Page 91 of Body and Soul

“What punishment do you think Father Ezekiel will face if he’s caught?”

I swallowed. “Prison?”

“Where he gets a bed, a shower, a library, and three meals a day, rent free,” Keres growled. “Arresting him will only make him a martyr. He and his kind are a cancer that must be cut out.” Keres gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him. “We kill to protect. You’re safe with us.”

“But I don’t want to be safe. I want…” I trailed off, blinking back tears. What did I want? Safety, yes, but I had that. I was as safe as I’d ever be with some part of Shepherd. But tonight, I wanted comfort. I wanted someone to hold me, stroke my hair, and tell me it would be okay. Keres wouldn’t do that. He was Shepherd’s protector, and now mine.

I couldn’t wish Keres away or demand someone else come out. I couldn’t imagine how awful that would feel, and I didn’t want to add to his stress. Asking him to switch personalities for a hug was rude and selfish.

My eyes watered. “I don’t know what I want.”

“Yes, you do. Shepherd would explain this better. He’s good with words. I’m just…me.”

“I’m sorry.” I pushed my tears away. “I know you can’t help it. I know this is hard for you too”

“I can't give you the comfort you need right now, but I can keep you safe. That's my job.”

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat, my trembling worsening. “I know.”

Keres was quiet, gazing out into the darkness. “What… What would he do for you now?”I thought for a minute. “Hold me. Tell me I’m okay.”

Keres shifted to face me, his hand hovering for a moment before gently placing it on my back. “You're… okay,” he said, the words sounding forced. “You're safe now.”

The warmth of his palm seeped through my shirt, fingers curling against my shoulder blade. It was a tentative touch,uncertain and clumsy, but tender enough to make my heart ache. Keres was trying, in his own way, to give me what I needed, even if he didn’t fully understand it.

Slowly, allowing me to pull away if I wanted, Keres slid his arm around my shoulders. He tugged me closer until my head rested against his chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat echoing beneath my ear. His other hand stroked my hair, jerky and unpracticed, like a toddler petting a cat for the first time.

“There, there,” Keres said gruffly, patting my head a bit too hard. “Everything will be all right, little rabbit.” He sounded awkward and out of his element. The feared protector, the feral alter who fought and defended, was lost when it came to comfort. But still he tried for me, and that only made me cry harder.

I buried my face against his chest and sobbed, not just from tonight's memories of the cult but for Keres too, who deserved comfort as much as anyone. His inability to give comfort told me he’d never received it, yet here I was demanding it from him.

I cried until my tears ran dry, Keres's strong arms around me. When the last shuddering sob left my body, I felt hollow but clean, purged of fear and pain, leaving only deep exhaustion in its wake.

I pulled back, wiping my face with my sleeve. “I'm sorry,” I mumbled, my voice hoarse. “I didn’t mean to fall apart.”

Keres studied me, his dark eyes unreadable. “Our mother said it takes strength to be vulnerable. You didn’t fall apart, little rabbit. You showed strength in your way. Shepherd would be proud.”

I nodded, glancing at my tightly clasped hands. My knuckles were white. I slowly unclenched my fingers, flexing them to restore circulation. I took a deep breath, the cool night air filling my lungs, the scent of asphalt, motor oil, and a distant siren.

These details grounded me, pulling me back to the present. I was here, not trapped in the past.

I looked back up at Keres. In the dim light from the distant streetlamps, his chiseled features were shadowed, making him look even fiercer and more foreboding. But there was a softness around his eyes I'd never noticed before, hinting at the man beneath the hard exterior.

Keres held my gaze, his eyes dark and intense. “I know this is a lot to take in, Eli. But you must understand, we don't do this lightly. Every target is carefully vetted. We go after the worst of the worst—the ones who slip through the justice system, who would keep hurting people if someone didn't stop them.”

His voice was low and serious, each word weighted. I felt the barely restrained energy thrumming through his body against mine. Keres was a predator, but in this moment, all that deadly focus was on helping me understand and earning my trust, even if it meant tearing down his own walls.

“This isn't a personal vendetta or a psychotic urge to kill. It's about protecting the innocent when the law fails and delivering justice the broken system can’t provide.” Keres's hand cupped the back of my neck, his callused palm warm on my skin. “I'm not a lone wolf, Eli. This is a family decision every time. Shepherd, me, the others—we must all agree before we act.”

I shook my head, staring down at my twisted hands. “I don't know if I can accept that. Killing is wrong, no matter who does it or why.”

“Is it?” Keres challenged, his dark eyes intense and unwavering. “What about war or self-defense? What about when criminals are executed? Even the law acknowledges some people need to die. The world isn't black and white, little rabbit. There are shades of gray.”

“This isn't war,” I argued, though my voice sounded weak to my own ears.

“Isn't it? We're fighting a war against evil, against the worst humanity has to offer—the rapists, murderers, abusers, the ones who prey on the innocent.” Keres's jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “Men like Father Ezekiel.”

The mention of Father Ezekiel made my stomach clench and my heart race. Memories of the abuse I suffered at his hands, the degradation and pain, flashed through my mind. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block the images, but they persisted, as vivid as the day they happened.

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