Jegudiel (Deadly Virtues 2)

She walked down the tunnel to the main room. When she walked through the door, all her sisters were dressed the same as she was and ready to go. Her gaze fell to Beth and Naomi. Beth stood in all black leather, braid in place, taser and knives in hand as if she hadn’t just been writhing on her bed, convinced her blood was poisoning her internal organs.

Naomi stood beside Beth, hair and clothes the same as everyone else’s.

“Noa,” Dinah said, and Noa took up her place beside her. For the past couple of years, it had been Dinah at the helm, Noa her right hand. They couldn’t have been more different. If Dinah was a calm and steady sea, Noa was the oncoming storm, made of crashing waves and unrelenting tides. Candace and Joanna were the brains, the intelligence, the thinking part of their sisterhood. Beth and Naomi were the hearts. The two that reminded Noa that there was still sweetness and good in the world when all she had tasted was bitterness and sourness.

Dinah leaned on the table they had all gathered around. This was their War Room, Dinah joked, giving a nod to the War of Independence spies that would have gathered hundreds of years ago in this very spot, plotting against the British. But Noa and her sisters’ enemies were a lot less overt than the British Army had been. Their war was being fought in secret, only six of them against what they knew were thousands in a dangerous secret sect. Seven of us, Noa corrected herself. Because there was one more sister that made up the Coven, as Father Auguste and his Witch Finder Generals had nicknamed Noa and her sisters years ago, branding their chests with pentagrams in mocking and ridicule. Seven sisters who had cried and screamed together as they were relentlessly tested and tried.

But where Noa, Dinah, Candace, Jo, Naomi and Beth had found a path that helped them heal somewhat as they tried to bring down the Brethren in a less bloodthirsty way, Priscilla was on her own path, one of destruction and death—revenge served cold and brutal.

Dinah had a map on the table with five locations marked with small rocks. “There are five of them,” Dinah said. “All in close proximity, each holding one or more boys.”

Noa crossed her arms over her chest as she glared at those rocks. Dinah nudged her chin at Noa. Noa stepped up to the table. “We move fast. One after the other.” She looked to Candace. “You’re driving, as always. Jo is on lookout.” Noa nodded at Beth and Naomi. “You two get the victims out.” She glanced at Dinah.

“We’ll take care of the priests,” Dinah said. “Questions?”

“The victims? They’re going to Katie?” Candace asked.

“For now,” Dinah said. “There’s no more room there, and we always knew it was temporary. We need to find a better solution, and fast.” Dinah moved to stand beside Noa. “The funds Noa got us tonight will go a long way toward helping with that.” But Noa knew it wasn’t only money that was a hurdle for them. It was also the people to help them, people who would take care of the kids once they were freed. People who believed them, and who wouldn’t be found by the Brethren, or worse, go to them themselves.

Noa saw the worry on her sisters’ faces—she knew it was probably a reflection of her own. This had become their purpose for living. Noa didn’t know who she was without it. None of them did. If they couldn’t save others from the Brethren, then what was the point?

“Let’s go,” Dinah said, cutting through the concerned tension in the room. Dinah led them down the tunnel and to the entrance. The second they reached the tunnel’s mouth, the sisters put their hoods over their heads, pulling the scarves over their faces so only their eyes could be seen. The frigid chill of the night bit at their leather clothes as they reached the van and climbed inside.

Candace and Jo took up the front seats, Candace driving. Noa and the others sat in the back. The van was silent as they drove the thirty minutes to the first home. When they arrived, the house was in pitch black, secluded and perfect for a retrieval. Dinah met Noa’s eyes and nodded.

They climbed out of the van and rushed through the shadows toward the house. Candace and Jo stayed behind, as was their role, and Noa, Dinah, Naomi and Beth moved to the back door. Dinah checked for alarms—there were none. Noa reached into her pocket and pulled out a needle. In seconds, the lock broke and they all piled in, silent as night itself. Noa and Dinah broke away from Naomi and Beth. The former pair ran upstairs to the priest’s bedroom, the latter to the cellar where the Brethren tended to hold their victims.