Chapter 46 Scarlett #2
A nice lady holding a brochure opened the door for us, greeting us kindly.
I found her eyes for half a second before casting mine down only to stiffen and squeeze them shut. No. I could look, I was allowed.
I forced my eyes back up, feeling Azrael beside me, unwavering. I wouldn’t be able to speak with him until we were back in the car, but he said it was fine, that he could read me enough, which I trusted more than I trusted anything else.
I glanced up at him, watching him carefully for a few seconds as he nodded towards those who greeted him. Should I be doing that too?
I turned back to the lobby, the scent of pine trees filling my nose. It wasn’t the real scent though, I knew that for certain.
There was a coffee cart, the smell bitter, and tables with chairs where people sat, waiting for the service to start. There were couches on one end too, near the bathrooms. It looked nice, but so did our church.
It wasn’t about how they presented themselves, it was about how they acted. Smiles were easy, Azrael proved that every day with his beautiful yet sharp smile. What wasn’t easy was being brave enough to let the world see the monster living under your skin.
I wasn’t sure if any of these people had tar inside of them, but I knew for a fact those at my church did and I never had to look in their eyes. Now was the time to prove that I could be exactly what Azrael wanted. Exactly what he craved.
“Good morning.”
We stopped when a man stepped in front of us, his smile bright and friendly.
I instinctively looked down only to correct myself a moment later. I had to look. That was my job.
“Good morning,” Azrael greeted evenly in return.
“My name is Joel Nasson, and who might you be?”
He was younger than Pastor Masters, but older than Thomas by the sound of his voice.
His eyes were a light blue gray and there were wrinkles around them.
I couldn’t remember what Thomas looked like.
Even during our wedding day, I never looked at the sanctuary long enough to study any of them, so I couldn’t remember if Thomas had wrinkles or not.
I knew he was far older than I was because on the day my mother gifted me to him, it had been his 25th birthday. Did he have wrinkles?
“Mr. Thorin, and this is my wife,” he introduced.
My heart skipped a beat at his introduction, and it was hard to keep my mind focused on Mr. Nasson when my mind spun at his words.
My wife.
I was his wife.
I blinked, trying to shake the feeling away and focus on his eyes.
The man barely spared me a glance. “You must be the Transporter. I heard about your marriage to the Blessed One. Congratulations. She was coveted by many. Not me, of course,” he went on as I continued to search his eyes, “I’m quite fond of my Favorite.”
“Coveted by many, cared for by none,” he hummed in response. “We thought a change of pace would be beneficial.”
He nodded. “Have her get a good look at how others act? I can understand that with what Masters’ kid is saying.”
I angled my head, looking deeper into his eyes. It took only a second longer before I finally saw it.
The darkness behind the chill laced in all their eyes.
The black dripping around their souls. I could see it.
It was so clear now. I could see it sloshing up against their bones, wrapping tightly around their souls.
Infecting them. My old world had been overrun, just like Azrael had said, but I was no longer living there.
I was the Queen saved by the Hatter, coming back for the revenge I never had the strength to take myself.
I felt the smile touch one corner of my lips before it dropped, and I reached my fingers out, brushing them by Azrael’s, the shock of his warmth, the electricity at the touch, shooting up my arm and straight down to my chest.
“And what is he saying?” Azrael asked, seemingly uncaring that I had touched him.
But I knew he cared. I could feel it. Feel the pride wafting from his skin, feel the shift in his soul. He was happy.
I made him happy.
Mr. Nasson shrugged. “Oh, you know, the usual. She was trouble, always breaking the rules, never doing what was required of her. I like a good fight, but I like obedience more, and dealing with a Favorite, even the Blessed One, who can’t seem to go a day without a lashing isn’t something I want to deal with.
Although, you might not feel the same,” he chuckled.
I didn’t have to look over to know his smile had sharpened.
Azrael straightened his spine. “If I wanted a dog, I would have gone to the pound,” he answered.
“And isn’t it just like someone of this foundation to talk down on something after he lost it, but then again, I suppose you can’t be a good sheep without spreading false testimony the moment things don’t go your way, hmm? Good day, Mr. Nasson.”
I matched his steps, moving away from the man, uncaring of what he said about me. The only person I wanted to impress now was Azrael. The rumors Thomas spread about me, the talk around the church? I didn’t care. I was Azrael’s now. How they felt about me didn’t matter as much as it had before.
“Good job, little sinner,” I heard him hum when we were out of ear shot. “He did have tar in his soul.”
I felt the smile touch my lips then. I knew I was going to be good at this, and now I knew what the tar looked like. It would be far easier finding it now.
~ ~ ~
The service was different than Pastor Masters’ services.
It was still out of the Good Book, but it wasn’t as abrasive.
Pastor Julias talked more in suggestions rather than absolutions, but the people listened all the same.
Intently and willing to die on the fact that the words in their book were true.
They didn’t sing today, which I was a little disappointed by because I so desperately wanted to hear him sing, but I also liked watching the people too.
They all acted so good. As if they were God’s perfect little warriors, but their Back Hall doors looked just like the ones in my church, and at one point during the service, Pastor Julias dismissed the children for a ‘kids program’, and they went right through those very doors.
I had watched after them until the last smiling child disappeared before my attention returned to Pastor Julias, my eyes hard.
I didn’t know who the Leaders of this church were.
I didn’t know who their sons were, so there was no way for me to tell who was waiting for them down that hall or what they would do once the doors were shut.
And there was nothing I could do to stop it from happening.
Still, I couldn’t stop thinking about it as we sat there and listened to the Pastor preach.
What were they putting those kids in? What stories were they telling them to make them feel safe while they stroked their cocks to images of them?
Where were the parents that sold them to the church?
Were they smiling? Happy that they didn’t have to worry about taking care of their children anymore?
Were they out spending the money they had gotten from their hefty donation?
Had they disappeared out of the city forever or were they sitting in the congregation today, uncaring that their children would forever be changed.
When the Pastor dismissed us, the children were still in the Back Hall. People started getting up, turning to their friends, and my eyes were still on that door.
“We can’t stop what’s happening now,” Azrael said softly in my ear, “but their reckoning will come.”
I kept my hands in my lap and very subtly spelled the word out. “KI.D.S.”
“They will be shattered in ways that might never heal, but they will be alive, allowed to choose just as you are.” He stood. “We need to talk to one last person before we leave.”
Judge Ruiz.
I followed his motions, stepping behind him when the crowd of people became too much for me to remain by his side.
Every eye I looked into, they all had tar.
They were laughing and jovial as if their children were not in the Back Hall right now being watched and recorded.
As if it wasn’t something to be worried about, and why would they be?
Until Azrael walked through the front doors of my church, they had had nothing to fear.
It took us a few minutes to find him, to wait until he was done with the conversation he was having, but eventually, he excused himself and approached us, probably because of me.
That was the excuse of many who came up to us.
They all wanted to see the Blessed One. The one everyone coveted. They couldn’t help themselves.
“Mr. Thorin,” Judge Ruiz greeted. “I heard you were visiting. How is your new marriage going?”
“Fine,” he answered. “We’ve decided to visit a few different churches for the next several weeks, see how they’re run.”
“All about the same, I assume,” he replied, sounding almost bored, “but I’ve been meaning to get in contact with you anyway, so I’m glad you’ve come. Pastor Masters said you were a transporter for the whole district.”
Meaning all the churches in the country.
It was common knowledge, and a perfect excuse as to why he had been gone so often over the years.
If he had been on other missions, being a transporter allowed him to be gone, but I had wondered where the people he had transported ended up.
I knew he couldn’t save them all, but I also knew he had to have saved some of them.
He was Azrael, he wouldn’t have let them all go.
“I am,” he answered coolly.
“Great. Are you free tomorrow? I need help transporting someone.”
“One person?” Azrael thought about it. “The price would be high.”
“How about in return, I’ll give both you and your Favorite free entrance to my new museum.”
I went very still. A museum?
“I’m not interested in museums,” Azrael answered dryly. He went to turn around—
“This isn’t one you’ve ever been to before,” the Judge pushed, forcing Azrael to stop. “It’s new. The Grand Opening is on Tuesday, and the son of your old Pastor helped me perfect it. In fact, he’s the one that came up with the idea.”
The nonprofit? Was a museum a nonprofit?
Azrael must have been interested though because he had stopped. He was quiet, the space between us charged with thought. “Fine.” He pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to Judge Ruiz. “Send me the details, I’ll get it done.”
He took the card. “Thank you, I look forward to seeing you soon.”
With that, we bid our farewells, and Azrael and I headed back out the doors.
“You see, little sinner,” he began once we were both in the car, “sometimes, all you must do is wait. The sheep can’t help themselves when the food is placed in front of them.
More often than not, the ignorant will feel obligated to say something.
It’s the cancer of this society and it will be their downfall.
” He looked over. “You did good today, Scar.”
A zing went through me, my skin buzzing at his approval.
“Now, let’s get you home so we can rinse your skin of their holy air.”