And June…she was trembling.
“The veil isthintonight, brothers and sisters,” Abel was saying, the rattlesnake’s tongue flicking out as he held it up, its sinuous body moving slowly. “The old spirits stir. We are standing on sacred ground, consecrated by fire.”
I held June closer, tighter—and in the pocket of her dress, I could feel the heat of the spell bottle, though I couldn’t make sense of it. This…whatever we were witnessing, it was far worse and far more dangerous than we’d expected.
“We should get out of here,” Beau was saying. “Miss Evers, Miss Farber, Miss Calhoun—let’s go back to the truck?—”
They started to back out, Jamie with them. No…this had been a mistake. I needed to get June out. I gripped her hand, trying to tug her with me.
But shestepped forward.
She was listening.
It made the world seem real again, a little less sinister. June was here…strong, smart, protected. And Amelia had to be present somehow. I knew that.
We were safe.
Nothing was going to happen.
I looked back at Beau and saw the same look on his face that I’m sure was on mine…a look that told me he’d also been confused. The women didn’t seem to share his sentiment, giving him a look like he was truly insane for wanting to get them out of there.
And June—she was taking another step forward, down the center aisle…going toward the middle row of folding chairs.
Taking a seat.
All I could do was join her, watching as Abel reacted. He was the one who was confused now—like he had no idea why his little stunt wasn’t working. June just sat down like she was politely occupying a pew, spine straight, legs neatly crossed at the ankle.
The spell…it wasn’t working the way Abel wanted, not on June or the church ladies, anyway.
Whatever God he was calling on? Women didn’t hear it the same way.
Abel raised his voice, eyes fixed on June now. “You feel it, don’t you?” he asked the crowd. “The power movin’ through this space. The tremblin’! The fire comin’ back to life!”
A few of his congregants started mumbling again, but June just sat politely, watching, listening. Abel turned in a slow, sweeping circle, sweat beading at his temples as the snake writhed around his wrist.
“This place is alive!” he bellowed. “The veil is thin. We are walking where the saints have walked, where the martyrs have burned…where the good folk of Willow Grove have for hundreds of years prayed to our righteous God!”
He pointed his free hand at June, one accusing finger jabbed at her like a weapon.
“And this woman, this Jezebel, thinks to come here and call herself holy.”
I hadn’t felt a reaction from her since the beginning of the whole ordeal, but the termJezebelseemed to get to her. Goosebumps rose on June’s arms, her chin lifting.
Still, she didn’t say a word.
But Abel caught the thread and pulled.
“Yeah,” he muttered, quieter now, almost to himself. “Jezebel.Harlot. She wears white, but her soul is black with sin…she comes wrapped in silk and Scripture, but she’s anointed with blood!”
The snake writhed again, agitated, head shifting toward his shoulder. Abel barely noticed.
“She whispers to weak men, and they follow her—just like Adam followed Eve! She is temptation made flesh, a curse upon this place, a danger to all of us!”
He was sweating now, full sheen under the floodlights.His congregation writhed…but they seemed smaller, less threatening.
Because when I looked over my shoulder, there were more people inside.
People fromour town.
