Page 46 of Priest and his Anarchist

Some call it hell.

I have another name for him.

Mom breathes in deeply, her silver hair gliding with the wind. She’s barely aged at all. With hair of silk and eyes as freakish as this town, Lilith Patience isn’t the kind of woman you want to meet in a cemetery.

“Can you smell that?” Her shoulders lift when she inhales, a smirk teasing the corner of her mouth.

“Death?” I raise a brow.

“Well, yes, but I was also thinking…” she warms her stiff hand against my cheek. “Freedom.”

Freedom. How would it feel to be unshackled by the demons that hold me hostage? The gaping hole that spreads in my chest says it all.

“Lonely,” I say in a harsh whisper.

She studies me closely as if deciding how to reply. With the bitter taste of regret clinging to the tip of my tongue, I keep my mouth closed.

“If anything, Lune, loneliness is a feeling you shouldn’t be familiar with.” I wish she was right, but I don’t have it in me to tell her that everything she had hoped and fought for as a young girl was for nothing. It was for nothing because no matter how hard I try, I’ll still not be that person.

The person she wanted.

Chapter Twelve

priest

the father, the son, and the devil within

My phone won’t shut the fuck up, so I swipe it unlocked without checking who it is. Keeping my focus on her. Does she know I can see her? That I followed her after she was so quick to leave, only to have her wait on her mom. She knew I was watching. Always fucking watching.

“What?”

“Snappy, are we?” I don’t recognize his voice.

“Always. Who is this?”

Why’s her mom staring at her like that. As if she’d told her she was dying.

Which she is.

“Well, I figured that’d be your first question.”

Bet Vaden gave this fucker my number, thinking it’s funny. In fact, this probably is Vaden. Playing with the voice toys once again. “I’m neither here nor there….”

I pause.

“And I collect both times.”

“Who the fuc—” the call ends. I’m going to kick Vaden’s fucking ass.

Biting a cigarette out of my packet, a gust of wind blows past, stopping me. Nature herself just swept her scent straight to me.

I blaze up the end and inhale deeply as she and her mom go back and forth. She’s changed over the years, and I'm not sure why that bothers me.

I exhale the smoke from my cigarette, lacing her scent with poison. I hadn’t realized I was drawing closer to her until a car door closes and her mom calls out that she’ll be back soon.

This close, it’s even more potent. A scent uniquely hers. It’s the ashes of a burned rose. It’s dark… so fucking dark. “Tell me, Madness. Did you miss me?”

Her shoulders turn rigid, but she keeps her back to me, exposing how quickly the tiny hairs on her neck pebble. Her neck has always fascinated me, with its poised surface and the beat of her thrumming pulse.

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