Page 3 of The Sinner and the Scholar
I walk toward the bathrooms, where an emergency exit leads to an alley. The unique stench of his perfume stays with me, so I assume he follows.
I’m not a nervous person. I haven’t been since the Sisterhood whipped it out of me almost two decades ago. I don’t startle, and I don’t balk. But the instant I find myself alone with him in the dark alley, my pulse quickens.
What am I doing here?
I’ve been trained to deal with dangerous, wicked men, but this… this is not a man. I feel it in my bones. But I have to be sure.
Keeping that grin on my lips, I back up until I hit a wall next to the exit door. To my right, an overflowing dumpster blocks the way to the street. To my left, a cat urinates on a crate stacked against a dead-end brick wall. The cat hisses and arches its back, then quickly darts away.
“I’ve been waiting for you.” I crook my finger.
The lack of surprise in his eyes is unnerving. Surely this is just another bored, seedy stockbroker with too much cash in his pocket. He’s not possessed. Demons aren’t real. Because if they are, then hell is too. That’s the last thing I want.
The thought makes me stand straighter.
This will end up as just another job. I can imagine the conversation with my superior now.“Sorry, Reverend Mother. No dice. Just another cheating husband accused of possession.”
Suddenly he lurches and reaches for my neck. Because I know I must test this, I steel myself and let him pull my dress down to expose my breasts… and the blessed silver crucifix.
He hisses. Blinks. And his eyes turn completely black—no white shows. No color. Nothing but pure evil looks out at me. There is a moment of us weighing each other, a split second of him wondering about his opponent, and then he realizes I know what he is. Words spill from his mouth and sound like they’re scripted in hell. His voice is deep, guttural, and full of vile insults that would make any sinner blush.
Evil.
It’s in every atom, every particle, every breath I take.
I freeze.
It’s real. Hell is real.
If Hell is real, then so is Heaven. Prayers sling from my lips. Every word is like a hit to him. He flinches and snarls. But he doesn’t stop pawing at me. The heel of my palm flies up and hits his nose. His head snaps back. He stares at the starless sky for so long that I think I’ve broken his neck. But then he slowly returns his gaze to me, oblivious to blood gushing from his nose. His hand circles my throat, and he tries to steal a kiss from me. I whimper.
The smell. It’s so bad.
Panic grows in my chest like vines squeezing my heart. I don’t know what to do. This is wrong. So wrong. But I know I’m not ready to die.
Not if hell is real. Not if I’m going to end up there.
And that’s precisely what will happen if that man gets his mouth on me. I have no idea how I know that or if it’s true, but the fear is real. I pull the blessed dagger from my thigh sheath and shove the blade into his chest.
He vomits on me, but that’s not the worst of it. A dark, invisible presence flows from the wound. Ifeelit brush over me like an arctic breeze. Goosebumps break out across my skin, and my soul quakes.
Then it’s gone, and the man collapses. His hands fall by his head, and I glimpse a strange tattoo beneath his sleeve. I tug it up for a better look. Ooh.That’s not good.
Two
Thea
The taxi driver’s eyes dart to the rearview mirror, again checking on me in the back seat. He has questions.
Is this lady for real?
Should I go to the police?
Will I ever get that smell out of my upholstery?
I stare back to mess with him. His gaze flicks away, and he flexes the thick fingers of his left hand. He hasn’t kicked me out yet, so I guess that’s a win.
He probably thought this would be an easy, well-paying job with a scenic route. He maybe thought I was leaving a Halloween party, except… it’s July, and this isn’t a costume.
