Jegudiel (Deadly Virtues 2)

The old priest’s office was silent as Noa locked herself inside. She stared at the door that led to the main body of the church. She held the knife in her hand and tucked the Tiger’s Eye crystal back in her pouch.

The calmness Noa felt surprised her as it began to flow through her veins. She had retrieved the ledger. Beth would see it home. The Brethren would never even know it had gone. Noa couldn’t explain it, but in that moment she smelled patchouli and lavender cocooning her—she sensed her grandmother’s presence standing beside her. And Noa smiled, imagining Beth rushing to the line of trees, running home with the ledger.

Diel would find Cara.

Noa closed her eyes and spread her arms wide. In the distance, she heard the feet of the priests closing in. Good. She needed them to focus on her. She needed to give Beth time to run away, to get the ledger back to Diel. Her armor cracked as she thought of Diel, of him discovering what she had done without telling any of them of her plans.

But that crack sealed when she thought of him seeing Cara’s name in that ledger, proof that she was alive. That his sister hadn’t perished. One day they would be reunited. They would find each other.

Noa smiled wider, feeling warmth envelop her body. And, drawing on the teachings of her grandmother, she kept her arms spread and said, “Goddess, I draw on the elements—earth, wind, fire, water and the aether. I draw on them to wrap around me, shield me from the evil forces that threaten to bring me harm. I draw on them to hold me in their embrace and fill me with strength.” As the protection spell fell from Noa’s lips, she felt the final part of her broken spirit slot back into place, making her whole—the last fallen brick slid firmly back where it belonged.

Hushed voices grew louder, then those ever-moving footsteps landed at a stop outside the door. But Noa’s hands were still spread wide, the spell still slipping from her lips. “Goddess, I ask you to fill me with your courage, to fill me with light.” The door to the office burst open, and strong hands grabbed her outstretched arms.

“Witch.” Spit hit her cheek, but she kept her eyes shut.

Noa inhaled, exhaled. “Mote it be!”

The hand that sliced across her face made her head snap to the side, a crude and painful culmination to her protection spell. Her eyes slowly opened, and when she lifted her throbbing face, she saw Father Auguste right before her, eyes darkening with rage. “Witch,” he hissed. The twin priests held her arms wide, locked, as if she were tied to a cross. Noa tasted blood in her mouth. But her resolve did not break. She recalled her grandmother as the priests came for her in the forest, the strength and courage she’d possessed as she fought for Noa to get free.

And Noa felt that same strength fill her. She felt centuries of persecuted women filling her with the same boldness, the same courage that had been displayed by her people for hundreds of years. And Noa smiled. As Auguste visibly lost his grip on his anger, Noa smiled wider. She smiled because she was there, carrying the same faith as those who had been cut down before her. They died, were put through hell at the hands of the forefathers of these Brethren men, yet their treasured pagan ways remained. Witches remained against the odds, just like Noa and her sisters. Just as, Noa knew, they would survive even after Auguste had disposed of her too.

Though they might try, Noa knew then that with all the power and will in the world, the Brethren could never destroy Mother Earth herself. In the end, these misogynistic men could not break women.

Another hand across Noa’s face was her reward, then Auguste gripped her chin and pulled her face forward to hover a millimeter before his. “What’s so humorous, witch?”

“You,” Noa replied, mocking clear in her tone.

Auguste’s nails dug into her cheeks. Blood sprouted from her splitting skin. “I’m going to break you,” he promised, darkness lacing his graveled voice.

“You never will.” Noa knew those words were true. Because she knew who she was. And nothing the Brethren could do would ever take that from her.

But Auguste’s vicious grin promised Noa that he would do his very best to destroy her spirit.

With a firm nod from Auguste in the direction of the door to Perdition, the twins wrenched Noa forward. She was dragged down to the lower level and delivered into the room that had once held so much trauma for her. The place where Auguste had once tried to beat and torture the witch from her bones. The place where Noa believed he actually had, that he’d made her ashamed of her family’s bloodline.