“She’s no longer your problem,” I say, trying to keep my tone neutral. Arguing won’t work, not with someone like him, but maybe if he thinks she’s beyond saving he’ll give up.
I mute the call briefly as I step into the rain and start my motorcycle, making sure the call connects to the comm in my helmet before I unmute. “You said yourself, she’s fallen into sin.”
Evie had a meeting with the dean this morning. I’d already planned on visiting him after he abused his power by texting her. But now, that creepy fucker just became my number one suspect.
For a moment, I think the man on the other end of the call realizes I’m on my way, but then he speaks.
“That’s true. Sometimes I wonder why we try to save them, why we taint our bodies with theirs, but then I remember everyone must make sacrifices for the greater good.”
My nostrils flare as I pull onto the highway. I hear thecrackof thunder over the call seconds before it echoes around me.
“And there’s no greater good than saving a soul destined for hell.” His tone grows smug. “Besides, despite her namesake accepting the poisoned fruit and turning her back on heaven’s glory, Evie here still ran to the church when she was in need.”
A bell tolls in the background.
My eyes widen.
The cathedral.
I push my bike harder, splitting lanes, heading straight for the offramp that will take me to her.
“Don’t follow, Silas,” the voice purrs—silk over daggers. “You’ve already lost one sister. And I’m sure you wouldn’t want me looking too closely into Tempest’s moral state, now would you?”
“Don’t you fucking dare?—”
The line goes dead.
44
EVIE
The first thing I notice is the suffocating scent of orange blossoms and the grating of my mother’s voice in my head. Garbled pieces of conversation reach my altered mind, but everything is so dark.
“Take her and let me go. I won’t say anything, I swear.”
It feels like an ice pick is splitting my skull in two, making it impossible to focus on the world around me. But my heart is racing, doing everything it can to pierce the thick fog clouding my mind. There’s a painful numbness in my hands and fingers, an aching stretch in my shoulders—and then I realize they’re drawn overhead, suspending me just enough that the soles of my feet barely brush the ground.
“There she is,” a deep voice says, just as a sharp slap lands across my cheek, jerking my head to the side. Chains rattle, the sting of the hit reverberating through my skull as the faint echo of retreating footsteps fades. I blink, trying to open my eyes as the scattered puzzle pieces begin to rearrange.
Mother is next to me, standing in heels with her wrists bound, suspended from a large hook overhead.
I remember finding her with the dean. The cathedral. And then…
“You drugged me.” My mouth is dry, and there’s a lingering bitter taste coating my tongue.
“If I drugged you, I wouldn’t be here beside you.” She rolls her eyes, leaning away from me. “For god’s sake, stand up. You look ridiculous.”
Shame burns through some of the lingering fog in my veins as I find my footing, easing some of the tension in my shoulders. Blood rushes painfully back into my fingers as I wiggle them and realize my eyes have started to close.
“Then who?” I rasp, trying to recall what happened.
A dank, moldy smell clings to the air. Worn brick pillars curve up to support a low ceiling. Wooden crates are piled along the edges, and a single suspended bulb swings overhead, casting a morbid yellow glow. Pale shards spill over the top of one, looking a lot like bones.
Swallowing against the dryness in my throat, I shift my gaze, searching the room for clues. Two doors sit on opposite walls, flanking a raised dais and crumbling alcove.
“Why are we in the basement of a church?” My tongue scrapes over my lips like sandpaper as I swing my gaze back to my mother. “I spoke with you, and then?—”
Fingers grip my chin from behind, yanking my attention to the third presence in the room. Cold, familiar eyes scan my face, narrowing as he tilts my head from side to side.
