I whipped my head around. Jane cowered against the altar, cradling Connor in her breast. Looming over her, holding a long bone blade in her hand and reaching for Connor, was Sheryl Brownley.
What now?
“Stay away from her!” I sprinted across the buckling floors as it tossed me off balance. I half leapt, half-fell into Sheryl, knocking her to the ground. We wrestled over the knife.
Sheryl clawed at my face, raking long nails down my cheeks. I bent her hand back until tears pooled in her eyes and her fingers loosened. She was definitely human, then.
I grabbed the blade and held it to her throat.
She simply smiled. “Go on,witch. Spill my blood on the steps of this altar. It does not matter. The fae king has his sacrifice.”
Corbin appeared by my side. Long cuts crossed his arms as he reached for Sheryl. My heart soared.He’s alive.He dragged Sheryl to her feet, shaking her shoulders.
“What have you done?” he demanded, his eyes flashing with barely controlled rage.
“Nothing you wouldn’t have done had you been in my shoes, dearie,” Sheryl answered pleasantly, as if we were discussing the proper method for making a pot of tea. “Delivering that whore Aline Moore’s daughter into their hands would have been the ultimate triumph. But alas, she has been baptised, and so they cannot touch her…for now.”
“What do you mean, they cannot touch me?” It didn’t make any sense. I’d always been baptised and the fae had handled me before in their realm. They had dragged me in front of Daigh. So why did touching me burn them up now?
But Sheryl ignored my question. She lifted her chin high, proud and defiant even as Corbin tightened his grip on her. “You can’t hold them back forever. It’s only a matter of time before your coven falls. You made the wrong choice by rejecting your father, Maeve Moore. I, on the other hand, will be rewarded for my loyalty.”
“You did this?” Corbin blinked. He didn’t believe her.
But I did.
It was too perfect. Sheryl had arranged the baptism for us. She had all the parish records and knew all the local gossip. She be able to learn the identity of every newborn child who wouldn’t be receiving a baptism.
She watched Connor from thestart.
“Of course I did this, dear.” Sheryl smoothed down the front of her dress, staring defiantly between me and Corbin. “Someone had to ensure the fae king had an appropriate, unbaptised sacrifice. I know everything that goes on in this county, everyone’s little secrets and dirty laundry. And I knew that within that mob Dora brought to stop Connor’s baptism the first time, at least fifteen of those so-called righteous people had never been baptised. I expected them all to turn up today. And Maeve here was kind enough to provide me all the tools I needed to ensure they would be protected from your coven’s magic.”
“But how?” And then I remembered.My purse.When Jane and I first went to speak to the Crookshollow vicar, I’d left it unguarded while I took Kelly’s phone call. Sheryl must have scooped out all the objects she needed; Flynn’s medallion, Rowan’s twig, Corbin’s parchment, Arthur’s blade, and something of mine. Each object was imbued with the residue of our energies. She must’ve used the objects to create a spell to protect the fae from our magic before she pretended to find my purse behind that pillar.
I bet she ate my cookies, too. Bitch.
“But why?”
Sheryl laughed. “Why? Because the fae are Angels of God come to scour the evil from the earth. Only the righteous will inherit the new Kingdom of Heaven. It is no place for witches and fornicators and people who don’t pay their Council tax.”
“You think the fae are sent from God?” Flynn demanded. “Mother Mary, you’re mad, woman.”
“They are the Angels of Justice sent to purge the earth of sinners, to bring the righteous to paradise and to make this broken land a place where the spirits of the dead can dwell.”
Anger surged inside me at this woman for being so stupid as to fall for fae tricks. But mostly, my rage was reserved for Daigh. That he could take this woman’s faith and twist it like this, that he could take a good person and get her to do this evil thing, that he could lay the deaths of others squarely upon her shoulders.
“Their blood is on your hands now,” Corbin said. “Where does that leave you in the Kingdom of Heaven?”
“Oh, I won’t be seeing God’s Kingdom,” Sheryl said. “God does not allow murderers such as I to dwell in his eternal glory. But I go to my new dwelling place in peace, knowing I have done God’s Will, and that I will soon see my husband again.”
She lowered her head and broke into a run, heading straight for me. Corbin stepped in front of me, but I elbowed him aside. “No,” I cried. “She’s?—”
But it was too late.
Sheryl Brownley leapt into the fissure, her skirt and petticoat flaring up around her as she toppled into the inky black depths.
CHAPTER TEN
MAEVE
