Our Sins in Silver

6. The Devil Prowls Like a Lion

Chapter three

The Devil Prowls Like a Lion

Sterling - Pt. 3

The demon’s coal-hot eyes ran me through like a burning pike. With his fingers still clamped around my throat like a collar, I could scarcely breathe. It was almost as if he was challenging me to succumb to the darkness blurring the edges of my vision. Perhaps it would have been smarter to give in to the monster. Somehow, though, I couldn’t make myself break his stare. The profound agony buried beneath his blood-crusted mania held me rapt.

I should have been frightened. Instead, I was thunderstruck with the realization that all I felt was pity for this creature. This man called Thomas was a product of the devil, surely. But...maybe he wasn’t beyond redemption if he was able to mourn a child of God.

Every breath behind me caught at once as I raised my hand with caution to brush the man’s stubbled cheek. I was petting a feral wolf, and I’d lose a limb if I wasn’t careful. No, I was touching something far more dangerous than a wolf. And if this beast bit, I’d likely lose more than a hand.

“I have swept away your offenses like a cloud, your sins like the morning mist. Return to me, for I have redeemed you.”

I wasn’t one for reciting scripture—at least not nearly as incessantly as the other monks. However, one made exceptions when staring a blood-slathered minion of Satan dead in the eye.

The demon appeared awestruck by my gesture. His dark lashes fluttered when my fingers brushed the sharp curve of his jaw. On the next thud of my heart, his sinister grin crept back onto his roguish mien. “Redemption? For a moment there, I thought you might be more intelligent than the sheep behind you, Priest. But no, not if you think there is hope of redemption for a creature like me.”

A surge of renewed strength wound through me, fueled by my determination to subdue the demon with kindness and reason. The tension in the air was more smothering than the hand around my throat as my brothers and sisters hung behind me, watching me attempt to tame the devil on our doorstep. “I believe any creature with a soul possesses the ability to earn their place in the Kingdom of Heaven, Thomas.”

The demon released a low, gravelly chuckle. “My mate believed the same thing. She was so convinced I had a soul. She was like you, you know. Her unwavering faith in your God was admirable. Endearing, even. It was for that reason that I never turned her.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant by “turned” her. Turned her toward Satan, maybe? That made the most sense, but I didn’t dare question him. I only gave as much of a nod as I could in the confines of his grip, urging him to continue.

“Had I made her like me, she would have sensed your Helsing enter our den.” Keeping his grasp firmly on my throat, he kicked the bloodied sack at his feet. “She would have been able to protect herself while I was away hunting.”

“H–Helsing?” I had never heard of the word. I dropped my attention to the potato sack, and would have gasped if I had the air. Poking from the coarse cloth was a shred of black silk. Even soaked in blood, I recognized it as the abbot’s riding cape. I was glad no one else seemed to solve the mystery of who was in the sack. I was sure this wolfish stranger could scent fear, and their panic might destroy my chance of calming the brewing storm. “W–we are but humble servants of the Lord. P–please. Spare us. We have no quarrel with you.”

I tried to drop my hand from the demon’s cheek, but he caught my wrist and held it to his face. He leaned his head into my palm, his leering grin peeking through my fingers. “Ah, sweet priest. I quarrel with your whole kind, see? I find you mortals have an inherent love affair with your self-righteousness, even though you’ve barely evolved past your knuckle-dragging, s**t-throwing ancestors. You think you are the superior predator, but you see...that’s me.” His voice dropped to a slithering whisper that made the hair on my arms stand.

He turned his head to kiss my index finger. I tried to pull away, but his hold on my neck only tightened, robbing me of my last ability to speak. Falling limp against the gate, I was powerless to do anything but watch the demon take me into his mouth.

I silently winced when he nipped my flesh, and to my horror, suckled on my finger like a calf taking its mother’s milk. My eyes widened, and my pulse lurched into a gallop.

He was drinking my blood.

Everyone had been quiet before, knowing we were in the eye of the storm. Now, they were understanding the full scale of the dark force that darkened our doorstep. This man, who wore the skin of a lion, was now feasting on my blood like I was nothing more than food. We were all his food.

He’d come here for a meal.

They grasped that fact now, as they all pushed and shoved at one another, trying to flee. In the chaos, I hadn’t noticed Elijah slip away until he was back at my side with something in his hands. I wasn’t sure what it was since I couldn’t turn my head to look. Then he threw it, and water splashed on the demon’s face.

“Begone, Satan!” Elijah screamed. My apprentice pulled me away from the gate as soon as the demon dropped his guard in surprise.

I rubbed my throat and gulped for air as the demon composed himself. Another unsettling smile flitted to his mouth, and his chin dripped with blood and water. A split tongue, like that of a serpent, slipped from between his lips to taste the water. He snickered at my apprentice with murder in his eyes. “Holy water? Did you think that would work? Unless you have the sun in your pocket, boy, you’re not likely to best me.”

The demon stooped for the sack and extracted the abbot’s head, holding it high for everyone to see. At the sight of our fallen leader—or a part of him—you’d think the chorus of screams and the frantic prayers for God’s salvation were a bard’s tune from the way the demon grinned in pleasure. “Let’s play a game, shall we? Who is going to be the first to receive my gift?”

He hurled the head over the gate, and the crowd scrambled to get away as their leader’s skull fell to the ground with a sickening thud. The demon moved so fast: One minute, he was on the road, and the next, he was within our walls, standing over the decapitated head. He crouched, taking a finger and positioning it within the abbot’s line of sight. “Who’s the lucky one, Lockheart? Who’s caught your eye?” The demon lifted his crimson leer to a monk I knew well—one of my scribes.

“Looks like you’re the chosen one,” the demon cackled, thrusting to his feet and making his way to the monk.

“No!” I stumbled forward, but the monster was behind the scribe in a blink, his claws pointed at the man’s throat. I stilled, and all the blood drained from my face. “Don’t hurt him. Don’t hurt any of them.”

“Hmph.” It was as if the naked demon found me amusing, with how his bloody eyes sparkled. “As much as I delight in watching an attractive mortal beg, I cannot indulge your request, Priest. But, since you remind me of my mate, I will grant you a bit of mercy in her memory.”

My hope surged. Perhaps all the prayers of my brothers and sisters were reaching the ear of Our Lord. Maybe we were saved after all. “Mercy?”

“Yes. I will give them all the opportunity to bow to me, to kneel before me as their savior. If they do, I will indeed save them from the fate I’m capable of dealing.”

My heart plummeted to my stomach.

“Oh, look at that.” The demon named Thomas smiled softly. “Finally, there’s fear in your eyes, Priest. I think you’re catching on to the fact that I’m about to tear the entirety of your paltry world to shreds.” He spun to face the crowd, raising his voice as he addressed them. “On your knees, ladies and gentleman! Renounce your God by kneeling before me. Your precious Savior doesn’t care for you. For if he did, would he allow me to do this?”

A scream caught in my chest as I watched the demon knot his fist in the monk’s hair and slowly rip his head off. The sound of cracking bone and tearing flesh, coupled with the look of horror and agony on the scribe’s face, was enough to make me vomit right there, yet I couldn’t move. I couldn’t so much as twitch. The demon stared right into me as if he held me under a dark spell with his eyes alone, forcing me to look.

When the light left the scribe’s eyes, and the demon dropped the head to join the abbot’s at his feet, I felt myself being released from the sorcery holding me. Even so, I couldn’t move as I took in this Hell-fueled nightmare.

Every single nun and monk dropped to their knees. Not in prayer, though. They were kneeling before the demon.

“God, forgive them,” I muttered beneath my breath. “They are frightened, and they do not wish to be torn apart.” At least there was one saving grace in kneeling to the monster: They would not be slain. Hopefully, now, our aggressor would be satisfied with that and leave.

But the demon only dropped the headless body that was still in his arms to the ground and grabbed for another—a nun this time. “Good. You may be cowardly, but at least you are wise. Now, madam, how about a kiss for your new God?” He arched down as if to deliver a kiss to the nun’s neck, then paused with lips hovering over the milk-white column of her throat.

My stomach curdled. The damned creature was reveling in the way his victim thrashed, quaking violently in his embrace. I flinched when his needle-sharp canines descended and slammed home into her body.

Blood spewed from her throat, rapidly drenching her habit in red.

Everyone tried to stumble to their feet, realizing that the demon had no intention of granting them mercy, despite his promise. They stampeded over one another to escape the lion in their den as he ripped out another victim’s throat with one swift bite.

He’d lied. Of course, he’d lied. He was of the devil. The only thing from his mouth that I believed was that he was about to tear my world to shreds.

I couldn’t save them all. I doubted any of us would see the light of day at this rate. But maybe I could get Elijah out of here. If I saved just one…

I searched the chaos for my apprentice, turning to the place where I’d seen the young monk last. He was nowhere to be found—lost in the madness. I searched the sea of flailing limbs, fumbling over bodies and slipping on the organs of my friends.

Fear of the most absolute purity lurked up my spine, threatening to take me. But hope, as weak as it was, tamped the invading shock back down when my gaze landed on blonde hair peeking up from behind a barrel not far off.

Catherine.

A fire lit in my belly at the sight of relief that washed over her face when our eyes met.

I wanted to find Elijah, but the demon was slaying my brothers and sisters with unholy speed and terrifying precision. The longer I remained here, the less likely I was to save Catherine. I had to get her away before he noticed her.

I thrust my way through the chaos and, by some miracle, got to her without being noticed by the devil. He was too absorbed in his feast, gorging himself blind. I scooped the sobbing girl up in my arms and bolted down the cloister toward the abbey’s dining hall.

She clung to me like a screaming babe, calming only when she felt my heat swaddle her like a blanket. “Shh, I’m here now. I’ve got you, Sister. I won’t let him hurt you.”

I clutched her to my chest like she was a precious doll I was intent on keeping in one piece. My legs still suffered from the toll of the scriptorium punishment, but adrenaline paired with Catherine’s frail form made it easy for me to sprint into the room where the monks took their meals.

“Where are we supposed to hide in here?” she asked, her voice spiking with panic. I didn’t blame her for questioning my choice of rooms. Of all the places in the abbey, I’d thrown us into a room that was almost completely bare. A large table sat in the middle, a crucifix mounted to the wall, and a tall wooden cupboard sat at the end of the room. Only the senior monks knew that within the cupboard—behind the shelves of wooden plates we used for meals—was a hidden door leading into the place we stashed our silver. As a large, thriving abbey, we had a long history of bandits attempting to breach our walls to steal our valuables. None of them had ever succeeded, but the cupboard had been dragged over the closet door anyway. We then had a panel built into the back for secret entry, just to be safe.

Wrenching the cupboard open, I set Catherine inside and instructed her to stay still. She gave me a dubious look, but didn’t argue. I followed her, closing the cupboard door behind us before hauling her back into my arms. Carrying Catherine once again, I led us through the back panel and into the secret room.

“Brother...” Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks once she registered where we were. “Forgive me for doubting you. Y–you saved m–me.” She broke down into another fit, her body wracked with wave after wave of unbridled sobbing.

Drawing her close to my chest, I sat us down on the floor among the shelves that teemed with silver candleholders and serving dishes. “I know you’re frightened, Catherine, but you have to be quiet. This room may be hidden, but it is not soundproof. If the demon comes looking for us, he will hear you.”

That quieted her immediately. Her chest heaved with silent simpering, though she didn’t make a peep. We sat in the darkness, shaking in each other’s arms for what felt like an eternity.

“Brother?” the nun whispered after a while. She raised her head from my chest to gaze at me, her eyes straining through the murk of our hiding place. “Do you think this is my fault?”

There was something in the young woman’s tone that made my heart ache. “How could you think such a thing? How could a devoted woman of God bring about a scourge like this?”

Her lower lip quivered. “Because I strayed from the light of the Lord. I went to your room and tried to sway you into the dark with me. Surely this is a punishment for my sins.”

I caught her face in my hands. “This isn’t your fault.” I swallowed and closed my eyes. “If anything, it’s mine.”

Another span of silence stretched. This time, it was tenser than ever. I opened my eyes to see Catherine crying again, tears streaming down her swollen cheeks. “Oh, Brother. You are too good. First, you stood up to evil by altering the texts under the abbot’s nose. You spoke against Brother Peter and his self-harm sermon. When I was weak and tempted by delights of the flesh, you remained strong and kept me from ruin. Then I saw you, Brother Godfrey. I saw what you did. You looked the devil in the eyes and recited scripture to him. You even showed him kindness as he drank your blood like some kind of leech.”

Averting my gaze, I couldn’t bear to look her in the eye and see the adoration there.

I didn’t deserve it. This was all my doing.

I’d dared to tamper with the Word of God. Even worse, instead of showing any remorse, I’d challenged Lucifer to curse this place. Sure enough, the demon had shown up at our gate with the abbot’s body parts a few hours later. That was no coincidence.

My friends and colleagues were dying grisly, barbaric deaths…

All because of me.

The chasm of self-hatred that split me apart fused in an instant when a muffled voice sounded from the other end of the cupboard.

“Brother, are you in here?”

Elijah.

My apprentice was alive.