Chapter 6
Tap
Phin’s gaze went blank, and she sagged in her seat as the bells tolled.
My own jaw ached, the same itchiness in my teeth and skull from the tone of the metal returning.
I shrank into myself, shoulders hunched and thoughts unfocused, though nothing felt as intensely as when I was outside and they’d gone off during my last visit to the village.
“Isn’t that something,” Father murmured, looking between us.
I recovered once the bells stopped, but Phin sat dazed in her seat still, one hand clutched around the pendant that hung over her breastbone.
“Is she well?” I shifted so I could get to my feet quickly, worried she needed a healer. My hands itched to touch her, the bond flaring in panic for her well-being.
“It may take her a little bit to get back to herself, but she can hear us fine.” He patted her shoulder gently.
I relaxed back into my seat but was not comforted. Phin’s gaze was unfocused and distant, the violet in her eyes nearly eclipsed by the black center. Her breathing seemed shallow, and her fingers clenched and released in a consistent cadence.
“Is there something unique about the bells?” I asked.
His eyes were shifty as he glanced between us. “The bells have been here as long as the church, there’s really no telling—”
“I thought we agreed to honesty, Father?” I reminded him.
His gaze fell to his hands on the tabletop. “There are some traditions that resist change.”
“Forged with blood then.” My voice dropped low.
He was absolutely right; some things never changed, no matter how much they needed to.
He gave the slightest nod. “Given freely? Some kind of dedication ceremony? A blessing?” He said nothing, but the way his cheek twitched gave me my answer.
“Ah. So the blood of those injured or lost in so-called holy battle, then.” Father Morton’s head bowed and I clenched a fist. It was possible that my own blood was present in the iron, or that of my brothers.
Others of our kind who had fallen while fighting Heavenly adversaries.
My brother Rylan had a collection of blades forged in much the same manner in order to be more deadly to certain foes. “Who?”
“I don’t have details, only vague notes written in code from my predecessors. The translation key has been lost to time.”
I puffed out a breath, nerves on fire. Rage crept back into my veins, burning me from the inside out. “So, keeping her safe here involves a certain amount of torture?”
He winced, cheeks turning pink as he looked at Phin, who seemed to be coming around. “Unfortunately, yes. But it was never my intention to harm her.”
“You never told me about the bells,” she groused at the priest, speech slow and stilted, her quiet voice full of shock.
“You have my apologies, but there was nothing to be done about it. And in fairness, it does give a certain amount of protection. Once I realized, I moved your room to the lower level to provide more distance from the sound.” Her frown was rivaled in intensity by the hurt in her eyes.
The priest blushed deeper, guilt etched into his features.
“Forgive me, my child, I’ve done the best I could with the tools and resources available to me.
Even if that was only a closet in the nave or a storage room in the cellar. ”
I wasn’t so sure I believed that. Phin looked terribly betrayed over his choices now that a stranger was examining them with her. My demon, normally still and quiet, was riled on her behalf. My anger had gotten quite a chance to lash out today.
“What is your suggestion?” she asked, attention turned to me.
It was rash, what I was doing, entirely unlike my normal, methodical approach to things. But it didn’t feel wrong. In fact, I was experiencing the strongest sense of rightness I’d felt in years.
“The crossroads is a place between all places. One could argue it’s a virtually impossible location to find at all.
Not to mention, it’s very well guarded,” I explained.
“There’s always at least one demon on duty”—I gestured to myself—“often two. There are more within reasonable travel distance. Sometimes there’s a member of the stone kin present as well. ”
“Stone kin?” Father asked on a gasp. “I thought that was just a fable, a clever history for some ugly statues.”
“That’s unkind, Father.”
He blanched. “I mean no disrespect. One must admit they aren’t carved to be particularly attractive.”
“You mean gargoyles?” she asked, eyes wide as though she found the notion of an animated statue fascinating. “Like the statues on the roof?”
“The ones that channel water are grotesques, but yes, exactly like that. The ones that live and breathe when not in their statue form are called stone kin. There are some that are just carvings, however. You’ve never met one?
” My heart thudded at a rapid pace behind my ribs.
Despite the odd circumstances, I was deeply enjoying this conversation if only to see her face transform with wonder.
“No.”
“Perhaps you have and just didn’t realize. They’re not terribly unlike you or me.”
“Wouldn’t it be funny if the ones on the roof woke up at night and we never knew?” she mused, a spark dancing in her eyes.
“Indeed.” I looked forward to the day she either realized or I could tell her that at least one of the carvings here was, in fact, hiding a secret life, one dedicated to her benefit and protection.
“I could swear one of them moves a little day to day.” She ducked her head, clearly embarrassed to have said so out loud.
“I thought demons and stone kin were mortal enemies?” Father Morton interrupted, eyebrows drawn together. “That they were created to keep holy buildings safe from your kind.”
Phin’s face fell. “If that’s true, they would have attacked you, right? If they were alive? To keep you from coming inside?” I didn’t begrudge her the disappointment that crossed her face but craved telling her the truth all the more.
“Perhaps. Though it would seem that many of the old beliefs and hierarchies are changing,” I answered vaguely.
“In any case, it would be very difficult for anyone, angels included, to find you at the crossroads.” This, at least, was indisputably true.
One would have to stumble upon a portal and have enough knowledge of the doorways to correctly access the right one.
“You’re suggesting I go there with you? To stay?” The little space between her eyes wrinkled in confusion.
My pulse pounded in my ears. Phin saying it out loud made my half-thought out plans real.
The ache in my chest intensified, clearly in approval of the idea that I’d have my mate close at all times.
It took immense effort to remain calm on the outside, to say the words that were truth but also remained neutral.
“Only if you’d like to, though it does seem a logical option. For your safety.”
“Why? You don’t even know me.” Her mouth curved into a perplexed grin. She was clearly more stunned than amused, but her lightness couldn’t be fully dampened, it seemed.
“My offer is not purely philanthropic.” That was understating things, but still honest. “I need help. I have a library that would benefit greatly from an attendant.”
She blinked three times in rapid succession, her attention thoroughly captured.
“You would just … keep her there?” Father asked, his interest also piqued, though he was disguising it a little better than she under a layer of concern.
“If she wants to come, yes. Though I’m afraid that would leave you without your helper, Father.”
He frowned at me. She looked between us. I could feel both of them genuinely considering the suggestion that had come to me on a whim, and even I was surprised it would suit everyone’s needs so well.
It was impulsive and potentially disastrous, but I was already committed and couldn’t bring myself to regret having made the offer. In fact, the idea of having unlimited time with her was attractive for reasons that had nothing to do with my freshly awakened mate bond.
“There’s no rush to decide,” I said after several long moments of silence, despite the screaming in my head to the contrary.
“I can return another time.” My chest ached and burned at the suggestion, but there was no part of this I could hurry along or simply foist upon her.
She needed to have a choice, in all things.
Phin shifted. “Father, it was angels here that day? You’re sure?”
He grimaced. “Yes. And they were looking for you, my child.”
Her face transformed, a momentary flinch, one that made my thoughts go blurry around the edges with anger. “Could I leave, if I wanted?” she asked, eyes wide and round. “Come back here? Or go elsewhere? Is there a village nearby? Other people?” The more she spoke, the raspier her voice got.
“Yes. Everything one could need is easily accessible, and you would be able to go where you like, though I cannot guarantee true secrecy or safety anywhere but the crossroads itself. I could draw up a contract if it would make you more comfortable? We could negotiate all the details. List them out plainly before you decide.” A vice tightened around my ribs, but I forced my breath and voice to remain even.
“But be assured Armaros will return. He was too interested not to.”
“My parents. If—when—they come back, could they get a message to me there?” Phin asked.
“Yes, there are methods of communication that could be used in such an instance.”
She nodded slowly, a whole conversation held between her and the priest with just their eyes.
“It is a better option than we’ve been presented with so far.” Father Morton reached across the table and covered her hand with his.
“Is it wrong to trust him?” she asked. They both pinned me with a stare.
“I can step out for a moment if you like?” I suggested, feeling awkward that they were discussing me while I was still present.
“No, stay,” Phin said quietly. “I mean no insult. I’m just not always the best judge of things. I’d like Father’s opinion.”