Fane reacted as if he were a bull seeing red and forced Elliot to take a step forward. Before he could meet Beast’s fist, Knight grabbed Elliot’s arms and pulled him back.
“Get your hands off me!” Fane hissed through Elliot’s lips. His entire attention was focused on Laurent, and the heat of unadulterated hate was burning the back of Elliot’s tongue. “You will regret what you’ve done! I will peel away your skin and leave you to rot alive.”
The priest opened the Bible, somewhat fidgety in the way he handled the thin pages. His plain features became sharper with worry, but despite the tremor in his voice, he wasn’t running. “Shall we proceed?”
Beast’s lip curled. “The sooner the better.”
Fane snarled, channeling his anger through Elliot’s body as he thrashed in Knight’s arms, just for the sake of pulling on Elliot’s joints. “He cannot get rid of me. You know he can’t. All you useless cunts will bleed out on the altar of my revenge. You just wait until my gargoyle grows big enough to do my bidding again! He will rip you apart and burn your bodies in his flames.”
The priest took half a step back, and his wrinkled face drained of color in the pale light of the high-beam flashlight resting on the mantelpiece. “I—have you consulted a doctor before you came to me?”
Laurent frowned and opened a thick book. “Father, you have agreed to aid us in this procedure. The evil force living inside of this man could take him over completely any day now. We don’t have time to waste.”
Elliot screamed out, and Fane thrashed around with so much force a nasty pop came from his elbow joint when Knight had to pull him back. Elliot cried out in pain and shook his head, shutting his eyes when the world spun around him. This dark room would not only be the place of Fane’s death but his own as well. The realization hit him with the force of a truck, and a sob tore out of his chest.
“Get him down!” Beast urged Knight, pointing to a mattress they must have brought in here for the purpose.
Knight pushed Elliot to the springy mattress, his forehead wrinkled in a deep frown as he looked down at Elliot, holding him by the wrists. “It’ll be fine,” he promised against the background noise of the priest explaining that he wasn’t an exorcist and had only come round to perform a blessing.
Fane laughed, squatting by the wall and watching their visitor with amusement twinkling in his cool eyes. “Only the devil has power in this house.”
Elliot whined at the pain in his elbow, which grew more persistent due to struggling against Knight’s strength. “Leave me alone!”
Fane rose and pressed his shoe against Elliot’s shoulder. “Oh, no, my boy. You’re trying to get rid of me. Where are your promises of undying love now?”
“I was confused!” Elliot cried, not even caring anymore that he would sound like a madman, talking to himself. At least everyone apart from the priest knew what was happening. Laurent’s voice was monotone when he started reciting passages Elliot couldn’t understand, but the priest soon joined in, so it must have been some kind of prayer. The vicar spoke in a tight voice, so tense it seemed the joints of his fingers would crack through skin any minute.
But Elliot focused on Knight’s face, on the messy hair that hung above him, so close it could soothingly brush against Elliot’s skin any moment. Knight glanced back at Beast, who watched the whole thing unfold with a severe expression that said precisely nothing, and then back to Elliot.
“Is it working?”
The priest chose this moment to sprinkle holy water all over, and Fane roared with laughter, suddenly turning around to face the wall. Elliot was stunned into silence, breathless when Fane put his foot flat against the wall and casually walked toward the ceiling, as if gravity had no influence over him.
Elliot slumped to the mattress. “It’s not.” His throat felt raw from all the yelling, and only now he realized that for a brief moment he did hope the priest could force Fane out of his body. Now this glimmer of hope was gone, buried deep beneath piles of broken promises and miserable memories.
Fane glared at Elliot from the ceiling, as if to mock him with his ridiculous position. Defying gravity completely, he didn’t even need to adjust his coat. It stayed in place as if the surface beneath his feet was yet another floor. “You and me will need to have a serious conversation, Elliot. Be prepared. I won’t be gentle with you this time, you ungrateful man.”
The two voices turned into a murmured chant so hypnotizing Elliot stiffened when cold droplets of holy water sprinkled his cheeks. The priest slowly got to one knee, leaning closer to Elliot with his face set into a pale grimace even as he continued his prayers. An earthy fragrance teased Elliot’s nostrils just before the priest touched his forehead, making a cross with a damp finger. It did nothing. Minutes stretched, and hope gradually drained out of Elliot as he watched Fane study him with a mocking smirk stretching his face.