SNEAK PREVIEW: FEAR THE WICKED
ELIJAH
It would take some finesse on my part to bend the morality of the citizens of the small town I’d inherited.
Every Sunday they showed up faithfully. And every Sunday I eased them into the violence I knew laid just beneath their skin. It was right there, an electric current waiting for the right outlet to be expressed. Time would pull them all into my mind, would set them on the path of salvation that the family had already begun to walk.
Most were readily pliant, others more difficult. My twin brother, Jacob, had done an impressive job losing the trust of his parishioners. During the week he went mad, he was rude to them, he'd distanced himself from them and he'd insulted them.
Especially the father of Annabelle Prete.
Just thinking about that poor girl had my shoulders shaking with soft laughter against the cheap, secretarial chair in Jacob’s prior office.
Richard walked in and I tracked his short journey across the room, my eyes meeting his when he dropped his weight into a chair facing my desk. I pulled the clerical collar from my neck and threw it on the wood surface.
"How much longer, boss? The family is getting antsy."
"A few minutes at most. Eve is ready. The martyr that she is." More soft laughter was a vibration over my chest.
Grinning, Richard glanced over my shoulder toward the window at my back. "Joshua may have an issue with the example being made of his sister."
"Joshua knows," I explained, little concern in my voice for how the family members would react to the show.
Three months wasn't a long time in the grand scheme of things, but it was enough time to isolate the town. With the small farms and bevy of blue collar talents, it wasn't difficult to become a community without much need of outside assistance.
In response to my sermons, the citizens had slowly closed themselves off, had turned away from the televisions and internet, had burned whatever cultural items their children had acquired in an effort to blend in with the youth of the larger cities hundreds of miles outside our borders.
Isolation was key and to accomplish that, I'd spoken to the Diocese regarding the threat against the Mother and remaining Sisters at the convent following the discovery of Sister Joyce’s body. There wasn't much left of her. It appeared she'd been abducted by the same psychopath that stole Eunice from the convent's doors, but rather than returning her to the Church, he must have left her to the wild animals along the lonely dirt road where she was discovered.
A smile had stretched my lips during that particular phone call, but fortunately they could only hear the feigned regret and sorrow in my voice.
The Diocese agreed that the remaining nuns should be removed to another convent far from our sleepy mountain, at least until the killer was caught. They’d left me in charge of the small congregation, alone and unsupervised, and then thanked me for the foresight to see to the nuns' safety.
Oh, yes, Father Hayle, you are so wise...
I'd laughed at the compliment. They were nothing but slack-jaws, all of them.
Richard's meaty hand ran through his brown hair. Shoulder length, it framed the parts of his face that his thick, long beard didn't hide. With broad shoulders and a rotund stomach bulging over the large buckle of his belt, Richard leaned back in his chair, kicked his legs out and crossed them at the ankles.
Unlike him, I was the sleek rural priest with black hair and blue eyes, shoulders as broad as Richards, but a stature standing a few inches taller. Built to seduce, my body was a weapon of deception as opposed to Richard's brute strength.
It was no surprise to me that the younger female parishioners - those girls that had come to an age where childhood was far behind - batted their eyes when I looked in their direction. In truth they were flirting with Jacob, not realizing I'd taken his place.
"Five minutes," Richard finally said, his voice as gruff as his appearance. "You should get in your robe and get out there." He paused, considering. "Not many people showed up from town."
"I didn't invite many," I explained as I pushed to my feet, grabbing my clerical collar to set it back in place. "And the cassock won't be necessary. This isn't Mass or anything formal, just a gathering of the family and the men from town that I think will be ready for this little treat. Once we have them convinced that it's normal, they'll help convince the other men. Once we have the men, we'll have the women, and once we have the women, we'll have the town.” I winked at him. “Baby steps, Richard."
Nodding, he smiled and stood to walk with me into the hall, our booted steps against the ground heavy and in no hurry.
Turning the corner, we looked across the nave toward the sanctuary. Eve sat in a single, small chair to the left of the pulpit. Covered by a hooded black robe, she angled her head down so that you couldn't see her face.
Silent. Motionless. Both fearful and excited, Eve proved her worth to me every single day.
Anticipation was the tension across our shoulders.
"You think she'll scream?" Richard asked, a touch of humor in his question, his eyes darting between Eve and me.
My lips curled at the corners, desire crawling inside me as electric sparks beneath the skin.
"I know she will," I answered, "in both pain and perverse pleasure. And I can promise you, Richard, there is no other music like it."