“I didn’t argue, remember?”
“That’s right, you didn’t! You have learned to listen to Brett!”
“Yeah. And now Brett should learn to listen to Alex, because unless you finish eating instead of gloating, you’ll go hungry until lunch,” Alex said.
Brett looked at the clock. “Oh, shit.”
Rebecca laughed along with the others as Brett ate hurriedly. She liked the easy banter of the group she’d come to eat with in her attempt to get closer to Alex. She wished she fit in better, though.
She dismissed the thought as soon as it registered. That wasn’t her purpose there—it wasn’t to make friends or be popular or soothe her ego. She was there at God’s bidding, and she would serve Him well.
The group at the table disbanded—a day of lectures began, and at two o’clock she’d meet up with the study group. It would be her last chance to get to Alex. Since she finally knew the theme of his dissertation, she felt hopeful for the first time since finding out that he was her mark.
That hope lasted until two and a half hours into study group. There were five in their group, three women and two men, and one of the other girls got Alex’s attention. Neither of them flirted outright, but it was the way he looked at her.
It was with a heavy heart she returned to her room later that evening. She stared out the window, watching the snowflakes’ lazy trip toward the ground. She hadn’t felt that downhearted in a long time.
Someone knocked on her door. She looked at the clock, and it was her and Tavi’s usual tea time, so she shouted for him to enter.
Tavi smiled as he entered and closed the door behind him. “Hello, sister. How is the study group?”
“Not as productive as we had hoped.” Rebecca plopped down on a chair and stared at him.
Tavi’s face fell, and he took a seat across from her. “Talk to me. What happened?”
“Do you want a cup of tea with my boring report?”
“Sure, but I’ll make it.” Tavi got up and poured water in the kettle.
In the meantime, Rebecca wondered where to start. “Breakfast today revealed what his dissertation is about.”
“Classifying objects of occult origin from the fourteenth century,” Tavi said as if it was common knowledge while he prepared the cups with tea bags.
“What?”
Tavi turned with a surprised expression at her tone. “Yeah, I heard that yesterday from some girl he helped at the library.”
“No, his dissertation is about comparative religious art.”
“Who told you that?”
“The horse’s mouth. But what you heard is definitely an interesting rumor. Would that have made your notebook?”
“Absolutely. Which reminds me, I’ve added three more names. I actually think I’m looking closer at people now that we know how far off the track we were.”
“Who are the names?”
“Susanna Haymond, Karen Overgaard, and Nathan Grewe.”
“Well, you keep your eyes on them then, and I’ll...”
Tavi sat and placed the cups before he reached to take her hand. “What, sister.”
He had such a gentle touch. So pure. She felt sullied just for thinking what she’d have to do next. Enough to pull her hand from Tavi’s and busy herself with dunking the teabag and fiddling with her spoon.
“I spoke with Father,” she finally said, quietly. “I’m out of options.”
“You mean—”
Rebecca nodded.
“I see.” Tavi slumped back in his chair and turned the cup between his hands. “The woman’s virtue is somehow placed above that of a man’s.”
“You know why.”
“Perhaps, but trust in God. Trust in all He has given you, both this heavy burden and the tools to sway the mind of the lesser man who is unwilling to choose the path of the righteous.”
“Sounds like you’re saying that the ecclesiastical discipline is different for us,” she said.
“I am.” Tavi reached for her hand again, and that time she let him. “As Father explained it to me the day he honored me with this place among the humans fighting His battle here on Earth. The ecclesiastical discipline must differ according to the obligations of each individual. God made humans unique. He gave each of us a special purpose. We’re not supposed to walk the same road, so how can we have the same laws?”
“Because all roads lead to Him,” Rebecca said. “The ecclesiastical discipline is the directions given by the Church for us to follow both privately and publicly so that we may be worthy of His Kingdom.”
“My point here is that we’re doing something great for mankind. To fight evil, we must use evil. It is, like Father said, a burden. Our burden to remember evil and to focus on it. Or do you think God would have chosen us if we weren’t strong enough in faith to do whatever was needed from us to serve Him?”
“No.”
“We, too, are being tested by being sent on a path full of danger, hate, evil, and sin. We can’t fight it if we follow the same rules as those laid out for people walking a straighter path. Our test is to one day stand before God and know we did his bidding faithfully. To one day stand before God in proof that the Devil could not corrupt our hearts and love for God, and no matter what sins and evil the Devil put in our way, we still remained on the path to God.”
Rebecca thought about what Tavi said and what Father had said when they’d gone to meet with him. They were both right. Although she had grown up to follow the commandments of Heaven and strived to be a good Catholic, she could no longer see herself as just any woman. She was a Warrior of God, and she had a responsibility that exempted her from the laws of Heaven she had been raised to follow. She had been chosen by God and thus been given a different set of disciplines to help her navigate.
“I often wonder how you can stay pure when your spot is in their den of sin.”
“Pure? Dear sister, only my heart and soul are pure, because I sin to serve Heaven and God.”
“You mean you’ve bedded some of the women throwing themselves at you?”
“Of course,” Tavi said, shrugging. She admired his steadfast belief. “Even a few men.”
Rebecca gasped. “Really?”
“Yeah.” Tavi drank the rest of his tea and stood. “Know your place and purpose, Rebecca, and no sin will hold you back. Remember who and what we serve. How could what we do to serve a purpose that great not be forgiven?”
Tavi left her alone with that question, and Rebecca barely heard the door close behind him. She was lost in the thoughts of how to balance all she had grown up to believe was her duty to God and her place in the world of the profane.
Of course, when she was young, things had been different. Until Father had come for her and announced that she would no longer live at the orphanage, she had walked the path of any other devout Catholic. She had been so proud yet felt torn when Father told her that she would come with him to be raised with other special children. To that day, she still couldn’t identify why.
But she knew what she had to do, what she always had to do when insecure. Pray. So she got up to kneel by her crucifix, where she prayed for guidance and strength. Soon she’d venture onto a dangerous and traitorous path in order to serve God as His warrior on Earth.
A shower, clean clothes, and a bit of light makeup later, Rebecca left her dorm room full of determination. It lasted all the way to Alex’s room, where her sweaty palms gave away just how out of bounds she felt. But she knocked on his door anyway.
Alex opened and leaned against the doorframe. He didn’t have a shirt on, and he looked about as tired as he had that morning. “Good evening.”
Rebecca moved closer. “Hi, I wanted to talk to you about something.” It was her one chance. She couldn’t back down, because if she did, she’d probably never get up the nerve to try again. At least he was good looking.
She tore her gaze away from his naked chest but cut herself off when she
mentally began chastising herself for seeming interested. She had to be interested, that was the whole point of her being there.
With her mind made up, she put a hand on his chest and stepped closer. He took a few steps back, allowing her into his room, and a small hope blossomed when it looked like he was already on his way to bed—then maybe he’d succumb to her charm easier.
“What can I do for you?” Alex asked.
“I wanted to ask you something.” She pushed the door shut behind her. She had actually made a list of things to say and do, but they had all slipped her mind as she ventured into uncharted waters. Waters that left her to move to stand flush against him. She had to find lust for him. Touching him, that wasn’t actually the biggest problem. He was very attractive. She rose up on her toes and pressed her lips against his. It was such a soft kiss—softer than she’d imagined it would be. She’d done it. She’d moved past her first boundary, and the feeling of success rushed through her.
But then he pulled away and grabbed her wrists. He gently pushed her back and stood up straight.
Her hope turned to dread. “What?”
“I’m sorry, I can’t.”
Why would a man turn her down? With all she had heard about men, then why? She wasn’t unattractive. “You have someone?”
“No.”
Oh God, her last possibility crumbled in her hands. “Then why? Am I not woman enough for you?”
“Of course, you are! You’re beautiful, but—” Alex looked almost sad at turning her away.
Rebecca was desperate to not see her mission—her first real mission—be a failure. She couldn’t fail, she couldn’t let Father down. “But what?” she interrupted him. “You do have someone else, then.”
“No, I have six hundred and thirty-two books and a deadline, pushing sex so far down my list of priorities that it’s classified as a holiday activity.”
What a lame excuse—she had at least as many pages to read. “You’re not reading now.”
“No, I’m going to bed. Or haven’t you noticed I’m kinda lacking in that department, too.”
“But you can’t make time for me?”
“No. Not—”
“Or are you gay? Is that it?”
“What?” Alex exclaimed, looking horrified at the accusation.
Even she thought she had just crossed the line. She had. And if there had even been a small hope, then she had definitely destroyed it all by asking that question. Could she apologize?
Before she came arrived at an answer to that question, she saw anger fill his eyes, and he took a step closer.
“I don’t want to fuck you because I don’t want the kind of woman who shows up at some guy’s doorstep for a late-night bootie call. If I wanted a whore, I’d buy one, and if I want a girlfriend, I’ll look among the ladies. Now get the hell out of my room before you tarnish my good name and place me on your level as someone that’ll fuck anything with a pulse!”
He looked like he regretted opening his mouth just as much as she had about the gay comment, but there was a big difference. She was at least a pure woman, a virgin. Alex Rhoden was definitely not someone who could point fingers at anyone in regards to sex. Before she knew it, she had slapped him across the face, turned on her heels, and stormed out of the room.
How dared he.
Rebecca was halfway back to her own dorm when the realization of her failure finally hit, and she plopped down on a bench and hid her face in her hands, sobbing. That was so not how she had pictured the day going.
How could it all have turned so bad? How could she fail in something as simple as making a friend? She had practically thrown herself at him, and he hadn’t responded. What kind of man was he if not gay? She thought her question was more than called for, because men usually took what they could get. Didn’t they?
Then again, she was a twenty-six-year-old virgin pretending not to be, so it was safe to say she knew absolutely nothing about men. Other than what she had read in magazines and seen on TV, that was, and neither had held her interest.
The only one she could ask was Tavi. She had even thought he hadn’t been with anyone. Since she’d found out that he had, she once again wondered about the difference between men and women and sex, but she still came up short. Maybe her inexperience was what let her fall back to stereotypes from said magazines and TV shows. She’d noticed that the shows didn’t exactly show women as she knew them. She’d tried copying the women from those shows and had only made a fool of herself. And Alex hadn’t responded like men on TV, either.
She had felt so ready to take on the mission. She’d felt so ready for the big world. Sitting in a lecture hall was actually easy enough, but it was just more of the same except the surroundings, and the languages changed.
It was the part about people that she couldn’t deal with. Interacting with people. She didn’t want to have to talk with people. She wanted to read and keep order in knowledge. She was good with books and had an amazing memory. Talking to people was... well, it was her brother Tavi’s job.
But she couldn’t go talk to him about what had just happened. She probably should, but she couldn’t look at him and see the blame of fucking up such a huge assignment.
She had to fix it on her own. Fine. Alex Rhoden had forced her hand. He would find out just how fierce a warrior she was.
It was yet another beautiful day of snow. Keeping to herself, Rebecca found some sense of self-worth again, but she was still angry that Alex had made such a fool of her. Or that she had made a fool of herself by thinking herself someone a man would swoon over.
It was odd. She had never had doubts like that until the night before when Alex had brushed her off like she was nothing. She felt... diminished somehow. Tavi had called her pretty. So had Father, and he had even said that she was there in the case their prospective target was male.
Well, he was, and he didn’t want her.
So she watched him from afar. She was good at that. She was stealthy, and she knew how to terrorize someone. It was cold, but she could sit still for a very long time, even in sub-zero temperatures. With the right clothes on, she was invisible in the snow as she took the pictures.
Rebecca almost snorted out loud when she, through the telephoto lenses of her camera, saw how many skills Alex possessed. How he, even in snow, could creep close enough to miss most-eligible-bachelorette at the school and snatch her purse.
She sat quietly up until the moment a bird landed right in front of her lenses, and it looked huge, making her jump.
Alex jumped and looked right at her. She sat frozen, not just literally from sitting still in the snow and observing him walking around the pond and sneaking up on his target, but from shock at being discovered. But it didn’t look like Alex saw her through her snow cover—he looked afraid of having been caught.
She smiled as he turned and hurried away while trying not to look like he was in a hurry. Good, because tomorrow he’d be afraid for real.
Rebecca waited fifteen minutes longer after Alex had disappeared from view. She then made it out from her hideout and packed away the camouflage. She then made it back to her dorm to develop the film. Men under pressure made mistakes. She was going to flush him out if he wasn’t going to let her get close. Either way, he was going to make a mistake and show her who the others at the school were.
Chapter Fifteen
A gust of wind woke Meino, and he pulled the tattered sleeping bag closer.
Nothing to fear, little one, Burkhart’s deep voice cooed inside Meino’s head. He looked to where the Gargoyle sat frozen, looking watchful.
“It’s only the wind.” Meino shuffled his way across the dirty floor of the closed down store to curl up by the Gargoyle’s leg. He usually slept so close to Burkhart that he could touch him, but the broken windows and interior made for better sleeping arrangements if Meino was hidden in the narrow aisle where most of the wind wouldn’t get to him. There was no room for the huge G
argoyle close to him there.
They’d had to abandon cemetery tool sheds, since King Winter had closed his fist around the country and Meino had woken up with almost numb fingers and feet as the snow had blown in under the door and covered the bottom half of his sleeping bag. According to the news, it was one of the worst snow fronts in a decade, although they did expect it to be short lasting inland. Meino wanted to write Santa a wish list with a thermal sleeping bag at the top. And maybe one of those thick sleeping pads where you could lie on pure ice, and it could still stop minus twenty degrees Celsius from seeping through. All he got was his sleeping bag and sleeping pad from when he was a boy scout and only went camping from spring until late summer.
It didn’t change the fact that Meino and Burkhart had been chased from the safety that hallowed ground had offered them. If he could just get over his fear of letting the Gargoyle fly him, they’d be with the Order in no time. But Meino even feared planes and high buildings. And elevators in high buildings, meaning more than four floors were high on his hell no list, too.
It had been so cold the evening Burkhart had flown him, and now it was snowing. His stubble would freeze solid up there. So would his snot. His tired brain conjured up an image from a movie with two dumb guys riding a pocket bike in freezing temperatures, and their snot had frozen to snotcicles along their cheeks. He did not want that.
Sleep, Meino. Sun will set in a few hours. You must be rested for our next adventure.
Meino yawned and smiled at Burkhart’s choice of words. “Yeah.” He hoped once they got to a safe place he’d be able to get a full night’s... day’s sleep.
Meino jumped awake at Burkhart’s voice.
Hide, Meino, they are within one hundred meters. Hide. Leave me and hide.
Meino’s heart shot into his throat as his adrenal glands dumped a full load of the fight or flight hormone into his system. Then the order to hide and leave Burkhart registered. “No, I can’t leave you.”
Gargoyle Rising Page 12
