Page 68 of The Preacher's Pet

I sniffle. “It’s easy to say not to give up, but how am I supposed to live like this?”

He squeezes my hand again. “We’re going to try one more time, and itwillwork. I promise you it will work. I have a plan, but I need to discuss it with my friends first. You also need to get some of your strength back.” He pauses and takes a breath. “I’m going to ask you to do the bravest thing I’ve ever asked of anyone.”

“What are you going to ask of me?” I find my fingers reaching for his hair, because it’s still sticking up at all angles. I smooth it down then return my hand to my lap.

“I want to ask you not to give up on us.” He gathers my other hand in his much larger ones and rubs his thumbs over the back of it. “Try to ignore his voice. You might still hear him for the next few days, but please trust me when I say we will make him go away. You just need to give us some time. We won’t fail again.”

To my embarrassment, more tears fall. These men must be sick of seeing me being such an emotional wreck. It makes me feel weak.

“He’s too strong,” I argue.

“No, he’s not.” Roman shakes his head vehemently. “It’s nothisstrength that is the reason he’s still plaguing you. It’sourweakness. It’s because we failed.” He glances over his shoulder at his two friends. “We three must talk.”

I tense at the idea of being left alone with these thoughts and feelings.

“Don’t go,” I say quietly.

“We’re not leaving without you.” Roman looks again at the other two men. “How do you feel about Ophelia coming to stay at the water tower with us? We can turn the couch into a bed so there’s enough room for everyone. The bed is easily big enough to accommodate three people, and we can take it in turns to share with her.”

My heart picks up speed at his suggestion, and a strange feeling settles over me. I realize it’s hope. The first tentative signs of a possible way out of this nightmare. Maybe I’m not quite there yet, but I’m still convinced deep down that the Prophet is more powerful than anyone else. Roman seems so sure, though. Out of the three of them, he’s the one who understands the magic they use, the rituals they create. If he is saying they made a mistake, but he can fix it, I ought to give him the chance.

He’s still holding my hands and, absentmindedly, brushing his thumb over the backs. It’s a soothing motion, and even though he and I haven’t had the easiest of relationships up until now, I do trust him when he says he will try his best.

I don’t know what I’ve done right in my life to bring these men into it, but I can’t help wondering if their presence means someone is smiling down on me. I’ve felt cursed for most of my life, but they are giving me hope.

Roman addresses his friends when he speaks next. “I know exactly where we went wrong. And I know how to make it right. It’s my fault. I take full responsibility for what happened. It’s nothing to do with Ophelia, or the Prophet, or anything you guys did. It’s all on me. But that’s a good thing, because it means I can fix it.” He is full of fire and conviction, and it’s catching. “In the meantime, Ophelia, you need rest.”

As if I’m a dog reacting to the Pavlovian offer of a treat, I yawn at the wordrestand automatically pull one of my hands free of Roman’s to put it over my mouth and stifle the sound.

“You’re tired.” Roman reaches forward and tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “Come back with us to the water tower and sleep. We’ll make sure you are safe, and if his voice comes, well, all you need to know is he can’t hurt you. He can’t get to you. Not with us there.”

“He can get inside my head,” I point out. “That could hurt me.”

“Not if you don’t let him. I’ll make sure his powers can’t reach you in any other way.”

“How?” I wrinkle my brow.

He smiles, and it’s truly beautiful. It makes my heart hurt a little that he does it so seldomly. “By making a circle of protection around the tower. It might not stop his voice getting into your head, but it will mean that he can’t actually do you any harm. Do you understand?” His gaze is searching and deep, as if he needs me to give him the answer he’s so desperate for.

“You won’t be alone.” Cain adds his voice to the persuasion. “I think it’s a good idea. If you’re hearing him, but you’ve got other people there, we can talk over him. Drown him out.”

“Yeah, we can distract you with our charm,” Malachi says with a cheeky grin.

It’s not a remotely funny situation, but I find myself grateful for the moment of levity. I offer him a wobbly smile in return.

“Just give us a chance to try this, please?” Roman presses his hands together in front of me, as if in prayer. “At least look at it this way. You won’t be alone for the next few days, and I think that’s a good thing.”

I sigh with exhaustion and glance around my room. They’re correct in one thing; being alone is the very worst idea for me right now. They’re also right in saying his voice won’t be quite so scary if other people are with me and can distract me with conversation. In company, he won’t be the only thing I hear. To have him gone for good, though, is what I need. It’s scary to believe again after being so badly disappointed, but without hope, we have nothing.

Still, I have to check. “Do you really and truly believe you can make him go away?”

“I believe I can make him go away.” Roman nods firmly. “I just need to make some … adjustments.”

“I’m going to find him for real,” Cain says, shocking me with the rage in his tone. He growls the next words out. “And then I’m going to end him.”

I shiver at the very thought of Cain coming face to face with the Prophet. I want to argue with him, but I’m so exhausted and overwrought that all my mind and body can focus on is the idea of being back in the water tower, tucked up in that big bed. The place I felt so safe last night.

“Can we go back to the tower now?” I hope I don’t sound desperate.

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