Ivan taps the suitcase with one finger, almost thoughtful. “You understand that me coming here, it’s a sign of good faith. I could have sent someone. They would have made my point very clear.”
Leader Allen leans forward, his face twisted in anger. “This is holy land. God would never let you harm this place.”
“He told you that, did he? Well, as it turns out, I have no intention of harming this place. I’m a reasonable man, and there are women and children here.” He pauses. “I don’t like when women are threatened, you understand.”
Leader Allen smiles at me, and my heart drops. “I would never harm a woman,” he says. “For they are my flock, and under my protection. But a demon, a demon needs to be driven out.”
“Does it?” Ivan says mildly.
Leader Allen doesn’t know him well enough to recognize the threat in his voice, but I do.
Ivan flicks the lock on the suitcase and steps back. Luca does the same, and without knowing why, I step back too. In a smooth motion Ivan opens the lid, and blood comes spilling out of it. But not the pristine smooth red from before. This blood has turned blackish. It’s mixed with gravel and brick and coagulated lumps, a horrifying mixture that spills out onto Leader Allen’s wooden desk.
He pushes back his chair with a rough sound. I’m surprised he doesn’t stand up. Blood spills over the desk but manages to miss his white robes.
Ivan circles the desk slowly, a predator toying with his prey. “How did she pass, Allen?”
The way he says Leader Allen’s name is mockingly casual, as if they’re two friends instead of enemies.
Leader Allen makes a hacking sound. I can’t tell whether it’s involuntary or a sign of his derision. “Her sins finally caught up to her. I tried to save her—”
“I bet you did,” Ivan mutters, looking down with a cold expression. In one move he pulls the back of the chair up, and Leader Allen sprawls on the floor.
Fear flashes across Leader Allen’s face, although he tries to mask it. He’s collapsed, feet slipping uselessly against the whitewashed floors. Then his expression turns hard, a gleaming light in his rheumy eyes. “I don’t have much time left anyway. Pancreatic cancer. If you kill me, it will only make me a martyr.”
“Maybe you don’t care about your own life,” Ivan says, “but I’m sure you care about your flock.”
Leader Allen laughs. “Take them then. Kill them. Fuck them.”
I hear a small gasp from behind me, and faintly, I realize that Sarah Elizabeth is still outside the door.
Ivan seems to consider this. Even from across the room, I can see when he comes to the conclusion that Leader Allen is telling the truth—that he’s dying soon. That he doesn’t care about the people here. Which means Ivan doesn’t have any leverage for making him stop.
The decision comes to him suddenly, swiftly. He pulls his gun from the holster, and I gasp.
“No,” I whisper. I promised not to speak, but I can’t stand here and watch this. “He…he couldn’t have. Look at him. He can’t get up.”
“Then he sent someone.” Ivan’s expression doesn’t soften. If anything, he seems to grow right in front of my eyes. I always thought Leader Allen was godlike, but Ivan looks terrifying and all-powerful. “I don’t give a fuck how he managed to do it. In fact I don’t really care if he did. He hurt you. That’s more than enough reason to kill him.”
Something inside me withers at his words. I told him that Leader Allen looked at me, spoke inappropriate words to me, groomed me, but I never told him he touched me too.
I never wanted him to know.
The knot in my throat makes it hard to speak. “How did you—”
“I suspected when you first told me what happened. I knew for sure when I saw the way he looks at you. And the way you look at him.”
My gaze snaps to Leader Allen. How am I looking at him? With disgust? With fear? Both of those, but I suspect there’s something else in my eyes. Something that Ivan knows very well—worship. The lessons were too well taught, too deeply carved in my soul to be completely forgotten. Even if I’ve learned to hate him, there’s a part of me that will always revere him.
The sound of a gun being cocked slices through me. It’s not Ivan’s gun. It came from behind me.
I whirl to see Sarah Elizabeth holding a rifle. My heart nearly stops. She’s pointing it toward Ivan. I didn’t think she had it in her—didn’t think she would even know how to use a rifle—but then maybe protecting her leader has given her courage. I’m not sure if she’ll hit him. A gun like that will have a big kick, and she looks too thin, too waiflike to even hold it up. But I can’t take the risk.
I’m the
closest to her, only a couple feet away, and I calmly step in front of the rifle. “You don’t want to do this,” I tell her softly. “He’s not your enemy.”
Her eyes are wild, pupils so large I wonder if she’s on something. Even though that’s impossible. Drugs are for the outside world, not the purity of the hills. “I have to. This is my only chance. Move out of the way.”