Chapter 9 Scarlett
Scarlett
He had been gone longer this time. A month, but today, I finally felt his gaze, just as warm as it had always been.
I felt my heart flutter this time when I felt the weight of it. It was a strange sensation, that flutter. Maybe I was sick.
From what little bits Thomas had revealed in conversations with the Leaders, the testing was going well, but he seemed bitter about it.
I think Thomas was more worried about what happened two years ago in California than anything else.
Mr. Alascer should have been punished, he had claimed.
Along with Mr. Young for suggesting that he have his fun with his daughter before killing her, but neither of them were so much as reprimanded for what they had done.
They still remained Leaders, they still had access to the Back Hall, to me.
The Elders, as far as I knew, hadn’t made any motion to punish anyone or even look into what had happened at that church, of which the congregation had been relocated, the church forming in another location in L.A.
Azrael hadn’t shifted in the way he stood or talked, so that told me that if the Elders were making a move, it wasn’t important enough for him to care.
His reaction only furthered my thought that he had never been a spy to begin with.
Just a civilian who stumbled upon a flier hung in the darkest corners of this world.
But I was still considering either possibility.
Although, he didn’t seem like the kind of person who would care.
Thomas, however, cared too much. I could hear how frustrated his father was getting over it. He wouldn’t drop it, and he was taking his anger out on Azrael. Anytime Azrael even spoke, the tensions grew, as if he hated the man’s very existence.
Perhaps it had to do with what they were discussing though.
I knew as soon as Azrael mentioned his work, Pastor Masters would be striving to move him up the ranks.
Before his month-long absence, I had been overhearing things like ‘growing operations’ and ‘building new churches’.
Whatever Azrael had offered them, it made them hopeful for a prosperous future.
But in the last two years, the weight of his eyes never changed, his aura never shifted, his shoes were the same. He hadn’t stopped to talk to Thomas in quite some time, but I always saw his shoes.
Never a scuff mark, never untied, his pants always pressed and pristine. His cane always shining.
As far as I knew, he hadn’t even picked a Favorite yet. At least not one that he brought to church. Where was his daffodil? Had he solved her puzzle yet?
Would he say anything if he had?
I wanted to know. I wanted to know if she was blooming brightly, as bright as the sun, or if she had wilted away, never to be seen again.
Today was a good day though. Today, he had returned, and after the sermon, I saw his shoes come into view as Thomas led me to the Back Hall.
My heart skipped as I stared at those shoes pointed at Thomas. I wondered if they would ever point at me. Would I ever gain his attention, or would I always fall short?
Perhaps it was better this way.
Pastor Masters had never liked anyone like he liked Azrael. So maybe, just maybe, gaining his attention wasn’t something I wanted to do.
Still, the sea called to me.
Was it because he was so different than the others? The weight of his eyes told me being his Favorite might be nice, Elder spy or not. It was hard not to imagine him treating me differently.
Perhaps that was just the wild dreams of a girl locked in a cage.
They were all the same. All of them, weren’t they?
It didn’t matter if the weight of his eyes was different than the others, the outcome would still be the same.
Marrying, producing children, being shipped from house to house to be shared for the rest of my life, however short it may be.
But maybe he wouldn’t share me.
Maybe…maybe he would keep me all to himself.
Air filled my body at that. It was a strange feeling, but it caused my stomach to warm and my mind to spin a little.
Maybe I really was sick. Being sick didn’t mean anything to Thomas, he would still bring me to church, if only to take me to the Back Hall for the Leaders.
There would be no rest, no sleeping away the sickness.
I hoped I wasn’t sick.
“It’s been a while,” Thomas said in a way of greeting. “I thought they finally excommunicated you.”
So, Pastor Masters wasn’t telling his son everything. Perhaps his son had less of a stance than I believed, at least regarding the business portion of the church.
I wanted to know more about it. I didn’t know what I would ever use that information for, but I wanted it. I wanted to know everything. I never got to know anything. Everyone always kept secrets from me. I once thought that maybe that’s why my mind remembered everything.
What I couldn’t figure out was why Thomas hated Azrael so much. They needed another transporter. Besides, in the past Thomas had liked when his father found another Leader. It was a celebration, but not this time.
Was Thomas afraid of him?
Did the very same aura I was drawn to scare him?
Or did Thomas know who he actually was?
No, that couldn’t have been it. Thomas respected the Elders, if he knew Azrael had been sent by them, he wouldn’t be so outwardly angry towards him, I was sure of it.
Maybe he just hated the way Pastor Masters was doting over him. Thomas was, after all, his only son, so Pastor Masters treating Azrael so well, maybe that’s what was setting him off.
Or maybe this testing was leading somewhere different. It was so thorough, so different than the others. Maybe it was because Pastor Masters was training him for something else. Maybe…
Maybe he was hoping that he was training a replacement.
Pastor Azrael.
I almost felt my lip curl.
It didn’t fit him.
It wasn’t right.
He was a raging sea, not someone who read a book for all to hear. He was the kind of man who wrote his own book, scratching it into the cliff faces unforgivingly.
I was wrong about him. About his intentions, his reason for being here. Nothing felt right. I needed to stop and listen more. Find the answers between his words because that’s where they would be.
“No,” Azrael said, that lilt in his voice much stronger now. “I met a little mouse, and I foresee being summoned soon to solve her little maze. It’ll be such fun. I do love puzzles.”
“Me too,” I wanted to say. “Give me the puzzle, I can help you solve it.”
Thomas clicked his tongue twice. “I hate mice.”
I followed him, one step behind, although my feet begged me to stay just to get a little more information on his mouse. Was it actually a mouse or was it another Favorite just like his daffodil? He liked to help his Favorites.
“I wouldn’t speak ill on my little mouse,” Azrael hummed just as I passed him, causing Thomas to stop which forced me to stop.
My breath hitched. It was the closest I had ever been to him. When I saw his shoes, they were less than a foot from mine. If I leaned even a little to my right, I might feel his chest. Then I would know for certain how young he was.
The old men had wrinkled, soft chests that bristled with unruly hair. But young men? I would think their chests were firm. Their skin was tight over their bones and muscles, like mine. They might have some hair, but not like the old men.
The sea surrounded me. Maybe he would break up against me like the waves against the cliffs. Maybe he would save me like he saved his Favorites.
No, of course not. That was the dream of a child. The dream of someone who had no right to imagine.
“Look up,” I heard the sea whisper. “Meet my eyes, show me your fire.”
Thomas turned to Azrael.
I was close enough to see his hands.
He had a ring on his right hand, the one that gripped his cane.
It was silver. Thick and big. There was a bird skeleton on it, a large bird.
His hands were beautiful too. Tanned, with veins running through them, thick ones.
They looked strong. Much stronger than Thomas’s.
Compared to Azrael’s, Thomas’s hands were frail, sickly, I would say.
His hand, his long fingers, tightened around the top of the cane, flexing, as if it pained him that I was so close.
Or made him angry.
Maybe he hadn’t considered me as a Favorite because he hated my very existence.
“Look. Up.” An order.
“Don’t tell me what to do in my own church,” Thomas threatened.
“I know you think that you’re daddy’s favorite little toy, but make no mistake, you’re only as good as what you bring to the table, which is your job.
I’m taking over when he dies. She will marry me and give me a son who will then be the next Pastor.
That’s how this story is written. This place has no room for someone of impure blood. ”
Impure?
He was impure?
I didn’t know that anyone who wasn’t a Favorite could be impure, just Favorites. Only the Favorites could lose their purity. Only the Favorites could break the laws sent down from the holy God above. Only the Favorites could sin.
I didn’t realize anyone else could too.
But if anyone could sin…
I was stuck between my betrothed and the sea. Who would win?
He leaned in, close enough to disrupt my hair as he looked down on Thomas.
I assumed down because of where he disrupted my hair. He was tall. Taller than me, taller than Thomas.
“The interesting thing about blood is that it doesn’t matter.”
I closed my eyes, his scent filling my soul in a way that didn’t quite make sense.
A flutter in the pit of my stomach, a sudden pulse between my legs, a spinning of my mind. I wanted to inhale, but I was too afraid.
Azrael straightened a second later. “It’s better you learn that now before you find yourself lost upon the sight of it spilled on your precious sacred grounds.”
My breathing was uneven, the world tilting. I wanted to fall, but I wasn’t sure which way.
“You should know that there’s a reason your father wants to move me so quickly through your ranks, Thomas,” he hummed quietly. “Perhaps it’s because I’m powerful enough to sway even your dear…fictitious god.”
My brain snapped to his words, focusing on the ones he had chosen to say.
“That’s blasphemy,” Thomas hissed.
It was blasphemy, but what it also meant was that he was certainly not sent by the Elders. He was just a civilian who found a flier and wandered in the doors of this specific church.
Was that luck or a blessing?
“Alert the church,” he sang.
His presence disappeared almost instantly.
I opened my eyes and found his shoes gone, and it was an effort not to acknowledge the disappointment rolling under my skin.
A month gone, and the sea had finally returned, crashing against my eroding shores unforgivingly, bringing with him venom and riddles.