Page 5 of The Preachers' Promise
The doctor presses his lips into a line. “I think she needs to go tonight. As soon as possible. What I’ve given her won’t last until morning.”
Mom lets out a cry. “No! We brought her back here to be safe. I can’t send her somewhere else.”
“If you don’t,” the doctor says, “her mind is at risk of shattering forever. I know a place with tight security. She’ll be safe.”
“We’ll discuss it, Doctor.” Father’s tone is serious. “I need to talk with my wife in private.”
“Let me know within the next two hours whether you want to move her there or not,” the doctor replies.
Their voices recede as they walk away, and I try to lift my arms to wave goodbye, but they won’t move.
I drift and float and smile, not really bothered by what they’re discussing. I can’t hear the voice anymore.
He’sgone, and that’s all I care about.
That and my Preachers.
3
CAIN
We are reelingwith everything that’s happened.
We claimed our Pet, and it was momentous and perfect. We were finally able to admit what we all wanted and needed, but once we had her, she was taken from us.
She was ripped away far too soon, before any of us had a chance to truly show her how much she meant to us.
We’ve gathered at the water tower, waiting for news from Dom, the dean’s son. The place feels heavy now, without our Little Ghost, as Malachi called her. She added a lightness to this dark tower and had already started to give it the odd feminine touch. I had liked it, because it told me she was nesting, starting to make herself at home here.
Then, poof, she was gone. Ripped from us.
First, we tried to figure out what had happened by ourselves. We questioned Camile, but she only knew what Ophelia told her as she was rushing to her room.
There is no way we can do anything until we know what the fuck happened and where they will take our Pet. So, I had called in a favor. A huge one.
I now owe that fucker, Dom. I have a debt owed to him, to be repaid at a time of his choosing. I hate being beholden this way.In our world, it can literally be deadly, but we need to know why Ophelia left. Why did her parents come and take her away?
A part of me is scared they’ve somehow found out about what she’s been doing with us in the woods, but that’s ridiculous. How could they?
“Maybe there’s been a death in the family?” Mal suggests. “And she’ll be back soon. After the funeral.”
“She’s cleared out most of her room,” Rome snaps. “When we went to check, it’s practically empty apart from a few larger items. Don’t be a dick.”
Mal sighs and runs a hand across his stubbled jaw. He looks like crap—like he hasn’t slept for a week. We all do.
“Don’t be an asshole then either.” Malachi spits out the words and sounds as if he’s going to either punch Roman or cry.
I roll my eyes. The last thing we need is to be fighting amongst ourselves. The guys need to get a grip. Until we know what’s happened, and more importantly, where she’s been taken, we are in the dark, and you can’t make plans and act in the dark.
I pace, up and down, up and down. Malachi stands and pours himself a stiff drink. I don’t. I want my head to be clear for when Dom gets us the information we need.
He’s the Devil I like the least. I don’t trust him because he’s the dean’s son. I also don’t trust the fuckingwayhe has about him, as if he’s better than everyone else. At least Kirill can have a laugh, and Tino isn’t all that bad. Dom, though, he’s another matter.
A knock at the water tower door makes me jump, even though I’ve been waiting for it. I rush to answer it and step back, surprised when it’s not Dom but Zane standing there.
He is without the other Vipers. No sign of the twins, thank fuck. They are utter assholes, and I’d be tempted to rearrange their faces, the mood I’m in right now. Then again, they haveevery right to hate us right back. Since finding Ophelia, I’m regretting what Roman and Mal did to Vani when they found her knocked from her bike. I understand how the Vipers must have felt. Fucking full of anger and hate, I’d imagine. We touched what was theirs, even if Roman was just trying to help, in that screwed up way of his.
Now, one of them is here, and I brace myself, wondering if he’s come to put more shit on our plates.
