Chapter 17

Chapter 17

“Again!”Father August shouted, and he watched as his Witch Finders started the drill again. He shook his head at their ineptness, their lack of understanding of the complex moves. Auguste marched forward, grabbed the newest priest by his arm, and threw him to the ground. “Get up,” he spat. The fledgling priest crawled to his feet. His face was pale, and Auguste could practically smell the fear pulsing off him, as putrid as week-old milk.

Auguste sliced his hand across the back of the priest’s cheek, and with a kick to his stomach, the young man fell to the ground, groaning in pain. Auguste’s fists shook with disappointment and rage. He looked at the rest of his Witch Finders. Father Quinn had sent more recruits for Auguste to train; fear of another attack plagued his mentor’s mind.

But these men …

“Is this it?” Auguste said, arms held wide. The recruits were sweating, gasping for breath. They were unfit and right now did not have what it would take to withstand an attack from the Fallen. Father Quinn’s ruined face was evidence of that. “Is this the best we Brethren can offer against evil?”

Auguste felt his lip curl in disgust. He would not let his little brother’s fellow heathens best him and the centuries-old organization that had secretly stopped the world from going to shit too many times to count.

Auguste was the Brethren Witch Finder General of Massachusetts. He had been given the much-covetedposition due to his devotion to the Brethren cause. He policed his city against sinners, protected it from the devil and his many, never-ending demons.

He would not fail now.

“Again!” he shouted. The rain started to pour on their heads, dark clouds circling above like vultures. Auguste didn’t care if they all got pneumonia. He wasn’t letting them go until they could fight, until they could ensure the Brethren victory over its enemies.

Let God spare the strong and rid the world of the weak. Because he knew the Fallen were coming again. And this time, when they attacked, the Brethren would not be caught off guard. They would be ready, God’s agents armed with truth and good on their side, and hearts that would see the denizens of hell sent back from where they came.

“I said again!”