Jegudiel (Deadly Virtues 2)

A floorboard creaked behind them. Maria looked over Gabriel’s shoulder and smiled. Gabriel turned and saw Raphael waiting in the doorway. He held a rose in his hand, turning the stem in slow circles, a small smile on his face. Maria made a move toward her lover, but she stopped beside Gabriel and said, “There is a widely held belief in modern theology that Jesus was actually married to Mary Magdalene.” She laughed gently. “I’m sure you know that, as well read as you are.”

Gabriel’s heart beat faster at that. He wasn’t sure why. He nodded. He had read several arguments for the theory. Maria shrugged. “If that were true, it would make the need for priests to be celibate and unmarried to another person moot, no? It could perhaps allow them not to be so lonely. Perhaps allow them to fall in love, to be happy.” Maria kissed Gabriel’s cheek. She was the sister he’d never had. She had become his best friend.

Gabriel watched as Maria went to Raphael. His brother’s handsome face lit up when she sank into his arms as if Raphael’s hold had been made just for her. Raphael kissed her lips, then tucked the rose behind her ear, and together they made their way outside.

Gabriel remained staring at that doorway for quite some time after they had left, Maria’s parting words still circling around his head.

Chapter 20

Noa tightened her belt and moved her hood into place. She didn’t pull the scarf over her nose and mouth; she would do that in the van before they arrived at the Brethren meeting.

She stared back at herself in the mirror. It had been too long since she had donned this hood. Excitement pulsed through her, an electronic dance beat energizing her body to fight. She strapped her knives to her belt, left her room, and joined her sisters in the kitchen.

“Like old times,” Dinah said, catching Noa’s nostalgic smirk.

Noa looked at her sisters. “Only one witch missing.”

“Do you think she’d come back, now that we’re with the Fallen? Now that our objective is to fight the Brethren head on like she always wanted?” Beth asked.

Priscilla. The sister Noa wished would return home.

“She could be exactly who she wants to be,” Candace said.

“Have you called her lately?” Dinah asked Noa.

Noa nodded. “Left a voicemail on her burner cell as always.” She took a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and downed its contents. “She knows everything. I told her what we were doing, planning. I told her about the Fallen brotherhood, how they had become our allies … and for me, more.” Noa’s thoughts strayed to Diel. Her heart fell. His regression therapy haunted her, his broken voice as he walked them all through what he was seeing. His godawful childhood …

Noa cleared her throat and put a halt to the eager wash of darkness surging through her body. She was saving that wickedness for tonight. Because Noa would be joining the Fallen. She would be spilling blood. She would be cutting those fuckers down where they stood for all the crimes they had committed against her sisters, against her, against Diel.

Dinah flicked her chin at her sisters. “Let’s go, ladies.”

The Coven cut through the underground tunnel to the main house. When they entered the hallway, the Fallen were already there. Dinah whistled low as they came into view. The brothers turned. They were in leather too, shirts and pants tailored for their male physiques. But they shared the same hoods and face coverings as the Coven, the same black leather gloves.

“Looking good, guys,” Dinah said.

“Oh, we know, head witch,” Bara retorted, eyebrows dancing. A disturbing flicker of evil shone proudly in his eyes, his green irises seeming brighter than usual.

Noa cast her attention over the Fallen, her sisters. Tonight, the Brethren would have no idea who they were, who knew exactly what secret sect lived under the cover of the wider Catholic Church. Who planned to destroy them.

The key to their attacks was anonymity. No one could see their faces. Their attacks must be done in such a way that they couldn’t be traced.

Noa’s eyes found Diel standing beside Sela. Like the Coven, the Fallen had yet to cover their faces. Heat spread through Noa at the sight of him in leather. Diel’s eyes were alert and focused, full of energy for their upcoming kills.

Noa sauntered toward him; he watched her every step. He rarely took his attention from her these days. Diel reached for her, threaded his arm around her waist and pulled her against his chest. He crushed his mouth to hers.

When he withdrew, Noa pressed her hand to his stubbled cheek. “Hello, pretty monster.” She traced her finger down his leather-covered chest and further down. He grunted when the tip of her finger brushed over his cock. “I like you in leather.”