“We’re not animals.”
“Demons treat us like we are, waiting until one of us strays too far from the pack, then picking us off. I thought you would’ve learned that by now, but instead, you’re running off with whatever that girl is.”
“What do you mean whatever she is?” I asked, refraining from reminding him he was half demon.
“She’s not a normal Merge. I don’t know what that nun did with her, but there is something off about her.”
“That’s because she’s a Stella.”
“I told you, Stellas are a myth.”
“Then explain why her eyes are hazel? Marises have blue eyes, Terras green or violet, while we have brown and Halos have eyes so pale they look almost white.”
“Stellas are still a myth.”
“Obviously not, because she has to be one. She can use the Maris beads, but doesn’t have blue eyes, while my rosary reacts to her like she’s one of us.”
“She’s not one of us. She’s a stranger, someone we need to be careful of, especially after what happened to you back home.”
“So, that’s going to colour your opinion of any new girl I meet?”
“Ones that could be demons, yes.”
“Catherine’s not a demon!”
“I don’t know what she is, but I do know one thing.”
“What?” I snapped.
“She’s trouble.”
Chapter 30
~ CATHERINE ~
Sunday the 18th of June, 1989
Mum drove into the church’s car park, nestling in between a yellow Volkswagen and an ugly snot-green Escort. I got out of the car, the cool night breeze ruffling my hair, which was hanging loose around my shoulders. As Mum locked up, I absentmindedly gazed at the church’s stained-glass windows, the interior light illuminating the images of Saint Dominic, the Virgin Mary, and Jesus. They looked like they were warding off the encroaching darkness, which was doing its best to extinguish their light.
Shaking the thought out of my head, I followed Mum past the church and into Saint Dominic’s school, pausing as I entered the confirmation class. Christopher’s dad was sitting on the far side of the room, glaring at me as though I was the darkness encroaching upon his son, his mood clearly not improving since the last time I saw him.
Mum grabbed a chair. “Catherine, come sit next to me.”
I sat down, waving back at Nicky, who was seated next to Stephen. Though, I found my gaze wandering to Christopher. He was staring at the floor with an angry expression, his dad no doubt the cause, because Mr. Laboure was now glaring at his son.
Janet started waffling on about Catholicism. I really wasn’t interested in whatever she was saying, it all sounding like ‘Blah, blah, blah’ to me. I was starting to wonder whether I should just tell my mum I wasn’t interested in getting confirmed, especially since I’d already stopped going to church with her. In the past, all I did was look at boys during mass, since the priest had bored me to tears. Like Janet. And the only reason I didn’t feel like poking my eyes out right now was because I had Christopher’s gorgeous face to look at.
Mum nudged me, whispering, “Stop staring at Christopher and pay attention.”
Exhaling, I forced my gaze to Janet, but found my attention wandering back to Christopher within seconds, what we’d done last Tuesday running through my mind. The memory of his bare torso popped into my mind, of the way he’d pulled his shirt over his head, displaying those gorgeous abs of his. It was probably why I was so turned on when I’d gotten into the car with him. And why I’d lost control. God! That kiss had been the hottest thing I’d ever experienced. I bit my lip to stop from thinking about what could’ve happened if the park ranger hadn’t interrupted us. Maybe it was better that he did, because my control went out the window with Christopher, and I definitely wasn’t ready to take the next step with him.
Mum elbowed me, almost causing me to yelp. “Stop it,” she hissed. “You’re drawing attention.”
I looked around, only finding Christopher’s dad paying me attention. He was glaring at me as though I was a harpy, tempting his son into sin. I refrained from poking my tongue at him, the man reminding me of Christopher’s grandfather. His dark eyebrows rose, probably surprised that I didn’t duck my head and act all embarrassed. I wrinkled my nose at him and forced myself to focus on Janet.
After the lesson had finished, Mum bustled me out of the classroom, ignoring Janet’s request for a chat. She practically dragged me to the car, pushing me into the passenger seat.
“What the hell, Mum?” I said.
“Just buckle up.” She ran around to her side and jumped into her seat. “I don’t want to talk to Christopher’s father, because if I do, I will yell at him.”
“Why?” I asked, clicking on my seatbelt.
“Didn’t you see him glaring at you? He obviously blames you for getting his son into trouble.” She started up the car. “I really wanted to call him out on it, but I don’t want to have an argument on church grounds. Or at all. I’d rather not see that horrid man ever again.” She backed out, heading for the exit. “Fancy looking at you like that,” she said, stopping to check the traffic. “It was obviously his son who’d talked you into skipping school. You just need to look at the boy to see he’s a devil. He may have fooled me that first time with his smooth lines and adorable smile, but there’s no way I’ll fall for it again. And to think I was considering letting you date him after your grounding was over.” She let out an annoyed huff. “Apples don’t fall far from the tree, my girl, and that family are clearly a bunch of bad apples.” She pulled out onto the highway. “Rotten to the core.”
Chapter 31
~ CHRISTOPHER ~
Monday the 19th of June, 1989
Throughout the next day, I only saw Catherine at Art and Art History. The teachers were still keeping us apart, forcing us to sit at opposite sides of the classrooms, Herr Stanton the worst of the lot. I didn’t understand why they were still doing this almost a week after we’d been caught kissing. I’d thought that the detentions were enough punishment, but I guess I didn’t count on how old school the principal was. The man obviously thought we were still in the sixties, especially with the way he was making the teachers chaperone us. They were treating us like virginal children, which I most certainly wasn’t.
Angry with their continual interference, I moved from class to class in a foul mood, so foul that even Stephen kept his gloating face away from me. After school, I drove straight home, but not because I was supposed to. I wanted to get there before my grandfather and mother arrived back from their Italian trip, Papà picking them up from the airport.
Once home, I headed straight for my room to get The Book of the Rosary, removing the Halo beads from it. I knew it was risky keeping it, that my mother would eventually discover it was gone, but right now I was too angry to care. Plus, the rosary kept calling to me, as though it wanted me to own it.
I slipped the rosary into my pocket and returned the book to my mother’s library. Once it was safely locked up in the glass cabinet, I headed back to my room, stopping in the doorway as the front door creaked open. My mother stepped inside, squealing my name as she clapped eyes on me. She let go of her suitcase and ran for me, giving me a massive hug as though she hadn’t seen me in months instead of a couple of weeks.
She gave me a kiss on both cheeks, then a thorough onceover, probably making sure I hadn’t starved in her absence. “How have you been, piccolo mio?!” she asked, looking like a sixties movie star in her tapered skirt and silk blouse, a young Gina Lollobrigida, minus the femme fatale look.
“I’m far from little, Mamma.”
“I don’t care how big you are, you’ll always be my little boy,” she said, pinching my cheek.
I didn’t reply, a little confused by her behaviour. I’d expected her to be mad at me, not happy. “Has Papà spoken to you about me?”
Concern replaced her smile. “No, why?”
“Don’t worry, it’s n
othing important.” I sidestepped her and grabbed the handle of her suitcase, pausing as my grandfather and father entered the house. They once more looked like brothers rather than padre and figlio, my nonno regaining his youthful appearance.
His brown eyes sparkled brightly. “No plastic surgeon can compare to a great holiday,” he said, appearing well-pleased with himself.
“Guess not,” I replied. “Good to see you’re looking like yourself again, Nonno.”
“Good to be myself again.”
My gaze moved past him to my father, not thinking it was so good to see him, and from his expression, it looked like he wasn’t happy to see me either. I turned and rolled my mother’s suitcase to her room. Without waiting for a thank you, I headed back to my own room, ignoring my father as he carried a large box down the passage and into the library.
***
I stayed in my room until I was called for dinner. Ignoring my father’s glare, I sat down in my usual spot, tucking into the pasta dish. During dinner, my mother and grandfather chatted happily about how successful their trip had been, only one incident with a demon stopping it from being perfect ... for Mamma, because my nonno seemed to think the run in with the demon was great. He wouldn’t stop going on and on about how he’d defeated the creature in an apparently epic battle. My mother rolled her eyes a few times, Nonno obviously embellishing what had happened, while my father’s face steadily grew more and more stormy during the tale.
My grandfather chuckled. “Oh, you should’ve seen the creature’s face when I—”
“Stop using that damned word!” Papà barked, cutting him off.
My grandfather froze, looking taken aback by the outburst. “What word?”
“Creature. I don’t appreciate it.”
My grandfather waved a dismissive hand at him. “Oh, stop being oversensitive, Antonio. You know you’re not the same as those vile demons. You’re still half angel.”
“If you think demons are so vile then why did you impregnate one?”
My grandfather leaned towards him. “What has gotten into your bonnet, figlio? You’ve been in a foul mood since picking us up.”
Not wanting to hear his reply, I swallowed down what was in my mouth and stood up to leave. “I’ll be in my room until you need me to do the dishes.”
“No, you won’t,” my father snapped. “Sit back down.”
“I’m done,” I bit back, knowing that this was it. That all hell was about to break loose.
“Not until I say you are!”
“Antonio!” my grandfather barked. “Tell me what the hell is going on.”
“Your grandson has been consorting with that Lovich girl,” he growled. “I had to go to his school after he and that little slut were caught at Buckland’s Reserve fornicating in his car.”
“She’s not a slut!” I snapped. “And we weren’t having sex.”
“You told the park ranger that you were having a practical Sex ED lesson.”
“I was joking! And even if I weren’t, I can do whoever I like.”
“Not that girl!”
“We’ve already had this conversation.”
“Not with your madre and nonno.”
I glanced at my mother, who looked horrified, while my grandfather looked equally upset. “How long have you been fraternising with this girl?” he asked.
“Fraternising?” I snorted out an annoyed laugh. “We weren’t devising some diabolical plot, we were making out.”
“This isn’t funny, Chris!” he boomed. “She could use you like that Levy girl did.”
“She’s not using me. You’re all getting worked up over nothing.”
“Nothing! Cecile was training her to kill me.”
“I told her all about the nun’s agenda and she wasn’t happy about it. She has no interest in going anywhere near you.”
“You shouldn’t believe anything that comes out of that siren’s mouth.” His eyes shot to my father. “You should’ve killed her instead of Cecile. It’s better the devil you know than the devil you don’t. I told you I had Cecile under control.”
“You didn’t have anything under control,” Papà retorted. “And you wouldn’t even be on that girl’s radar if Cecile hadn’t been so dead set on killing you. She was the one who deserved to die, not some child. I just don’t understand why you didn’t deal with her years ago.”
“I already took her father from her, I couldn’t bring myself to take her life too.”
“So, you feel guilty over merging with your killer?”
“He didn’t kill me, it was an unfortunate chain of events. We were just two stupid teenagers without a clue of what we were playing at. I’ve also lived too many years not to forgive him for abandoning me.”
“You don’t owe him anything, and especially not his witch of a daughter.”
“I can’t help what I feel. When I merged with him, some of his fatherly love for Cecile rubbed off on me. You know when you merge with someone, you take on their memories as well as residual feelings.”
“She hated you.”
“She had a right to. I stole her father.”
“While her father stole your life, therefore you had every right to take his.”
“He didn’t do it on purpose.”
“You need to stop making excuses for your cousin and his daughter. They both got what they deserved. And you wouldn’t have been able to stay here if Cecile lived. She was the one who was aging you.”
“I know, which is why I forgive you for killing her. I understand you did it for me. We just have to hope the curse died with her, although this girl...” My grandfather turned to look at me. “I can’t have another repeat of Levy, which means this Lovich girl needs to die and if you can’t do it, I will.”
My eyes widened. “Don’t you dare touch Catherine!”
“Haven’t you learnt a thing from Europe?” he said, shaking his head disapprovingly at me.
“Catherine’s nothing like Levy. She doesn’t want to harm me, she likes me.”
“Levy supposedly liked you too.”
“Levy was bewitched by a demon, while Catherine is free from the nun’s influence. She doesn’t want to hurt me.”
“But she damn well wants to hurt me! I had a premonition of her attacking me. Whether you like it or not, she’s been infected by Cecile’s thoughts. She will continue what Cecile set out to do: to kill me. I just have to get to her first.”
“No! Leave Catherine alone, I like her.”
“I’d like her even more if she was burned to a crisp!”
The image of Catherine’s badly burned sister returned. What she looked like, the fear in her eyes. It was hard enough seeing that, let alone imagining Catherine in her place.
I took a step closer to him. “You will not hurt her.”
“Oh, I will.”
Knowing he couldn’t if he didn’t have his rosary, I made a lunge for it, yelping as it singed my fingertips. He knocked my hand away and rose to his feet.
“You stupid boy.” He grabbed my hand to have a look at it, then flung it away. “It serves you right for threatening me. Go run your fingers under cold water.”
I winced at the burn, having no intention of going anywhere until he took his words back. “I wasn’t threatening you, I just didn’t want you hurting Catherine with your rosary.”
“A rosary doesn’t attack unless it feels threatened. That girl is turning you against me!”
My father tapped the table, drawing our attention to him. “Arguing won’t solve our problem, nor killing children. How about we just get the rosary off her. She’s too young to have retained any powers from it. Take it from her and she’ll be as harmless as a human.”
Nonno Reb shook his head. “I still think—”
My father cut him off. “I don’t care what you think, I’m sick of all this killing. You don’t understand how it’s affecting me. It’s feeding my demon side. I can’t keep doing it, I need it to end, and if destroying this girl’s rosary c
ould work, why not give it a try?”
“I didn’t ask you to kill her, I will.”
Pushing to his feet, Papà waved an angry hand at him. “And you call yourself an angel Merge? Sometimes I wonder whether you’re more demon than me!”
My grandfather went quiet.
Papà shook his head at him, then turned his gaze on me. “If you want your girlfriend to live, get her rosary. Just pray that Cecile’s lifelong feud will end with its destruction.”
“I doubt she’ll hand it over so readily,” I replied.
He walked around the table and placed his hands on my shoulders. “You have to get it, Chris, because you don’t want the alternative.”
I shook free from his grip. “Whether I get the rosary or not, no one is killing Catherine.”
My grandfather pushed Papà aside, his glare narrowing on me. “Get that rosary, otherwise I will kill the girl, regardless of what you or your father want, because, Chris, I won’t let what I saw in the premonition happen.”
“How do you know it was a premonition and not a dream?”
“When it feels so real that you can taste water and smell burning flesh, it’s a premonition. She will attempt to kill me and through her rosary. If you want her to live, get that rosary for me.”
“How? I’m a Seraph, Maris rosaries won’t like my touch,” I lied, not mentioning the way it had responded to me while making out with her.
“Rosaries are affected by their owners’ desires. Allure the girl, then take it from her.”
“Allure her?”
He rolled his eyes. “Bed her.”
“Papà!” my mother shouted, her voice horrified. “You can’t tell Chris to do that! That’s … that’s the devil’s work. Only a demon would deceive in that way, and we’re not demons.”
“And that’s why they’re destroying us,” my grandfather snapped back. “Merges have become too soft to do what needs to be done. We’ll dwindle like the Stellas if we don’t fight with our minds and not our hearts.”
“I won’t do that to Catherine,” I cut in.
“You’ll do as you’re damn well told or I’ll seduce her.”
Stella Maris (The Legendary Rosaries) Page 24
