21 #3
“I had always felt called to help others,” Emeric continues.
“Listening to their confessions made me feel stronger. I thought it was a sign I was on the right path, until one day a man deep in the throes of the Bloodrot attended for counsel. I was drawn to him at once. I couldn’t figure out why: He was a sinner, and far too old for me to feel any kind of physical attraction.
Still, carnality was the closest thing I knew to this…
hunger. I thought I was sinning without meaning to.
The strangest part was that the man seemed equally as taken with me. ”
“You longed for his confession,” I say, knowing what will follow. “And he wanted to give it to you.”
“Right. Neither of us knew it, but I’d drawn him in completely by accident. He began telling me every terrible thing he’d done. That was when I felt it: energy. It was like I’d been empty my whole life and hadn’t fully noticed until that moment.”
“But still Emeric didn’t put the pieces together.” Slade speaks from the edge of the room. There’s cool amusement in his voice, and his expression is wolfish.
Emeric nods. “Once I did, my entire world fragmented. I couldn’t reconcile being a diabolist with being a chaplain.
But as I aged out of my teen years, the need grew more powerful.
Eventually, I had to confront my understanding of what it meant to be a sinner.
The Regiment taught that diabolists were evil, but my existence was proof to the contrary.
If they were wrong about that, what else might they be wrong about?
” There’s a rueful curve to his mouth. “And that’s the way it begins, isn’t it? ”
Yes, I think. I suppose it is. A single hole poked in your worldview that calls everything into question. I stare at where Emeric’s fingers are intertwined with Ceri’s still-bloody ones. “How did you know you weren’t evil?”
He chuckles. “Because I know myself. Don’t you know you’re not evil?”
“No,” I say flatly, not needing to think about it. Ceri laughs as if I’m joking, but my attention is on Slade. He’s still watching me from across the room, but his gaze has sharpened. It’s almost…thoughtful.
Emeric shrugs. “Well, apart from your penchant for stabbing, you seem okay to me. The point is, my faith began to change. The Savior became more of a concept than anything else—an unknowable entity that I no longer believed anyone had the capacity to understand, least of all the Regiment.”
“So why didn’t you leave?” It sounds like an accusation, but I’m genuinely curious.
“I thought about it,” Emeric admits. “But then one day I overheard something I wasn’t supposed to.
A couple of my mentors were discussing one of the other apprentice chaplains: a young man who was rising quickly through the ranks and who claimed to speak directly with the Savior.
His mother, a respected Regiment scholar, had just been killed by a diabolist. That was the first time I’d heard someone mention another of my kind.
And although this other diabolist was obviously a terrifying murderer”—Emeric snickers, and Slade rolls his eyes—“I was desperate to have tangible proof I wasn’t alone. I vowed to find him.”
“And did a terrible job of it,” Slade drawls. “I found Emeric instead. His weekend escapades to the Outskirts put him directly in my territory.”
Emeric nods again. “Slade tracked me down with the intention of telling me to fuck off and was quite perplexed at how thrilled I was to see him.”
“Can you blame me? It’s not often my threats are met with exaltation.”
I notice Ceri is glancing between the two of them with obvious fondness. If she’s at all jealous of the relationship they’d had prior to her arrival, she doesn’t show it.
“That’s when you found out Slade was Gabriel’s brother,” I surmise.
“Right,” Emeric says. “This was just after his rampage, so to speak.”
I pivot to look at Slade. “So Gabriel knew you killed your mother, but he let you get away with it?”
Slade makes a sound in the back of his throat.
“Not only did he know about it—he was there. I played right into his hands. My brother could have let the Regiment capture me, but instead he let me go. He wanted the rumors to spread, the fear to build. I set the scene for him to swoop in and save everyone.” There’s a razor-sharp edge of disgust to each of Slade’s words.
“I helped him get exactly where he wanted to be.”
“Before the deal you made with Gabriel, though, you were…here? In the Outskirts?”
“Yes. I invited Emeric to stay with me at a secluded property I’d purchased.” Slade makes an encompassing gesture with one hand. “That brought an end to my so-called rampage. I started being careful again, for both our sakes.”
“And you convinced me not to give up my role as a chaplain,” Emeric reminds him. “It gave me the perfect excuse to take confession and collect information. Plus, it kept Ceri and me from suspicion. It still does.”
I can’t help looking to Ceri as he says that. Her gaze is full of pure adoration, and something about it hits me like a physical blow.
Slade’s laugh is dark as he pushes away from the wall. “As a matter of fact, it’s also the reason we’re here.”