"Fuck you," Miles grumbled, turning away to storm his ass out of the room.
Because the dick hadn't staked ten demons. He'd staked two. One of those had been for his own initiation. As the fourth son in his family, he'd been raised to get married, have a family, and be the perfect little church-going husband. Then, on his eighteenth birthday, like all the rest of them, he'd gone to his indoctrination.
No one told them what to expect. There was no warning about the horror they would experience. On the "best" day of their lives - the day they turned into an adult - every boy of the faith reported to the Church at exactly five p.m. for his indoctrination. He was ritually cleansed, dressed in a white robe, and then led into a room.
And there, the priests handed him some cheap porn magazine and a cup. He was pointed to a bathroom and told they needed a sample. There was nothing quite as uncomfortable as jacking off while a priest sat in the other room. Every movement the man had made was audible, which let Thane think it went the other way around too.
Then, when Thane finally had his sample, that same priest had collected it and left, telling Thane to wait. At the time, he hadn't been sure if he'd failed because he'd actually been able to get off, or if the fact that it had taken him more than half an hour to make it happen would be enough.
But eventually the results had come back: sterile. None of his swimmers could swim. Younger brothers were supposed to beget the next generation, and now he was useless for that. Thane hadn't even managed to wrap his mind around that before the priests were leading him to another room. His second chance, he'd been told. A way for him to be useful to God, and thus to the Church.
That was where the priests had a bound demon - a weak one. For Thane, it had been a girl. She'd looked no more than fourteen, horribly thin and terrified. Her mouth had been gagged, but her eyes had been so big. When he'd stepped closer, a priest handed him a stake and made it clear that God had decided he was meant to fight the demons of Hell with his church.
The first time he'd tried to stab the girl, the clavum hadn't gone through. It had felt like he was hitting her with a hammer, and not even the gag had been able to muffle her screams. The second attempt had worked, though. He'd stood there while her body dissolved into dust, a sign that she was truly a creature from Hell.
His mother's hadn't. Her body had simply bled out. When the funeral had been held later, she'd still been recognizable, whereas that demon had dissolved in seconds. The burst of power that came off it had been intense enough to feel like wind. The power of a true death, one of the priests had called it. It always happened when a demon was killed.
It hadn't happened for his mom.
While he'd still been trying to come to terms with the fact that he'd killed a girl and gotten proof that his mother had been murdered by the Church for no reason at all, he'd been led into yet another room. He'd killed a girl - just a young girl! - and their next step was to indoctrinate him as a hunter immediately. They made it very clear that this was all he was good for, and if he tried to run, they would make sure the evil driving him was staked out of his heart. The only reason Thane hadn't tried to get away back then was because of his brothers.
After that day, the rest of his life would be spent chasing down the demons of Hell and putting a clavum through their souls. He'd consoled himself with the thought that the monsters were real and someone had to deal with them. That little girl had been the first, but she wasn't the last.
He wasn't good enough to be a priest because he wasn't the first-born son. The power of their God had burned away his ability to produce children - a common enough problem in their faith. He'd killed for his church, which meant they would never let him leave. He knew too much. Thus, his only option was to become their henchman, so that was what Thane had done.
And he was still doing it because of his brother. Laird was all he had left. The Church had killed his mother and younger brother. His father was an abusive asshole the Church no longer needed. If Thane stepped out of line, Laird would be the one to pay for his mistakes. Sure, his brother could take care of himself, but no one could stand against the Church. They'd perfected the art of making people disappear.
Never mind his power. Laird was strong for a priest. He'd never had a problem with his control of the Words. If anything, he'd been held back in his advancement because of their family's reputation, but the Church certainly wouldn't let him go. No one ever left the Church. Not alive. The oldest sons became priests. The rest bred the next generation, and those unable to pass on their lines devoted their lives to fighting the forces of Hell. That was the will of God, supposedly.
The Church of the Holy Inquisition was a cult, and one that had lasted centuries because the power of God protected them. The only chance Thane had to change any of this was to keep playing by the rules. At least he could console himself with the knowledge that each demon he killed was a life saved. He might not be able to help them, but he could help the ones they never got the chance to hunt.
And for now, Dahlia was the Church's problem - not his.
Chapter Ten
DAHLIA
From Denton, Mei and Dahlia caught a ride south. All it took was a story that their friends bailed on them, and since they were together, they had no one to call. A guy headed into work took them to the edge of the DFW metroplex, kindly dropping them off at an IHOP along the highway. From there, they kept playing the damsels in distress.
Sometimes, they crashed with a lover. Other times, it was simply a kind person willing to help. Once, it was a little old man who just wanted someone to talk to. When the women left the next morning, their host was always alive - and no, they didn't feed on the old man. He didn't have the vitality to spare.
But finding a place to crash was a lot easier than making money. Panhandling worked, to a point. They typically earned as much as they spent to meet their next host. Bars and diners were the best place to strike up a random conversation with a stranger, yet all of them required the purchase of a meal or a drink. So, five days after the inquisitors had chased them out of that club, the women hadn't gotten ahead.
And they were starving.
Playing it safe meant no body count. No victims left to raise questions or alert the police. No stolen cars, breaking into houses, or leaving bite marks on their lovers that drew blood. For almost one whole week, Dahlia and Mei had been acting like typical college-age women, and it sucked. What they needed to do was get back in the party scene, and that meant clothes. It would also require a hotel room.
Because of their limited funds, the women hit up Walmart. Mei went looking for dresses and shoes. Dahlia made a pass through the makeup. A few things went in her pockets. A few more got hidden in her cleavage. Red lipstick worked for both of them. Black eyeliner did too. Mascara, foundation, and a few other things would be purchased, just to keep her from getting caught shoplifting.
Mei found a pair of stretchy body-con dresses. Black for Mei and red for Dahlia. For shoes, they picked something they could run in. Cute little peep-toe ankle boots for Dahlia. Mei went with some knee-high slouch boots. All of it was marked for clearance, and they somehow made it out of the store for under a hundred bucks.
Which left them with sixty-eight dollars to their name. They needed three hundred bucks to get out of town. Not an easy feat when neither of them were a real person. They couldn't just go get a job, because they didn't have the necessary documents for it. They didn't want to risk prostitution because if they were arrested, the inquisitors would be waiting. That left one good option: the clubs.
A random ad on the radio pointed them in the right direction. Ladies’ night, techno music, and dollar drinks for women all night long. No cover for single women. Their clothes would work, the place wasn't too far away, and thus the plan was made. By nine that night, Dahlia and Mei were patiently waiting in line, just like all the others trying to get in.
The bass was hard and heavy. Every time the door opened to let the next group in, the sound of people wafted out, along with flashes of light and a rush of cool air. The best part, however, were the people mingling around them. Young, healthy, and excited, this was the kind of feeding ground where an eidolon could fill up and not even be noticed.
Soon enough, they had their hands stamped to allow them to drink, and were waved in. Dahlia crossed the threshold and paused. This place was huge. It had two levels, a packed dance floor, and at least three bars. In other words, it was perfect.