Page 32 of The Preacher's Pet

Anyway, what right does he have? He’s always acted as if he’s our leader, and he doesn’t understand that’s because welet himact that way. We give him that power to be the one in charge, but if it starts going to his head, we can simply take it back.

A fox screeches, the noise eerie, and something rustles in the undergrowth nearby.

Ophelia’s fingers tighten around mine. “Are you sure we’re going the right way?”

“I’m sure.”

It’s dark, and I don’t want to scare her. I know the route between the college and the water tower so well, I could do it with my eyes closed, but this is the first time for her. So, I use the flashlight app on my phone to light the way.

“It’s not much farther now,” I reassure her.

“Will Cain be there?” she asks, gazing up at me with those big, strange eyes of hers.

My heart dips a little at the mention of Cain. Why does she want to know? Is she hopes he’ll be there because he’s her friend, and she feels like it’ll be less awkward if he is? Or does she think he’ll protect her if things go wrong? I’m disappointed she doesn’t want this to be just me and her. I’d wanted to kiss her some more, but then I remember the fantasy I’d entertained earlier about having Ophelia sandwiched between the two of us after we’d chased her through the woods, and I wonder if it might be a good thing if he’s there.

Is that something he’d even entertain? The idea is taboo, but we do a lot of taboo shit… Still, sharing his childhood friend might be taking things a bit too far, even for Cain.

“I’m not sure. He might be.”

Truthfully, I have no idea where Cain is or what he’s doing. He messaged to say he was going to town, but what for, I have no clue. He disappears sometimes, but he always seems to come back in a better mood, even though he’s often sporting an injury of some kind. I think he might go and deliberately get himself into bar fights. It’s fucked up in some ways but better than self-destructing. Cain has a lot of anger inside him, and I don’t always think Roman’s way of dealing with things—bottling things up or meditating or some shit—works for Cain.

The path opens up, and the old, converted water tower appears before us. No lights are on inside, which is good news, for me, at least.

“What is this place?” Ophelia asks.

“Our hangout spot.”

Her voice is full of wonder. “It’s like something out of a fairytale.”

I think she’s giving it a little too much credit, but I still puff with pride. I look at it as if anew, with fresh eyes, and can see why she thinks that. The place is kind of gothic, and it’s definitely got fairytale vibes, but the dark kind. Not the modern day, sanitized versions.

I smile to myself. “Wait until you see inside.”

It suddenly occurs to me that she might find the interior of the water tower strange. It’s where we conduct most of our ceremonies, and where we keep the items we use to connect with the spirit world and nature. But then I remember what she said in the bar about being freaky and find myself smiling a little. Maybe she’ll appreciate it more than I give her credit for.

I really want to kiss her again, to taste her mouth, and feel her body pressed against mine.

I use the key to open the heavy door to the water tower and push it open. I flick on some lights and welcome her in.

“Well, what do you think?”

She turns in a circle, her eyes wide, as she takes in all the shelves containing the variety of ingredients we use when we’re connecting with the gods of old, our ancestors, or nature and the spirits.

“You use all this stuff?” Her voice is tense, and I sense she is freaked out despite what she said in the bar.

“It’s mostly Roman’s,” I tell her. I shrug it off. “Dude’s into some alternative medicine.”

That’s a little white lie, but it seems to relax her. It’s all of ours, really, but I don’t want her to see me as a weirdo, even though I am. I guess we all are.

“Do you want a drink?” I offer. “I have some wine or beer.”

“Vodka?” she asks hopefully.

“Yeah, I think we have some in the kitchen.” I hope we do.

“I think I like vodka.” She giggles. “But first I need to use the bathroom.”

“Sure thing. It’s just down through that door,” I nod to the door on the farthest side of the tower, “and on the right.”

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