Chapter 9
NINE
Zephyrine
I blink, opening one eye and trying to take in the vast amount of light that’s assaulting my eyeballs.
I squeeze my eyes shut to block it out and groan as I try to shift in my seat.
I’m held in place by something strapped over my hips.
It’s not letting me move like I want. I swat at it.
Then I try to pull, using my hands to reach forward to free me, but they come to an abrupt stop.
My hands are bound as well. My wrists rub against each other.
Reality seeps in through my groggy state.
Flashes of what came before start glimmering through my memories, and it sends a wave of panic through me.
I blink my eyes open, still pained from the light and trying to avoid it.
But I realize it isn’t actually all that bright in here.
It just feels that way because I’ve been asleep for an eternity.
Asleep or unconscious. The more the memories come flooding back, the more I come to the conclusion it wasn’t voluntary.
I need to get my head straight, try to figure out where I am.
That’s the first order of business. Pain or no pain.
The room I’m in is dimmed. A small overhead light above me is the only thing giving me any real illumination, and it feels like a full midday sun because of how much my head hurts. I’ve either been hit with something over the head or I’m hungover.
I’ve been unconscious for an undetermined amount of time.
A frightening thought, since it means I have no idea what’s happened to me in this state.
Unconscious and tied up, I realize, as I look down at the way my hands are bound together.
My heart takes off in a sprint as adrenaline starts to bleed into my consciousness.
I’m being kidnapped.
I’m desperately trying to replay my last memories. The lake. A shower. Father Levi. Father Levi, who isn't Father Levi after all. Instead, he’s bad. I don’t remember how or why he's bad, but he is. Sort of anyway. We certainly left things in a complicated state. I remember that much at least.
I’m cold—freezing cold if the goose bumps are any indication—and the vent next to the light that feels like the brightness of ten suns is also putting out frigidly ice-cold Antarctic winds that are only fueling my discomfort and panic.
It makes it hard to concentrate. This is what they do to kidnapping and torture victims, right?
They do their best to disorient them. I shift again, trying to get myself out of the direct path but only managing to remind myself that I’m belted down.
Right. I keep forgetting the smallest details.
It must be part of the hangover. I finally focus enough to look down at my state and realize I’m wearing a seatbelt.
My hands are tied with macramé rope—the same rope from the robes I’d been ironing earlier in the day.
The ones I used to tie up Father Levi back at the convent.
Back at the convent.
Those words sink in hard because I am decidedly not at the convent now. And that would be the death of me.
I’m seat belted into a vehicle. One that’s taking me away from the convent. I blink one more time, and my vision finally clears at the same time my brain decides to fire on all cylinders. It’s as if a veil has been lifted.
I’m in an airplane. A small one. It’s a private jet of some sort, and there are only a couple of other people I can see seated nearby.
One is Father Levi, or rather Fraud-ther Levi, and the other is a man I don’t recognize.
They’re both in street clothes though. Levi has dropped the pretense of being a priest and is instead embracing his real calling. Kidnapper.
My heart is in full breakaway dash now, like I’m racing toward a finish line. My life had only one crucial, formidable, unbreakable rule—never under any circumstances leave the abbey grounds.
“No!” I shout. “Tell the pilot to go back. We have to go back!”
I work to undo my seatbelt despite my bound hands.
Tears start to collect in the corners of my eyes.
For years, I've done exactly as I was told, but he'll never forgive me for this. It won't matter that it wasn’t my choice. It’ll only matter that I broke the rule.
And for that, we'll all suffer as he scorches the earth in his wake.
Levi is asleep, head canted back and eyes closed, but when he hears my shouting, I see him shift.
Finally. The flight attendant peers her head around the corner from where she’s preparing something, and I try to motion to her.
She quickly ducks it back, though, recognizing that I’m not the one in charge, and she owes me nothing.
It’s been a long time since I’ve flown, but I can already say I like the flight attendants in commercial better.
“Levi! Please!” I hope that’s his real name, even if he isn’t a priest. I need him to understand the seriousness of what he’s doing, what it will mean for him. For his friend. For all of us.
I see his head bob for a moment, and then he sits up, rubbing a hand over his face to try to clear the fog of sleep.
Yes. Please. Wake the fuck up so you can put us back where we belong.
I bite the inside of my cheek. The carefully managed tone and mask I worked so hard to cultivate while I was in the convent is already slipping.
It’s replaced by dread as I try to get his attention.
Every minute feels like an eternity. I'll swear a million times more and a thousand times louder if it means I get his attention. I can’t afford carefully managed now.
“Levi!” I shout again, and this time he’s up and aware that I’m awake. A frown mars his otherwise perfect face, and he pushes his glasses up as his brow descends in irritation.
I can see the look of agitation on his face when I finally get my seatbelt to snap free, and I jump up from my seat.
“Sit down,” he growls when he’s close enough.
“Listen to me. We have to go back. I have to get back to the convent.” I sound as anxious as I feel, but I lower my voice to sound more rational.
“Yeah, we’re not doing that.” He’s calm. Too calm.
“We have to do that. You don’t understand. This will end badly,” I insist.
“Are you threatening me?”
“I’m warning you,” I snipe back.
I know I pissed him off thoroughly at the convent, but I’m still hoping some part of the Levi I thought I knew is real. I just need him to be sensible. Listen to me. Is that too much to ask?
“I think you’d better think twice about who’s warning who in this situation.” He grabs me by the rope around my wrist as a reminder of where I stand.
“I’m trying to help you by warning you. We’ve got to get back to the convent.”
He shakes his head, unimpressed with my pleas. “We’re thirty thousand feet in the air. You can sit down and finish your nap.”
“You’re not listening to me! We have to get back!
” I lose my patience and start to rush past him, hoping the flight attendant will see more reason than he does right now.
My attempt is futile. He extends one massive hand, catching me around the waist and wrapping me up.
He pulls me tight to his chest. His lips pressed against my temple when he speaks.
“You need to sit down.” He enunciates each word.
“No. You need to listen.” I try to pull away from him but only manage to get enough separation to meet his eyes. “If he finds out I left, we’re both dead.”
“Who finds out?” I hear the confusion in his tone.
“My husband.”
“Your what?” His brow furrows deeper, and his eyes narrow behind his glasses.
“My husband will kill us. You have to tell the pilot to turn the plane around.”
“How are you married if you’re a nun?”
“I’m in training. I haven’t taken my final vows yet. You’d know that if you were a real priest.”
“So you’ve been pretending to be a nun to hide from your husband?”
“He knows where I am. Or knew where I was, and now I guarantee he knows I’m missing. He always knows.” I talk faster because I know every moment we’re on this plane we’re putting more miles between us and the convent.
“I don’t give a fuck what he knows. He can’t touch us on this plane.” He scowls at the way I’m still struggling against him. I just want someone who will listen to the words I’m saying and take them seriously.
“But he will when we land.”
“He can try.”
He’s snide. Self-assured. Not the least bit concerned. Just like he was when I was ready to burn him. I’m starting to think the man doesn’t have a self-preserving bone in his body.
“Your arrogance—” I start and then realize it’s a failing venture. “Ma’am? You. Hello! You, in the galley! Can you tell the pilot to—”
“Is there an issue?” The other man on the plane stands up and turns his attention to us, blocking my view of the flight attendant.
He’s heavily tattooed, and his hair is carefully styled.
The suit he’s wearing is perfectly tailored, barely a wrinkle despite hours on this plane.
He looks expensive. Lethal. Sinister steel-gray eyes stare at me from across the plane, and I can tell he’s irritated with my very existence.
I’m a gnat to him—one he’ll gladly swat away if needed.
A chill runs down my spine, and I look back at Levi.
“Ignore her.” Levi dismisses the man, but he slaps a hand over my mouth and drags me toward the back of the plane. We’re through a door, and I’m tossed onto a bed before I know what’s happening.
“What are you doing?” I look around at what appears to be a private bedroom, styled and decorated in the same detail-oriented manner as the man who wants me dead.
“Giving us the opportunity to talk this out in private. You won’t have a chance to worry about your husband killing you if you continue pissing off everyone else in your wake.” A muscle in Levi’s jaw ticks in frustration. It seems like he’s almost as worried about his companion’s temper as I am.
“Do you work with him?”
“He’s a colleague. Yes.” He’s impatient with my questioning.
“He looks like a murderer.”
“Good guess.”