Isaac resisted the urge to fidget. “I wasn’t concerned.”
He knew by Shadrach’s smile that he hadn’t fooled him.
“Tell me yoursins.”
Candlelight alone lit the church’s yawning interior, flickering on the stained glass windows lining the pews.
Teenaged Isaac’s mouth pinched. He didn’t want to tell him. The air was cold on his bare upper body, and the stone floor was unforgiving against his bony knees. Hawley didn’t want to risk drawing attention to them by having lights on in the church after hours.
Thin leather whipped against his back, and Isaac’s body arched in response.
“Confess your sins.”
A low, stubborn sound rattled out of Isaac.
The whip scored against his back a second time, and he lurched forward, catching himself on his hands and returned to his knees before he could be reprimanded for losing his posture.
“I killed again,” he finally rasped.
“Killed what?” Hawley asked, circling in front of him. Isaac dared to glance up. There was a dark gleam in Hawley’s eyes, a twitch to his tense mouth.
Isaac swallowed, his throat clicking dryly. He’d been denied dinner in favor of punishment, and the day’s training had left him uncomfortably parched.
“I waited until after dark and snuck out to the field nearby. There was a raccoon there in the grass. I killed it, cut it open and spread its blood and intestines on the ground. And then…” He’d laid the trap, and something had come to inspect it, just like he wanted.
“And then?” Hawley prompted sternly.
Isaac bowed his head. “A demon came.”
It had been the most exhilarating moment of his life. The demon was a black-skinned thing with teeth like a shark. It took every ounce of training he possessed, but he brought it down. Stabbing it in the chest and hearing its banshee cry of pain hadfelt like a key slotting into place. He could do this; he wasgoodat this. Before it could decay, he’d cut it open from stem to stern and watched the black blood leak out, the strange organs shrivel and turn to dust. After that, with the restlessness in his marrow sated, he’d gone back to his dorm and slept like the dead. No amount of punishment could make him regret that feeling of satisfaction.
Hawley circled around him, the short leather whip dangling by his legs. “Youstolea holy weapon from the armory.”
The whip scored across his back, and Isaac clenched his teeth.
“You snuck out after hours.”
It crashed against him a second time, and his hands tightened into fists in his lap.
“You killed one of God’s creations and put yourself in danger.”
The third snap of the whip, right across the center of his back, drew an involuntary whimper from him.
“You haven’t yet graduated! You are not a field agent! You’re only fourteen years old!”
A hit punctuated each of those statements, and Isaac was certain blood was trickling down his back. His labored breaths filled the air, and he struggled to sit still. Sometimes he liked pain, but this was gratuitous in all the wrong ways.
“You disobeyed!” Hawley roared, and three more strikes landed hard across Isaac’s back.
He caught himself with his hands, a dry sound tearing from his throat. No more hits followed, and he focused his attention on the trembling of his arms rather than the stinging wounds on his back. Hawley’s black shoes appeared in his periphery, circling around to his front, and fingers carded firmly into his hair, tugging insistently until Isaac sat back on his heels and looked up the doughy plane of Hawley’s body to meet his eyes. Only then did Hawley’s grip gentle.
“You must obey. You cannot kill indiscriminately, nor withoutpermission.” Hawley’s brown eyes looked black in the candlelight, sharp with something Isaac couldn’t identify but which left something unpleasant squirming in his gut.
It took him a moment to find his voice. “Yes, Father Hawley.”
And then, a new voice crooned from the darkness, “Oh, killer. This is what you’ve been hiding?”
What? No. He couldn’t be here. He had to erase this, make it go away. He didn’t want the demon tosee.
