Page 20 of Priest and his Anarchist

“Have you ever killed someone?”

I jerk in response. “No. Why would I need to?”

His eyes remain on mine, and the longer they do, the more my legs weaken. They darken, his brows slightly furrowing. He reminds me of what torment would look like in human form, only he didn’t live through any. He, just like the rest of us, was raised by parents who would have died before they’d allow anything to touch us.

So why?

“What tormented you when no one was looking?” The words leave me in a

whisper, and I immediately know I messed up. I shouldn’t have said anything.

His face remains blank. “What makes you think I live with any?”

I shake my head in surprise, annoyed that I even care since I’m almost certain he’s not

going to make this journey easy for me. “Because boys like you don’t have eyes like that.”

“Like what?” His tone is flat, as if he’s only engaging because it is the normal thing to do.

I trace the line of the small scar below his eye, my fingers flex in the palm of my hand to stop myself from reaching forward and touching it.

“Like you’ve seen every bad thing in this world.”

He pauses a moment as if contemplating his next words. He is only a couple years older than me, but right now, I feel years younger. Smaller. He probably won’t answer.

With a lazy step forward, the room around us becomes smaller. I bend my head to look up at him. Does he expect me to flinch? To scream? Run? I should. He’s so close I may pass out.

The bite of his next words leave teeth marks on my neck. “What makes you think I’m not everything bad in this world?” He doesn’t give me a chance to answer as he continues down the stairs. “Mouth shut, Lunatic. Or I’ll sew it closed.”

It feels like sandpaper when I swallow, but I do just that, and I follow behind him as he walks back downstairs. The room is darker than I remember from the last time I was here, and the sound of laughter and chatter has my feet skipping a step. Is he throwing a party?

Priest turns over his shoulder. “Your clumsy feet won’t do you well here, Madness. Keep up.”

Sweat forms in the palms of my hands. I slow further, until I’m back in the main lobby.

Without the cloak of darkness, it’s not the pool that steals the show. It’s the endless bed of water on the other side of the cliff.

“Luna.”

Priest and four others stand in a line near the front door. It’s open, allowing the natural daylight to enter. Each of them displaying a range of expressions from sad, lost to scared.

I look away when guilt claws up my spine.

“What’s this?” I ask Priest, gesturing to them with a flick of my eyes.

“I asked you if you’d killed someone.”

“You did ask me that, yes.”

My answer must annoy him because his eyes squint for a moment, before he’s back to

being the unreadable god that he is.

He rests against the wall, the muscles in his jaw flexing. Truly terrifying how much he

resembles his father.

“By the end of today, you will have.” He says the words as if he’s talking about the

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