantically. No desire at all.” Dinah pointed at Noa, Jo and Candace. “I have my sisters. Our purpose to bring the Brethren fuckers down. That completes my life, before you ask if I’m missing out or some other asinine question like that, which, frankly, is nothing but fucking offensive. I’m not.”

“And just for the record,” Candace said, firmly clutching Jo’s hand, “we like pussy. Each other’s, specifically.”

“Now, that,’” Bara said, “is something we have in common. I’ll take pussy all fucking day long too.”

“Bara, please,” Gabriel said, clearly exasperated, and somewhat uncomfortable, judging by the quick tightening of his lips.

“We have a brother who drinks blood, one who strangles his woman with her own hair while he fucks her, and one who wears a metal collar to keep himself under some kind of control,” Uriel said, and Noa could see that he was just as perfect-looking as Raphael, though it was obvious he tried to lessen that attractiveness with his many piercings and tattoos. He was losing the battle though. In Noa’s eyes, it only made him more interesting. “I’m not sure any kind of existing spectrum could show what we fuckers are into.”

“You only covered some of your family’s sexual preferences,” Jo said. “What about the rest of you?”

Uriel smiled widely. “Let’s just say we’ve only mentioned the very tip of that iceberg.”

“Speaking of,” Bara said. “How’s the little mute fire witch doing?”

Noa whipped her head to look at Bara. Naomi. He was talking about Naomi. “You don’t need to fucking think of her at all,” Noa said coldly. The redhead turned his disturbing green eyes on her. In that moment, he looked just like a panther sizing up his prey.

“Is that so, pink witch?” he said, voice lowering an octave. He remained staring at her, and a shard of ice trickled down her spine under his glacial attention. But Noa stared right back. He didn’t intimidate her. None of these fuckers did. She’d dealt with worse …

A quiet voice in her head told her that maybe she was worse.

The sudden electrical snap of Diel’s collar cut through the room like a thunderclap, pulling everyone’s focus his way. He was shaking, fists clenched on the table. His neck was corded, and his eyes were bloodshot with the strain of trying to keep himself reeled in.

“Diel?” Gabriel said cautiously, but Diel’s eyes were on Noa. Then they slowly traveled to Bara, who frowned in confusion at his brother. When Bara glanced at Noa, a look of stark understanding flashed across his face.

Bara held up his hands, wearing a cocky grin. “Message received, brother.”

Noa’s heart fired into a sprint. Sela placed down his fork and said, “Breathe, Diel.”

Diel stared at Noa a second longer, the look in his eyes switching between the monster’s softness and Diel’s potent anger. But he eventually shut his eyes and inhaled a steady breath. In less than a minute, the collar lost its serpentine hiss, and the charged metal seemed to calm to a low-grade hum.

Diel opened his eyes, but his focus was on the wooden table, gaze averted from Noa. Noa fought to keep her own breathing under control. Heat rushed over her body, and every part of her was primed, in a confused cocktail of being braced to either fight or defend Diel.

Tonight in the folly couldn’t come soon enough.

“You’re a fucking interesting bunch, that’s for sure,” Dinah said, shaking her head. “Never thought we’d find anyone more fucked up than us. But I think we’ve hit the goddamn lottery with you guys.”

“You flatter,” Bara said, the darkness he’d just exposed quelled and his usual dry humor rising to the surface.

Dinah faced Gabriel. “As much as I’m loving the fucked-up blended-family bonding, we need to start planning. Our rescued children need moving. And we need to start talking about how we’re going to take out the Brethren.”

Gabriel nodded. He was about to speak when Noa asked, “I’m assuming you can all fight.”

Gabriel seemed taken aback by that. Uriel leaned forward, elbows on the table. “We’re serial killers. What do you think?”

Noa cracked her neck. “Being able to kill, individually, doesn’t mean you can fight collectively.” She scanned the Fallen men. “You have just turned your focus to fighting the Brethren and were only your run-of-the-mill, everyday murderers before that. We have been facing these pricks for years.” She tapped her nails on the table. “They can fight. They train together constantly—a well-oiled cohesive unit. You have no idea what awaits you. We have barely scratched the surface.”

“We set Purgatory fucking alight,” Sela said. Diel’s head remained bowed as he tried to keep himself calm. “We went in and killed them all.”

Noa huffed a laugh. “A few old priests who you caught unawares in the back of some secluded kids’ home.” Noa looked at her sisters, who were nodding in agreement with her. She leaned forward, and as she did, she saw Diel stiffen. His musky scent hit her nose, causing shivers to spread all over her skin.

She lost a breath before she schooled her features and carried on. “The Witch Finders, and the Brethren soldiers, await a holy war against all enemies. Their very own Armageddon. It’s been prophesized. They talked about it nonstop when my sisters and I were their captives.”

Noa remembered overhearing those conversations with crystal clarity. “They live and breathe solely for their mission to rid the world of evil. Of people like us.” Noa laughed, only because she could scarcely deal with the enormity of the influence and power their mutual enemy had. “You have no idea …” She shook her head, not in disrespect to the Fallen and their lack of knowledge of just how powerful the Brethren was, but at the seemingly impossible battle that was before them all. Thirteen of them versus an entire fleet of cult-whipped, zealot priests.

“And you’ve faced them?” Maria slipped her hand into Raphael’s, who appeared to be listening just as closely as the rest of them. He brought her fingers to his mouth and kissed each one.

Noa nodded. “Some.”

“But you don’t kill them?” Sela asked, clearly trying to understand how the Coven functioned as a unit. Dinah, Jo and Candace shook their heads, but Noa couldn’t do that and remain truthful. The air around her suddenly became stagnant when no response fell from her lips.

“Mmm,” Bara said. “Seems the serpent-tongued pink witch might sway toward our way of doing things. Am I right?”

Noa’s chin lifted, her nostrils flared and her teeth clenched. Her instant reaction was a silent admission. She felt Diel lock his penetrating gaze on her then. Her mind and body were hyperaware of him and his monster, as if she had an inbuilt alarm for any move he made. She had momentarily let her guard down and shown him a glimpse of her closely protected soul. A soul that was tarnished black and red, scarred and battle-worn, moth-eaten and torn.

When Noa finally looked at Diel, she knew, right then, it was the man watching her, not his monster. But what swept the air from her lungs was the expression on his face—not the look of contempt and vexation he usually cast her way, but a glimmer of interest that appeared like a speck of dust caught in a beam of light. It was the momentary shock of seeing a streak of a murderous stain within her too.

“Don’t worry, the men I killed more than deserved it.” Noa sat back in her chair, her leather pants creaking as she moved. She tried to push the conversation far away from her and her past. Talking about it only made her crave it, thirst for it … yearn for it. She was already fragile from the dream earlier.

She was weakening. Minute by minute, in Diel’s presence, she could feel her fight weakening. She masked her inner battle once again to say, “The truth is, we have no real idea of the vastness of the Brethren’s numbers or reach. But from the glimpse we got … it’s a motherfucking empire, not some small, brainwashed rebel army.”

“You killed them on your own?” Uriel asked, still stuck on Noa and her murderous past.

Noa tensed. She didn’t want to talk about it. Couldn’t. Her breath came harder, and she felt her darkness’s talons begin to smash at her walls. Only this time they were causing it to crumble, brick by brick, and Noa was helpless against the onslaught. She curled her hands into fists and tried to hold on.

Awkward silence stretched thin, until, “Our other sister, Priscilla …” Dinah pushed back her box braids, speaking instead of Noa. “Let’s just say she would fit in with you guys seamlessly. Better than she does with us. She’s the most ruthless killer I’ve ever met. No offense.”

“Interesting. And where is the killer witch now?” Bara asked, eyebrow raised. “Sounds like she’d be a fucking party.”

“Living like a shadow in the outside world,” Dinah said. “That’s all she told us. Pris feels like we abandoned her when we moved away from her vision of how to take the Brethren down. We focus on saving the abused children, not killing the priests who hold them. Don’t get me wrong, we’re not averse to killing them—the world would be better off without them, and no guilt would live within us if we sent those fuckers back to hell. But, ultimately, we chose charity. We discovered some of the local ledgers on our rescues and used their whereabouts against them. We follow a more pacifist approach to put chinks in their armor.”

“But not all of you are pacifist,” Diel said, finally breaking his silence. Noa swallowed at the new inflection in his graveled voice. It was the siren’s call again. The tone, the gruffness, the knowing. He knew who she was, what she was. And he was making his move. Beginning the attack to draw her darkness out. To expose who she really was.

Noa felt her tarnished heart pull toward him, as if her arteries were breaking from her chest and stretching out to entangle with his.

She was a pendulum, swinging too fast between light and dark: She had to fight his pull. But she didn’t want to.

Then, when she faced him, there was a new kind of expression on his face too. He was taunting her.

He was welcoming her darkness home.

It was an explosion, a fucking supernova inside of her as the walls of her fortress took one last blow from the part of her she had repressed, and it flooded through the opening like a plague, smothering the “good” side of her that she had forced herself to adopt over the past couple of years.

Noa closed her eyes, fighting back the urge to groan out loud at the orgasmic sensation of darkness returning to its rightful place at the center of her soul, a reverse diaspora. As her denied half slipped back into place alongside the other like they had never been parted, Noa felt stronger. She breathed easier. She felt lighter.

Noa felt someone watching her. She opened her eyes and found Diel. She found his monster. Noa shifted on her chair, feeling as though a thousand needles were peppering her skin. And when she spoke, only she could hear the changed tone in her voice—it was full-bodied and at full strength. “I guess we all have demons deep down in our souls, don’t we, pretty monster?”

Diel’s smile stretched wide, showing all of his white teeth. He knew. He saw that she was back. Noa’s heart beat at a furious pace, and she felt hot underneath her leather clothes.

Noa shifted on her seat. She bit her lip as a victory cry surged throughout her body at the heady feeling of freedom that came from no longer segregating one part of who she was from the other, from not slicing half of her very essence from her body for the sake of resisting a more violent way of life. Light and dark, good and bad—that yin and yang composition of her soul was who she was to her very core. One wasn’t more important than the other. As the pernicious, monstrous side of her fused with the side that made her feel, she was reborn.

Noa sat back against the dining chair and breathed a clear, deep breath as if she were testing out a fresh pair of lungs. The first true inhale she had taken in years. If Priscilla had been at the table with them, she would have beamed in victory at having her protégé back. At having her little sister by her side—not her sister by blood, but one in understanding, in the shared knowledge that some people’s light was dulled, or in others, completely eclipsed.

“Noa?” Dinah leaned forward so Noa could see her. Noa could hear the concern in Dinah’s voice. Of course she was concerned. She had witnessed this side of Noa before. Dinah had stood by her as Noa had sliced herself in two for the sake of the Coven’s move to peace and non-violence. But Noa had been in pain every day since, rejecting the half of her that had been cast aside out of guilt and shame.

No more.

But Noa didn’t take her eyes off Diel, who had just seen her internal liberation, the monster in him sensing the monster in her. “I’m fine, Dinah.” Noa dug the tip of her nail into the tabletop, gouging out the wood just to feel the stab of pain slice down her finger. “Completely fine.”

Noa’s breathing came quicker, and she saw Diel’s chest rising and falling in tandem with her too-fast speed. His skin was as flushed as hers felt, and his pupils were blown as she knew hers would be too.

A throat cleared, but Diel’s and Noa’s gazes were locked, glued together in a fucked-up trance. “I’ve read the ledger,” Gabriel said, addressing the table. The muscles in Noa’s thighs tensed when she looked at the mass of scars on Diel’s neck, and she squeezed them together for some kind of reprieve.

Diel’s collar began to crackle and his face grew redder, his teeth scraping across his plump bottom lip, bringing the blood to the surface. “We’d love your input on where you think we should start …” Gabriel’s voice faded to a hum of static-laden white noise. Time passed at an ungodly speed as Noa’s eyes stayed locked with Diel’s, tension pulsing like a deep-sea sonar between them.

The rest of the table simply didn’t exist.

Diel’s head began to twitch, and Noa snarled in anger at seeing him so imprisoned by that bastard ring of metal. At seeing his treasured monster so caged when it deserved to be running wild and free, leaving Brethren destruction in its wake. Noa almost groaned just picturing the beautiful scene: spilled Brethren blood drenching Diel’s skin, and their evil souls hanging like capes around his neck.

The sound of chairs scraping backward pulled Noa from their mutual reverie. “Noa, we’re done,” Jo said, penetrating the protective wall Noa had built around herself and Diel. Noa took a deep breath, then broke her gaze from Diel and focused on her sisters. Once again, she quelled the darkness in her veins and adopted the “good” side of her she’d exclusively embraced for the past couple of years.

Dinah caught her eyes as she headed toward Gabriel’s office with him and Maria. “You coming, Noa?” Noa nodded, then turned to Diel, promising him with a single look that she would see him that night in the folly.

Diel’s nostrils flared, the only signal he gave that he had understood, before he turned and climbed the stairs to the upper floor. Jo and Candace were heading back toward the tunnel to their house. Noa tracked Gabriel, but she was only interested in the item he held in his pocket. A silver keyring that boasted an intricate-looking hairpin key and a small black remote.

Noa smiled, eyes on the prize, then followed Dinah into Gabriel’s office, closing the door behind her. As she approached Gabriel’s ornate wooden desk, she felt the Fallen’s leader watching her closely. Gabriel was perceptive, Noa would give him that. His obvious instinct to be wary of her was more than warranted.

Ignoring his scrutiny, Noa pulled out the chair beside Dinah and took her place as the unofficial Coven second beside her. She crossed her arms and waited for the meeting to begin.

Gabriel had the ledger Dinah had loaned him open on his desk. His suspicious eyes fell from Noa and focused on the book. Maria sat quietly beside him, waiting patiently like the good little nun she had been trained to be. “These names …” Gabriel took in a calming inhale.

“Are just the lowest-level Brethren clergymen with children in their homes in this area,” Dinah said. Her hands were clenched on the arms of her chair. Nothing pissed off Noa’s sister more than kids being used as fucktoys for the delusional men in red dog collars.

“It’s their initiation of sorts, to the next level of the organization. To see if they can break a true, devil-born sinner. To see if they are worthy of being part of the elite God squad that is the Brethren,” Dinah added. Noa’s lips curled in repulsion. “There’s more out there. So there has to be some other official record that has more information than this ledger. Factions, sub-departments, the compete hierarchy of the Brethren, from the top of the pyramid to the bottom. There have to be scriptures, gospels and fuck knows what else that they live by. We have no idea where any of that would be, of course. But we believe it’s out there. These fuckers are meticulous in their records, just as the Spanish Inquisition of old were with theirs.”

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed; a second later, his lips parted around a quick exhale. “You’re thinking of setting a trap.”

Dinah cocked her head. “If you’ve read the ledger, you’ve seen that they hold a meeting once a month. To welcome new chosen members and host a ritual.” Dinah shrugged. “I thought paying a visit to such a … gathering might be on the cards.”

Gabriel’s face lost some color. “You plan to kill them.”

Dinah steepled her hands on the table. “I plan to rescue the kids that they put on display.” The air grew frigid around her. “The kids that they bring to this fucked-up communion to lash and exorcise and sacrifice if their ‘God’ so wishes it.” She painted a smile on her face. “Now, what your men deem to be suitable punishment is entirely up to them.”

Gabriel nodded. He was an intelligent man; that much Noa could see. Gabriel glanced at Maria. Maria surprised Noa by straightening her shoulders and lifting her chin. “You know that this is our path.” Maria looked at Noa and Dinah. “The Coven were placed into our lives for a higher reason. We have both agreed what for. It must be to defeat Brethren evil.”

A second later, Gabriel nodded. He got up from the table and moved to a table full of liquor at the side of the room. “Would anyone like a glass?”

“Let me help.” Noa rose to her feet. Gabriel watched her approach with careful eyes, but she sidled up next to him and laid out four glasses on the bar. Gabriel took the decanter of brandy and began to pour. When the last drop had been dealt and he placed the decanter back down, Noa put her hand on his arm. Gabriel appeared startled at her touch, but she forced a small smile and said, “I just want to say thank you, for inviting us here. And for giving us a safe home.”

Gabriel paused for a second, but then smiled at her in return. “It’s my pleasure. To find others like us …” He shook his head, his blond curls falling over his blue eyes. “I can’t express what it means.” He sighed, and when he spoke, his voice was laced with emotion. “I thought we were alone.” Noa felt a flicker of that pain in her chest, but when she pictured Diel, trapped and confused in his metal hell in her mind’s eye, it faded to vapor.

Leaning forward, Noa embraced Gabriel. He stiffened in her arms, but slowly relaxed as she said, “You are most certainly not alone.” Noa pulled back, and before anyone in the room could see, she tucked the keyring she had swiped from Gabriel’s pocket into her own.

Gabriel tapped her on the arm, then held out two brandy glasses for her. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.” Noa took her and Dinah’s glasses back to the table. Dinah’s dark gaze was on Noa as she approached, and it was brimming with suspicion. Noa handed Dinah one glass, then downed the liquid in her own. Her eyes rolled as the intoxicating burn traveled down her esophagus. When she opened her eyes, Dinah was still watching her. Noa smiled wide at her best friend, and she saw Dinah’s eyes narrow.

Gabriel sat back down at the desk. “Dinah, we have another property on the grounds. A few miles from this manor. I was thinking we could have a look today, to see if it’s suitable for the rescued children. It needs some heavy renovations, but if the space is good, it might be suitable to give to the children as a safe place.”

“That’d be great,” Dinah said.

Gabriel drank his brandy. Noa felt someone watching her. As she looked up, her gaze crashed into Maria’s. Maria’s face was angelic. A small smile tugged on Maria’s mouth. Then she sipped at her brandy. Maria sat perfectly straight, just as the Brethren had made Noa and her sisters sit in the Circle.

The years of monastic training were as obvious on Maria as a bell tower on a church. Yet Noa found herself intrigued by the petite nun. Noa sensed the deep-rooted corruption in Raphael, the sexual sadism he clearly craved—the red ring around Maria’s neck showed her that much. But what intrigued her more about the woman was that she was clearly in love with him. And she let him play out his fucked-up fantasies on her perfectly disciplined body.

There was more to the timid long-haired nun than she revealed.

“Do you and your brothers train?” Noa heard Dinah ask Gabriel. She turned her attention back to the Fallen’s leader.

Gabriel nodded. “Every day. It’s part of our daily routine. We have a gym. Exercise helps them keep focused, keep disciplined. Helps them keep our brotherhood’s covenant.”

“Then tomorrow,” Dinah said. “Tomorrow we’ll start training together. We need to be a unit—the Fallen and Coven—before we plan any kind of attack on the Brethren together.”

Gabriel glanced at Maria, then shook his head. “I agree with the idea in principle, but I can’t put you and your sisters in that kind of danger.”

A cold laugh fell from Noa’s mouth. All eyes were on her. “Danger.” She rose from the seat and moved to refill her brandy. She downed another glass, the heat in her stomach only fueling her excitement for her violent date with Diel tonight. She turned, with a third glass full, to see that Gabriel, Maria and Dinah were still watching her. “You’re considerate, Gabriel. But your men are a haphazard group of murderers at best. They pose no danger to me and my sisters.”

Noa’s gaze drifted to the oil painting behind Gabriel’s head. It was of an older man who shared some similar facial features with Gabriel and his brother, Michael. The Fallen had ended up in a government-protected home, with more money than they could spend in several lifetimes, yet they did not know the true strengths of their gifts. Because their respective ways of killing were gifts—devil-created or not, that was of little consequence.

Their decision to turn their murderous intents on the men who’d wronged them was the beginning of the Brethren’s end of days. Kingdoms would rise against kingdoms—the kingdom of the Brethren-abused versus the Brethren themselves. But right now, the Fallen were a motley crew of too many different styles to be effective as a battalion.

“A viper on its own can easily be captured,” Noa said, sauntering back to the others. She sat down, smelling the brandy as she ran the glass under her nose. She loved that smell, that burn. “But a den of vipers—no, a nest of differing venomous snakes, all working in concert?” She shrugged. “No one could stop them. They would cut down anyone in their path.”

Noa glanced at Dinah. Her sister was nodding in agreement. “We may be physically smaller than your men, but we ‘witches’ are organized. We can anticipate every move each other will make, even in battle. My sisters and I are a motherfucking synchronized death squad. The Fallen wouldn’t stand a chance against us. Physical strength and a lust for killing mean nothing if they can’t use their talents cohesively.”

Gabriel sat back in his chair, interlacing his hands over his stomach. Noa could see the apprehension on his face. But she was right. He knew it. They were brothers. A codependent little group, just like the Coven. They were all each other knew. But they killed separately. They were super-soldiers without a unit, or even a commander.

“You gave them a life they could thrive in,” Dinah said, appeasing Gabriel and taking up the mantle of Coven leader once more. “But you’ve only just turned onto a new path from the one you traveled when you escaped Purgatory. And you need to retrain, completely shift your MO if you’re going to succeed.” Excitement flashed across Dinah’s face. She was a born leader and loved a challenge. “Give your brothers to me in regard to fighting. By the time we’re ready for the attack against the Brethren, we’ll be a force to be reckoned with. The Brethren will never see us coming.”

Gabriel closed his eyes, and his mouth moved in prayer. The key and remote to Diel’s collar burned in Noa’s pocket. She glanced at the clock on the wall. She was getting closer to meeting him in the folly, and she could hardly fucking wait.

Gabriel opened his eyes, then at a subtle nod from Maria, he said to Dinah, “Make them unstoppable.” Gabriel swallowed, and to Noa’s eyes it looked almost painful, like everything within him was trying to stop him from speaking his next words. “If the only way to stop the Brethren is to see them dead, then may it be them who meets God first, not my brothers. I won’t see us destroyed. Not after everything we’ve fought to have.”

Noa felt a pull in her gut at the strain on Gabriel’s face. She glanced between Dinah, Maria and Gabriel and, in that moment, saw them as one and the same. Gabriel then addressed Noa. “I know you believe them inferior fighters to yourselves. That may be so, but please be careful tomorrow. Some of them are more violent than I think you know.”

Noa smiled wide. “Oh, I hope so.” She leaned forward. “I want to see them all for exactly who they are. Every fang and drip of poison they possess—the cobras, the vipers, the mambas and the taipans. All the toxic venom they can bring.”

Noa’s thoughts immediately drifted to Diel. She wanted him unleashed most of all. She wanted to see her pretty blue-eyed monster in all his deadly glory. After tonight, she never wanted him to hide any part of himself ever again.

“And you?” Dinah asked Gabriel, bringing Noa back into the here and now.

Gabriel sighed. He seemed to understand the vague but loaded question. He shifted his legs, like something had just bitten into his thigh. His spine was rigid and his mouth grew tight as if his body was working through the pain. “I will fight too.” Gabriel’s hands were white-knuckled on the arm of the chair as he spoke. Maria’s hand gently covered his, and he seemed to pull himself together. The priest was hiding something. Noa knew it. She didn’t know what. But it brought him pain. Whatever it was, it caused the priest to be in the utmost discomfort. “If my brothers fight, I will be fighting right beside them. That has always been our way. I will train with you all tomorrow. And I will also yield to your instruction.”

Dinah nodded. Gabriel drank the rest of his brandy in one quick swallow. When he placed the glass back down on the table, he spoke to Dinah. “Let me take you to the old groundskeeper’s home. If you think it would be big enough for the children, we can start making arrangements for the renovations, and their permanent move here.”

Dinah stood, and Noa could feel the excitement dripping off her sister. Dinah only ever wanted the children cared for and educated, a place for them to simply be safe. “Noa? You coming?”

“No,” Noa said. “You go ahead.” Dinah nodded slowly. She wore a suspicious expression, but, too eager to see the kids’ potential home, she and Gabriel left the office. As Maria stood to follow them too, Noa asked, “He strangles you? Raphael.” Maria froze, a bright blush instantly coating her pale cheeks.

“Not to cause me pain,” she replied after a few silent seconds, her voice steady. Noa tried to assess the small woman, but she was difficult to read. Noa went to ask her more, but Maria beat her to it. “My relationship with Raphael may not be the norm—far from it. But I love him beyond words, and he loves me.” Her chin lifted high, proud to love a killer as she did, and Noa nodded in approval of Maria’s fight.

Maria went to leave the room but paused beside Noa. Maria’s blue gaze fell to Noa’s dark brown stare. “None of the Fallen men are as tough as you may think—” Maria shook her head. “I apologize. You have been put through unspeakable things too. I have no right to cast judgment your way or even assume anything about your past.”

Noa raised her eyebrow. Maria sighed. “What I am trying to say is I have been around them all long enough to know some of who they are. And I know Raphael inside and out. He and his brothers may be hardened by the abuse they faced, may use their love of killing to show the world that they are tough and strong and need nothing from anybody. But inside … deep down inside, they are still the hurt little boys who were orphaned, then plunged into an unimaginable hell. By people who were meant to protect them.” Maria’s heavy-weighted but softly spoken words pulsed in the air around them.

Then Noa flinched as Maria covered her hand with her own. Noa stared at that pale hand holding hers and felt something in her heart begin to crack. She quickly stopped that crack before it could get too wide and rip her chest open. Noa yanked her hand back and placed it on her knee. Maria didn’t seem offended by the refusal of her attempt at kindness.

“I am here for you too, Noa,” Maria said. “For all of your sisters. I do not know what you went through at the hands of the Brethren, but I know what it is to be taken from your family and hurt by people who have nothing but wickedness in their souls.”

Maria smiled, and Noa felt that genuine smile like a punch to the gut. “Even if all you need is silent company or an ear to listen to your troubles, I’m here. It’s nice to have sisterhood back in my life.” She pushed back her extremely long hair. “I may not be a practicing novitiate anymore, but I still take my teachings seriously. I still live to serve, albeit on a road rough in terrain and far less traveled. But there is nothing you could confess that could turn me from you. If you are to be part of our family, I want you to know that my door is always open to you. This is an estate filled with survivors, warriors who have made it through a bloody war.” Maria’s gaze shone. “But not even the strongest among us can fight through something like that and not be somewhat wounded. Talking can help.”

With that, Maria left the office … and sent Noa reeling. Had anyone in her life ever offered her anything simply out of the goodness of their heart? Noa’s eyes closed as she tried to calm her thundering pulse. But not even the strongest among us can fight through something like that and not be somewhat wounded. She felt her hand shaking on her thigh and gritted her teeth when a flash of a memory came barreling into her mind … Noa, sitting on an older woman’s lap, tarot cards spread around them, a fragrant cup of tea in her hand, and a blazing fire before them, keeping them warm.

An ember of the warmth from that fire broke from Noa’s memory and flooded her body. She smelled lavender and patchouli drifting around her like a soothing aura. She saw the moon full and blue and high in the sky, felt fresh grass under the soles of her feet. There was soft, rhythmic chanting around them, and then the woman began to sing about the wind and rain. But the warmth in Noa’s body cooled as that softly singing voice cut to a deafening scream, filled with pain and fear. Then came the low tone of violent male voices …

Noa opened her eyes and jumped to her feet. Her breathing was erratic, and her chest felt as though a crater had been carved into the flesh. She shook her head, expelling the unwanted feelings from her body. As they had been so many times before, the cracks that had managed to fissure inside her were covered with granite and stopped dead in their tracks. Noa turned to the door, but as she did, she felt wetness on her cheeks. She lifted her hand to her face.

Tears.

Tears were useless, a pathetic sign of weakness. So Noa straightened her spine, took a deep breath, and wiped those tears dry.