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“But we are magnanimous, are we not?”
“We are generous to a fault, Beloved Father.”
Smiling, he lifted the girl’s chin with a finger so she had no choice but to meet his gaze. “The rain will cleanse you. And then the Lord will decide if you are to be forgiven and welcomed back into the fold, or if you will become one of earth’s dark servants.”
I’d heard many alternative names for the biters over the years, but that was a new one. Who the fuck were they meant to be serving exactly? The god of eating brains.
“Do you understand why this must be done?” he asked, his tone chillingly gentle. Her nod was so enthusiastic that had she not been tied to the stake, I might have worried she’d fall over. “Use words, my child.”
“I understand.” She was crying, but she was smiling too, like she couldn’t work out how she was supposed to feel. “I am ready. And should God find me lacking, I will accept His judgment.”
“You are brave, my child.”
Then he kissed her. Long. Lingering. Too intimate.
When he pulled back, she smiled beatifically up at him, eyes still shining with tears. “Thank you, Father.”
I wasn’t particularly judgmental given my occupation, but something about the kiss, her calling him father, and that he was old enough to be her actual father set my teeth on edge.
It had a far greater effect on Keaton, though, enough for him to surge to his feet. I dragged him down and, when he fought, threw myself on top of him, pinning him by the wrists.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I hissed, relying on the wind to carry the sound of my voice away from the beach.
Keaton glared up at me, and I knew he wasn’t really seeing me, that I was nothing but an obstacle to the need burning in his blood. And for once, that need had absolutely nothing to do with lust. “That’s what he did to my sister.”
“I know. I worked that out myself.” The chanting had started up again. This time, knowing it would drown out our conversation, I was relieved. “But you can’t just charge in there. We’ve talked about this.”
“He’s. Right. Fucking. There.”
“He is,” I agreed, doing my best to placate him even as my heart pounded in my chest. Keaton had a distinct size advantage. If he really wanted to dislodge me, he could, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. I could pull my knife, but things had changed so much between us I really didn’t want to do that. “What will happen if you set foot on that beach?”
“The bastard will end up with a knife in his heart.”
“You think?” I said, not bothering to keep the mockery out of my voice. “Are you going to claim next that you haven’t noticed all the guards are armed? You won’t get anywhere near him before they take you down.”
“I have to try.”
“No. You don’t. You need to listen to someone who can still think straight. I can’t keep having the same conversation repeatedly. You promised me you’d be smart. If you walk onto that beach, I’ll follow, and they’ll take me down as well. Do you want that?”
“You can stay here.”
“I could, but I won’t.”
His muscles finally slackened beneath me. “So we just let him walk away?”
“For now. We play the long game. First, we talk to the girl. Maybe she knew your sister.” Keaton stared dully up at me, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. “If I let you up, are you going to behave? Or are you going to drag me down with you?”
“I’ll behave.”
I got off him slowly, Keaton dragging himself up to a sitting position, but not attempting to stand. The beach was empty except for the girl, the procession already retracing its steps back up the cliff path.
“I can probably take him out with my crossbow.”
“And then what? Take on the other nine when they come after us? Take on the rest of the castle when they hear what happened? Besides, it was you who said he didn’t deserve anything that fast.”
I took Keaton’s lack of argument as agreement. Even so, I was relieved when they got far enough away for it not to be a possibility. We approached the beach quietly, the wet sand muffling our steps. The girl leaned back against the stake, eyes closed, face tilted toward the darkening sky. She didn’t hear us approach—not even when we stopped right in front of her. When I cleared my throat, her eyes snapped open. Up close, she was pretty—and younger than I’d first thought. Twenty at most.
“Serena Levine,” Keaton blurted. “Did you know her?”