Chapter Four
––––––––
RAMIEL SHADOWED FATHER Ingle, staying out of sight as the priest finished his speech and headed for a church.
His congregation scattered and returned to their homes.
A once thriving community, only a fraction of the populace remained now.
The stores were empty and the humans were far too gaunt, except for their spiritual leader.
Their preacher didn’t look like he was wasting away.
Eyeing the tall church, Ramiel’s hearing was acute enough to hear everything that was going on inside from an empty house next door. He peered through the curtains as the priest chatted with someone. The parishioner left and Father Ingles was alone.
It was mind-numbingly boring listening to his target amble around inside the church.
Visitors were too frequent for the knight to ambush the priest. He preferred to have as little contact with the townsfolk as possible.
Humming at times when he was alone, the human practiced speeches as he paced up and down.
There were too many houses for Ramiel to search without being spotted, which was the only reason why he persevered.
The former occupant of this home had been far smaller than the knight when he checked the closets and dressers for clothing.
Keeping one ear on the preacher, Ramiel picked up a book that had been left on the coffee table. His eyebrows rose when he saw an alien with gold skin and horns on the cover. The female he was clasping to his chest was staring up at him in adoration.
“Am I really going to put myself through this?” the warrior asked incredulously. He looked at the bookcase standing against one wall to see it was full of novels in the same genre. Heaving a sigh, he saw he had the eleventh book in the series and crossed to grab the first book.
Plonking down onto the couch, Ramiel grimaced as he opened the novel and began to read. Hours passed and he became riveted in the story of an alien warrior who was trying to woo his fated human mate.
“Come on, Father Ingle,” a male voice intruded into the story as the sun began to descend. “It’s time to head home,” the man called out.
Ramiel’s head snapped up and he left the couch.
He peered through the window to see the preacher exit from the church.
He strode over to a pickup truck and climbed inside.
The knight hastily put the book down, then left the house through the back door.
It was easy to follow the truck as it passed through town, since it was the only vehicle moving around.
Keeping out of sight, Ramiel tailed the truck to a farmhouse a couple of miles out of town. Father Ingle climbed out and waved at the male, watching the driver continue down the street to another property.
The perpetual smile the black-souled holy-man wore vanished as soon as the truck was out of sight. Father Ingle undid his white collar and stuffed it into his pocket as he trudged up the driveway towards his house.
Ramiel used his innate speed to circle around behind the tidily kept two-story building. He sensed three other humans on the second level. Muffled noises came from inside and his brow wrinkled with a frown. Two of the people had gray souls and the third one had a black soul.
He heard keys jingling, then the front door opened. “I’m home, ladies!” the preacher called out in a gleeful tone. “Did you miss me?” He chuckled in delight as Ramiel heard muffled whimpers.
His hackles rose as he heard the front door shut, then the lock being engaged again. “I’d bet my sword the females are his captives,” the warrior predicted. He grabbed hold of the doorknob and quietly rammed his shoulder into the back door. The lock broke and he stepped inside.
Father Ingle was climbing the stairs to the second floor, stripping off his shirt in the process. He’d lit a lamp in the living room. It cast enough light to guide him upstairs.
Ramiel followed his target as he reached the first door in the hallway upstairs. The priest had no idea someone was only a few steps behind him. He reached into his pocket and flicked a lighter on. It emitted a weak glow until he lit a lamp that sat on the nightstand.
Just as the warrior had expected, a female was tied to the bed.
It was obvious she’d been kept prisoner for weeks, if not months.
Naked, she was too slender and her eyes were staring at the ceiling blankly.
She was the one who had a black soul, yet Ramiel still pitied her.
A gag kept her quiet, but she flinched when Father Ingle leaned down to stroke her matted hair.
“You’re still my favorite,” he told her, then reached for his zipper.
Ramiel could barely contain his fury as he reached out with his magic.
Mind control seeped into the human and he went still.
“Come with me,” the knight ordered. The female shrieked behind her gag, but he calmed her with his magic.
Her gaze returned to stare at the ceiling again.
The female’s spirit was broken and she was edging towards insanity.
Father Ingle woodenly left the bedroom and followed his puppet master back downstairs. Ramiel led the human to the center of the living room, then turned to face him. “Are you a real priest?” he asked.
“No,” Ingle replied in an emotionless voice that sounded slightly drugged. “I’m just pretending to be one so I can have power over other people.”
“Did you orchestrate the kidnappings of the females who’ve been taken from town?” the warrior asked next.
“Yes,” the loathsome human verified. “Three of the guys from town are in on it. We all have a harem that we keep for a while before disposing of the girls, then we choose fresh ones.”
Ramiel knew the men he’d sensed with black souls were his accomplices. One had driven him home. He didn’t need to know how long this had been going on for. It didn’t really matter in the long run. He was about to put a stop to it once and for all. “Where do your accomplices live?” he asked.
“Two of them live in town,” Ingle said. “The third one lives in the next house further along this road.”
He gave the knight the addresses, then stood there like a mannequin.
Ramiel didn’t believe in torture. None of the Knights of Order condoned it, yet he was tempted to make this creature pay for what he’d done.
Instead, he called his sword from the Void and rammed it through the human’s heart before making the weapon vanish again.
The fake priest collapsed to the carpet without uttering a sound.
Ramiel returned to the second floor and entered the first bedroom.
His mind control kept the female docile and unaware.
He knew she would cause misery if he allowed her to leave this house.
There could be no redemption for someone who didn’t even have a scrap of gray in their soul.
He snapped her neck, then shut the door behind him as he left the bedroom.
Her mind had seemed as dark as her soul and he hoped she would be at peace now.
The room across the hallway was the master bedroom. He chose a t-shirt, jeans and sneakers from the closet and dresser, then stuffed more clothing into his duffle bag.
Entering the last bedroom, his magic flowed into the other two women before he cut their bonds free.
They were lying on two single beds on opposite sides of the room.
“Stay here for two hours,” he ordered them.
“Then get dressed and head to town. Tell the townsfolk everything that happened to you and that Father Ingle was responsible. You don’t know who saved you.
It was just a stranger who did what had to be done. ”
Leaving the females, Ramiel raced to the neighboring house. His victim was sitting at his dining table, eating a meal by candlelight while his four victims upstairs sobbed in misery.
The knight’s sword punched through the male’s back, skewering his heart.
Sagging forward, his face landed on the plate and became smeared with food.
Ramiel took the stairs to the second floor.
All four women had gray souls. Using mind control, he repeated his commands, then untied them and left the house.
Racing back to town, Ramiel found the final two conspirators in their homes.
Their captives were in even worse condition than the other females.
Only half of the gagged prisoners had gray souls.
He dispatched the males and the captives who had black souls, then released the other women.
All of the surviving victims would soon be heading towards the town square to tell the townsfolk about what had happened to them.
Now that he’d accomplished his goal to find clothes and had liberated the town from the evil men, he sprinted back to the house next to the church.
“I need something to occupy my time while I wait for Amaros to turn up,” he told himself as he shoved all twenty novels in the alien warrior romance series into another duffle bag.
Once he was done, he headed back to his lair.