Then he stood, and my heart stopped. He was so imposing, so threatening without even trying. It was in his effortless strength, his onyx eyes, his calloused hands.
He crossed to me in three long, measured strides and placed a hand on either arm of my chair, caging me, then leaned in, staring into my soul with that brimstone gaze.
“How do you know that?” His voice was low, a husk. A rasp. A call to sin.
“Know what?”
“What I am?” He leaned down so his face was only inches from mine, leaving me nowhere to hide.
My spine felt like it was liquefying. Jesus, save me. Sure, controlling my mouth wasn’t my strong suit, but now I’d gone and pissed off an actual devil.
“How do youseeme?”
His eyes searched mine. He really wanted an answer. Some way to explain how I could know just by looking at him that he had bloodstained hands. I had no explanation except that thevoice in my head told me so. No reason except for the fact that surviving in Hallow Hall had honed my ability to tell when monsters walked among ordinary people.
“Do you really hear angels inside your head?” He sank a hand into my hair and gripped the back of my head. He gripped it hard, as if he’d like to crack it open and peek inside.
Fear laced down my spine.
He straightened slightly, forcing my head back so I was staring right up at him, supplicant.
“What do they sound like?”
“Insanity. I think they’re what insanity sounds like,” I whispered, honest and disarmed.
“But I thought you weren’t crazy, remember?” he reminded me.
A lump formed in my throat so large I couldn’t dislodge it. A tear welled in my eye. It trailed down my cheek.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I don’t know anymore.”
Fear was making my heartbeat spike, and I wet my suddenly dry lips. His gaze fell to the movement. He tilted his head to the side.
“What are you?” He matched my quiet tone.
“Just another crazy girl. Or another victim of Hallow Hall. Take your pick,” I whispered back.
Lucciano shook his head. He seemed disturbed by me. “No, neither of those is all you are. You are something else,” he said.
“Hey, at least I’m unique,” I wisecracked, feeling like if I didn’t ease the intensity of his inspection, I might cry. I hated to cry in front of anyone. I hated to let them see they’d gotten to me.
“Unique, but not alone... I’ve known another—” He cut himself off when the door to the office suddenly opened.
I jumped.
Father Lucciano didn’t release me right away. He took his timeletting go. Father Benedict moved around his desk, ignoring us for the most part.
“My apologies. That coffee you gave me didn’t sit right for some reason, Massimo. Old age, never let it catch you.”
He sat and studied me. “How was your session?” He glanced at the file on the table. “Oh, you got to Mira already? You’ve made progress.”
“We had only just started on the topic,” Father Lucciano said.
“It’s one of the most difficult ones for Katarina. Isn’t it? Shame what happened to that girl.”
I shot up in my chair. “Can I go?” I couldn’t hear Mira’s name come out of Father Benedict’s mouth. I just couldn’t stand it. My mind was clearing every day, and the memories were nearly too painful to recall.
“Not without your medication.” Father Benedict peered at me. “You seem upset today. I hope you remembered to take yesterday’s dose with all the fire alarm kerfuffle.”