Jegudiel (Deadly Virtues 2)

The man still stared at her skin, which was marred black with the Coven’s brand. “My sisters and I were taken from the safety of our families by the Brethren.” His blue eyes flashed to hers, and he studied her face as if searching for any sign of deception. “We were deemed heretics.”

She swallowed and felt the swirl of anger beginning in her gut. “They told us we were born evil. They told us darkness ran in our veins.” The man’s head twitched over and over again, his eyes blinked in exaggerated movements. The collar buzzed, but he didn’t strike. He kept Noa locked in place, but he didn’t strike …

He was listening to her.

“They said we were evil witches.” Noa laughed, but there was no humor in her tone. “The devil’s whores.” Noa stopped her voice shaking from rage as she said, “And we were tried. For years we lived in what we knew as the Circle. The sixth circle of hell where heretics dwell. That’s what they told us, the Brethren. And we were tried and punished for turning from the faith, for being Satan’s agents on earth. For the sins of our forebearers.”

His breathing was stuttered, but he had lost the anger that contorted his beautiful features. He was listening closely, gaze drifting back and forth between her face and the brand on her torso.

“They called themselves the Witch Finders. The Brethren priests that specialized in ‘purging our souls of demons’ were called the Witch Finders, and their task in life was exorcising us. That’s it. Their entire life was dedicated to breaking us. Seven young girls. Until we got free.” Noa hated that her eyes filled with hot tears as she thought of those men—not men, demons. Demons disguised as holy men.

The man suddenly released Noa as if she carried the plague, and he stumbled away. His collar hummed, and his head twitched, but gone was the possessed man wanting to do nothing but kill. Confusion and shock flashed across his face instead.

“Now we find them,” Dinah said, walking closer to them. The man’s head whipped to Dinah and Noa’s sisters, who were poised and ready to fight the man in the mouth of the cave. “We track them down and free the children they are holding in their homes.”

The man’s eyebrows drew down in confusion. “The children?” he snapped, eyes twitching.

“Children they are personally exorcising. Like we were exorcised.” Dinah nodded to the other sisters. One by one they opened or removed their shirts. They wore bras and sports tops underneath, unlike Noa, but each of them revealed the identical brands to the man. He stared at them as the Coven’s pentagrams and Saint Peter’s crosses were displayed.

“They’re as strong as ever,” Noa said, and the man refocused on her. “In fact, the Brethren, they’re even stronger. There are many of them. So many …” Noa closed her eyes, taking a moment to compose herself, to swallow down the hellfire igniting in her soul. She covered her exposed breasts with her shirt and opened her eyes. “We knew, somewhere, there had to be more survivors like us. That we couldn’t have been the only ones the ‘holy purging’ was done to. And we couldn’t be the only ones who’d managed to get away from their clutches.” Noa looked at her sisters, who were re-dressing, then turned back to the man. “When we saw the Brethren brand on you last night, we had to take you.”

Noa approached the man. His head was still twitching. Noa had never met anyone like him. He looked on the brink of killing her, like whatever lived inside of him was constantly fighting for dominance. “What’s your name?”

The man stared at Noa. He swallowed hard, hesitated, but then rasped, “Diel.”

“Diel?”

His neck corded as if he was battling to keep it together. “Jegudiel,” he added.

“An archangel.” Dinah sent a subtle glance to Noa. Noa turned back to Diel as Dinah said, “Jegudiel is an archangel.”

Diel nodded, glancing down at his bloodied hands. His fingers flexed, then curled into fists. He backed away from Dinah, who edged closer. His nostrils flared. He held out his hand. “Get back!” he snarled.

“Did they give you that name?” Noa asked, unperturbed by the threat in his voice. When Diel’s focus moved back to her, his shoulders seemed to lose a fraction of their tension. Something warmed inside her chest at that observation.

Diel nodded. His gaze lowered to the remote in her hands. “Turn it down,” he growled.

“You need to breathe,” Noa said, and Diel’s eyes narrowed. She had watched him calm himself before. He had breathed deeply and beaten whatever it was that was pushing to be freed within him. “We’re not the enemy. We want what you want—”

“I want them fucking dead!” he suddenly roared, but just as he was about to pounce, the collar buzzed, and he started to breathe deeply, slowly, calmingly. There wasn’t a muscle in his body that wasn’t pulled taut or a vein that wasn’t protruding. His chest rose and fell as his blue eyes slipped shut and he breathed.