Page 24 of Unholy Fate

“I don’t know how,” I said, hating the desperation in my voice.

“Yes, you do,” he said. “You’re already doing it. You’re perfect, Evelyn.”

Just as I slipped into the warmth of his words, a sharp, searing pain erupted on my forehead, tearing me from the dream. I gasped and bolted upright in bed, clutching my head as the raw burn beneath my bandage flared like it was on fire.

Disoriented and trembling, I looked around my dark room, my heart racing as I tried to process what had just happened. Tears streaked my face as I pressed my hands to my mouth, my sobs muffled by the oppressive silence.

The memory of the dream clung to me, vivid and undeniable. Father Hudson’s words, his touch, had been so real. Shame drowned me.

“What is wrong with me?” I said into the darkness. “Why am I like this?”

I fumbled for the lamp switch with shaking fingers and winced as light flooded the room, casting eerie shadows across the walls. My reflection in the mirror mocked me—face pale and drawn, clothes rumpled, the white bandage on my forehead a glaring reminder of my situation.

Exhaustion eventually claimed me again, but my sleep was restless, haunted by shadows of the disturbing dream that had been far too real to simply dismiss. Father Hudson’s intimate words and touch replayed in my mind, filling me with a confusing mix of shame, fear and some other unidentifiable feeling I was afraid to examine too closely.

As dawn approached, I tossed and turned, desperate to escape the unsettling visions but helpless to fight the pull of slumber. In the cold light of morning, I would have to face the reality of these unholy thoughts and feelings plaguing me. But for now, all I could do was pray for deliverance as the night terrors continued their relentless assault on my troubled mind.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

LEVI

I stood silentlyat Evelyn’s bedside, arms crossed as I watched her restless form. Her breaths were uneven, body shifting under the covers as remnants of her dream flickered across her face. Even in sleep, she looked troubled.

Aziz leaned against the wall nearby, idly tapping his fingers impatiently on his thigh. “How long is this going to take?”

Ian, crouched near Evelyn’s pillow, kept his attention fixed intently on her.

“Patience,” he replied calmly. “She’s almost there.”

I bit my tongue. Arguing with Ian was pointless. Instead, I watched as Evelyn’s body finally relaxed, her breathing evening out into the slow rhythm of deep sleep. Her face, though marred by the bandage on her forehead, looked serene in the pale moonlight streaming through the window. Like a goddamn angel. It was sickening.

Ian straightened up, tilting his head as he studied her. “We can’t have her waking up too soon,” he said, motioning toward herraw, blistered skin. “If she rubs against it again, the pain will snap her right out of the dream state I’ve been working on.”

I quirked a brow skeptically. “You’re suggesting we...help her?” The idea seemed absurd. Since when did we play caretaker to humans?

Ian just shrugged, already reaching out to carefully lift Evelyn’s head, adjusting her pillow to create a soft, undisturbed space for her injury. His movements were precise, almost tender. It made my skin crawl.

Aziz snorted derisively, crossing his arms. “Why are we playing nursemaid? She’s supposed to be suffering.”

“It’s justified,” Ian said without looking up from his ministrations. “If she wakes up too soon, it might derail the temptations I’ve been weaving into her dreams.”

I hesitated a moment, then stepped in, carefully arranging Evelyn’s arm so it rested gently at her side. I avoided looking at her face for too long, jaw tightening. Her lovely, almost angelic features sparked an irrational anger in me. I hated how drawn to her I was.

“Fine,” I said grudgingly. “But let’s not make a habit of this.” Tending to a human, even in the name of corruption, left a bitter taste in my mouth. We were demons, for Lucifer’s sake. This was beneath us.

Ian straightened, and dusting off his hands, he threw a cocky glance at us. “That should hold.”

Aziz let out an exaggerated sigh, pushing off the wall. “Are we done babysitting now?”

I cast one last glance at Evelyn, making sure everything was in place. Her blonde hair fanned out on the pillow, framing her face like a halo. Damn her. Even now, she looked every inch the pure, sweet innocent.

“Yeah,” I said roughly, turning away. “Let’s go.”

We slipped into the quiet hallways of the convent, our forms melting into the shadows. Invisible, silent, we moved as one, leaving no trace of our presence. The still air carried the cloying scent of frankincense, myrrh and candle wax, a reminder of the holiness that permeated these walls. It made my skin crawl.

Hudson’s office door loomed ahead, slightly ajar. A flicker of something sharp and hot pulsed through me. Annoyance, perhaps, or anticipation. I pushed the feeling aside as we stepped into the office. Ian’s face glittered with malice, his smile razor-edged in the dim light. Aziz prowled the edges of the room, all coiled tension and barely restrained violence.

Hudson sat hunched over his desk, his pen scratching across the pages of a leather-bound journal. The rhythmic sound filled the room, the only noise in the heavy silence.

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