Page 31 of Wanted

Somewhere less used.

Hushed voices reach my ears a few moments before Sister Agatha suddenly jerks me to a stop. She was rushing me so fast, my head spins and I sway on my feet from the abrupt change.

“Sister,” a man growls in irritation. “I hope you have a good reason for interrupting us.”

I become very aware of eyes on me again, their judging weight pressing down on me like the stone I just escaped.

Daring to peek up, I see two priests standing close together. One is older and unknown to me, but the sight of the other priest fills me with dread.

Father Dominic.

Out of all the priests I’ve had to interact with over the years, he is by far the cruelest.

And I hate him immensely.

The majority of priests tend to be uncomfortable when they’re forced to be in my company. They avoid looking in my eyes, and shift and move around a lot, as if I make them uneasy.

But Father Dominic likes to go out of his way to remind me that I am cursed and a burden that should be dealt with swiftly. He’s always quick with his insults and has it made no secret that he believes I should be put down like a rabid animal.

In his eyes, keeping me alive by feeding me and sheltering me is too risky.

Sister Agatha’s grip tightens around me, and her body stiffens with tension.

“Yes, Father, forgive me,” she says, some of her rigid composure slipping. “I need to see the Prophet, it’s an emergency.”

Hearing her cowed with her voice cracking after all the years I’ve spent trapped under her thumb, subjected to the harsh lash of her tongue, should be gratifying. For once, she is not at the top of the totem pole, so to speak.

But the dread in my stomach becomes a solid ball of ice. As much as I despise her, I need her to protect me from him.

Father Dominic clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “An emergency, hmm?”

My skin starts to crawl, and I don’t need to look up to know that he’s looking at me.

Sister Agatha bristles at his tone, her spine straightening. “Yes, Father,” she says more confidently. “The Prophet has given me specific instructions and I need to speak with him immediately. It is my duty.”

Father Dominic chuckles as if he finds something amusing. “I have no doubt you were given such instructions. Unfortunately, you will have to wait.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Sister Agatha shake her head in disbelief. “But—"

“No buts, Sister,” Father Dominic says harshly. “Our business is more pressing.”

Sister Agatha sucks in a shrill, sharp breath, and I instinctively wince. I can practically feel her outrage pouring off her in waves.

Anytime I’ve ever earned such a sound from her it was always followed by a hard beating from Jeffrey.

“Dominic,” the man with the gray beard says gently, trying to diffuse the situation. “Our business is not that urgent. There’s no need for us to get between Sister Agatha and her duty.”

Sister Agatha lets her breath out in a gush of relief.

But Father Dominic huffs angrily. “Not that urgent? McCall, our time, our business will always be more important than this…this…” He flicks his hand toward me dismissively. “This creature who should have been smothered at birth.”

I know I should be insulted, but I’m too freaked out to feel it. I’m in no rush to stand in front of the Prophet again.

The last time I stood in front of him was terrifying, and that was in front of the entire congregation. I have no clue what he’ll do this time when Sister Agatha drags me before him without an audience.

Will he kill me today?

I’ve never had reason to fear such before, given how much trouble the Order has gone through to keep me alive and hidden all these years.

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