Chapter 11
The church smelled of wax and dust, with the lingering incense curling in the early morning light. As I started my duties the next day, I couldn’t shake off the new acolyte’s presence from my mind.
There was something very off about her. From the way she swayed her hips in those damn robes to the subtle pucker of her lips that screamed sensual. Maybe they sent her to ruin me. It had been so many years that I let myself get soft.
No. No more.
Normally, the scent of the wood burning and the candles soothed me and kept me grounded. But today…it felt like a trap.
Every shadow along the stone floor mocked me as I walked, while every flicker of candlelight danced on the wall, creating an illusion for her to taunt me further. It was all making me aware of her absence and her inevitable presence looming.
Ayakashi.
I searched for that name on the internet last night. The fucking name meant ‘vengeful spirit’ in Japanese. How ironic that a seemingly innocent woman came to my church and was called ‘vengeful spirit.’
Fucking hell.
I had gotten an Oni mask tattooed on the entire expanse of my back so long ago. It was my reminder that I couldn’t forget the fate I had left for the woman in the alley.
What could I have really done? Thrown my body in front of her more? Let the police carry me away for accidentally murdering her rapist?
By God’s grace, the man turned out to be Jayce motherfucking Kayuzi, the leader of The Crimson Carrions.
The name was the most accurate description of the vultures. Their crime syndicate wasn’t just your typical gang. They were rumored to have mafia relations, and if I hadn’t known any better, the girl Jayce had in his clutches that night wasn’t American.
Are you just remembering that because a certain Japanese woman has your robes in a twist?
Click.
“Fucking hell!” I roared, knocking over a candelabra in my anger.
The flame fizzled out with a puff, and I smirked, that was, until I heard a shriek down the hall by the entrance.
“Oh my word. What was that noise? Is everything okay, Father?”
Shit, fuck, ass, damn, fuck!
I’d forgotten Gloria was still here. No, no, no.
You are slipping, false prophet.
Click.
God, I need my lighter. I craved the click of the metal as much as the flame that followed.
These women were doing my head in. Gloria was a fussy mother hen, and not just to her toddler, she often brought with her because her late husband didn’t leave much of anything in the way of help but his gambling debts.
Gloria had been my ride or die since I even got into this damn church. Now I felt bad for cursing and creating panic.
“I’m all good, sorry. You are early, Gloria. Everything okay?”
Gloria was alone today, her little son absent from her side. Maybe she had some friends after all to care for him.
“Oh yes. I came early to help the new acolyte. She’s a…project that’s for sure. Bless her heart.”
I laughed in spite of myself, hearing the sweet Gloria Grenite say the equivalent of ‘fuck you’ in our small town language. Hopefully, Ayakashi wasn’t aware of the lingo.
“She is a curious soul, indeed.” I agreed, picking up the candle holder and wiping clean my mess of the wax. I let the heat simmer in my skin just for a moment before clearing my throat and finishing the task.
I needed my flame.
Ayakashi was searing into my flesh. Embedding there as she belonged.
I hadn’t forgotten her from yesterday. The way she had lingered at the vestry door, pretending not to listen, pretending not to hear my counseling session by arranging books, and adjusting candles while muttering prayers under her breath.
Her smirk had been deliberate and almost cruel when she saw Jack leave. It made me wonder who the hell he was to her. I clenched my jaw, reminding myself she was just a visitor for a short time, doing her duty to the town and then leaving. Just a woman I couldn’t get out of my fucking head.
What the hell was wrong with me lately?
I hadn’t so much as touched another woman in years, vowing to uphold my promises even if I wasn’t truly a man of the cloth. It was the only way to atone for my sins and to be safe from my past.
Now, I had two mystery females show up in the past week: one whispering sins and making me damn my soul further, even jerking myself to her damn words in the shower, and now Ayakashi.
She hadn’t done anything untoward, but I can’t help my attraction to her. Her subtle sensuality is nearly as damning as outright flirtation!
I couldn’t stop remembering, and then the memories blended with my reality when I heard that soft sound…her heels tapping lightly on the floor were like a whisper.
I didn’t need to look up to know it was her. She approached under the guise of helping me again, always finding a reason to be near me, though the way she moved, careful yet intentional, told me something else.
“Father…do you want me to—”
“I’ve got it.” My voice came out harsher than intended as I stood to my full height, which towered over her short stature.
I was about six-foot-five, and this young woman was no more than five-foot-four or something like that. She blinked at me when I cleared my throat, scowling at myself, but it didn’t matter.
She remained right where she was in my area, patient and moving slightly, but only to lean over the pews to adjust hymnals.
The faint scent of her perfume drifted around me like a hazy cloud I couldn’t escape, and a simple movement to the right, just the flick of her black hair, made my chest tighten.
I lit the first candles along the altar. The flame flickered, catching the stained-glass shadows. I was supposed to focus on the ritual, the sacred order of things, the preparation for Mass. But my eyes kept drifting, imagining her kneeling, bending, the line of her neck catching the morning sun.
Every thought of her was a battle I was already losing.
Be a fucking priest, moron, and stop ogling the help.
She stepped forward to assist with the altar cloth, and I tried to keep my attention on the fabric’s folds and the careful placement of its layers.
However, she leaned in slightly to smooth a wrinkle, and that damn dark hair slipped loose from her ear and fell against her breast, bouncing as she continued her ritual.
My stomach knotted, and I cursed under my breath.
Focus, Jed. God damn me, focus.
I told myself this all day, but it didn’t matter. Now, I was in front of so many people, trying to…hide my boner that was ever fucking present with the dark shadow in the room.
Communion was a comfort, usually, but now my chest tightened the moment she knelt before me, her hardened eyes expectant and submissive.
She moved as everyone else had prior to her turn.
She had her hands folded in the dip of her lap, her dark head bowed, but there was a pause, I swear, only I was seeing.
It was the slightest hint of a smile when she tilted her head just enough to drive me insane.
I held the wafer between my fingers, willing my body to fucking move.
Her open mouth, oh fuck, her wet tongue…
“The body of Christ…” The words faltered on my own tongue as my gaze drifted to the curve of her lips and the soft wetness of her pink tongue.
I swallowed and closed my eyes, carefully placing the wafer in her mouth. The electric zap had my eyes flying open, unable to look away from her smoldering gaze.
It was a feather-light touch, my fingers barely damp from her tongue touching them. Innocent, just the normal protocol that was required, and yet it seared me deeper than the flame I took to my skin at night.
I had to step back away from her, nearly falling on my ass away from the altar. My jaw was clenching so hard I felt like my teeth would break apart as I willed myself to maintain some shred of composure.
For fuck’s sake. Get. A. Grip. I am getting my chastity belt out after this.
I hadn’t needed it in so long, but this woman. Holy fuck. She made me feel like a prepubescent teenager.
Her eyes met mine again from my new cowardly location.
She looked calm and serene, but the light sparking in those dark pools of black felt teasing. I hated that calmness everyone else praised her for, when I knew she was taunting me.
Maybe I hated that I wanted to damn the serenity. I hated her for this. I hadn’t known this girl for more than a day, and here I was falling into a habit of old patterns I hadn’t thought of in years.
Maybe Jerry was right.
I was too tired.
After the communion was somehow finished, Ayakashi was in my space again.
“Father, I can refill the font if you like.”
I should have refused, but I didn’t. “Very well, thank you, child.”
I knew I shouldn’t call her child.
And I knew it was weird to do the staff, but calling her that let me separate my mind from her beauty a little, which my hard-on needed.
I watched like a fucking creep from the corner as she busied herself with the task. Her hands were small around the basin, delicate, and I couldn’t help but let my mind trail to those hands gripping something else.
“I, um. This seems a bit more complicated than I…”
Her words trailed off, and I groaned, entering her space and reaching forward to guide her. I knew it was a bad idea, and I was right. Our fingers brushed against each other, and that zap from before was a poor comparison. My chest tightened. Every nerve in my body was screaming, betraying my mind.
There’s something so familiar about her.
“Did I do something wrong?”
I swallowed the thick layer of shame in my throat. I couldn’t help it. I had physically jerked away from her grip. I couldn’t handle the contact.
“No…I…I need to return to my office. Thank you, child.”
Peeping Tom was my new name, apparently because I couldn’t keep my eyes off her as she continued her duties. It wasn’t until she got to the candles along the side aisles that needed replacing that I left my office and the mound of paperwork I never did.
Gloria was my destination, Gloria was the one I needed to speak to, so why the fuck was I walking to Ayakashi when she reached up to adjust one of the damn candles?
She looked unbalanced, standing on her toes, the damn hem of her dress rising with my shame. I gasped, but it wasn’t from the peak of her silky skin that had me nearly losing my breath.
It was her wrist.
Her smooth ivory wrist gleamed pale against the warm light of flames around her, and they were scarred. I didn’t know what I was doing, and I ignored the warning bells in my head of the demons laughing at my demise.
My fingers hovered above her skin, almost touching her again. I could feel the heat of her body, and she looked right into my eyes, as if beckoning me to commit to the action.
Damn succubus.
I stepped back before I could fail my goal of avoiding her and embarrass myself any further today. The worst part was that I knew she had felt my damn boner when I got too close to her body, yet she didn’t move or speak.
Why?
The incense swayed in my nose, the smoke curling like ghostly fingers around her as she guided the thurible, and she coughed softly.
“This scent is so beautiful, it reminds me of a song.”
Where the fuck did this human come from? Who said things like that?
Every movement from her, every sound she made in the day, every quiet breath, and whispered prayer, pulled me closer to a line I swore I would never cross, all fucking day.
The kneeling, leaning, adjusting, assisting…it was all innocent. But every inch of it tormented me, and the worst part was that she somehow knew it was affecting me. She absolutely knew I was falling apart.
Vengeful spirit indeed.