Worse still, Abaddon’s imagination suggested that Martinez, as a trained police officer, would see the attack coming and kick his inexperienced opponent to the ground, punch that sweet face, or worse.
With every step Gabriel made toward the shed, and his ultimate target, Martinez, Abaddon’s tendons stiffened, sweat beaded on his forehead, and he calculated every split second to make sure he grabbed Gabriel on time while remaining unseen.
The two monsters from the boy’s past stood by the banana-hued vehicle, unaware of the vengeful soul heading their way, but Abaddon’s mind buzzed with images of blood and violence. Whomever Gabriel would strike first might go down, but the other would fight him off. Both men were taller than Gabriel and had more muscle, and there was no way in hell the boy wouldn’t end up overpowered. Once the police got involved, Gabriel would forever be lost, having achieved nothing but a superficial injury to one of his tormentors.
Heat burst into Abaddon’s head when his lover cast a shadow on his hiding spot. He shot up, grabbed Gabriel by the mouth, and pulled him into the shed like a trapdoor spider capturing its victim.
The boy was so shocked he writhed in the grip, kicking his feet in the air, and before Abaddon knew what was happening, the sharp tip of the shears dug into his thigh. When he swore beneath his breath and bit his tongue, Gabriel stilled, still panting, but he must have realized what happened despite the darkness around them.
The dusty heat of the tool shed felt like a sauna, but at least Gabriel pulled back the shears. He must have known he’d lost, because he didn’t try to run away even as Abaddon set him down to the floor.
The pulse that had furiously beaten in Abaddon’s temples felt less like a war drum, but worry remained a heavy weight in his heart when he settled down, hugging the boy from behind as they listened to the distant voices outside.
The scent of wood, metal, and mildew was safety.
Gabriel huffed to show that he was disgruntled. Did he realize that he’d stabbed Abaddon?
Through a small gap between the planks of wood making up the shed, the figures of Father John and Martinez were moving shadows. And when Father John pointed to the shed, and led the way closer, the four thin walls that moments ago provided shelter now became a trap.
Abaddon grabbed the shears from Gabriel’s hand before shooting to his feet. His limbs would soon turn into weapons, and if Gabriel was to survive this, he needed to be swift and smart about the upcoming confrontation.
“Act normal when they enter,” he whispered, stepping into the nook that would end up obscured once the door opened.
Gabriel’s black eyes shone in the sparse light when they met Abaddon’s. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. At least he knew he’d done the wrong thing.
They both watched the approaching figures, but as the priest and the cop were about to turn the corner toward the shed’s door, they stopped. All hairs on Abaddon’s body bristled.
“I left this box of apricots for you,” Father John said and leaned toward the wall, so close Abaddon could see his crow’s feet through the crack in the wood without being spotted himself.
Martinez’s expression sweetened. “I’d prefer a different kind of peach, but I’ll take it.”
Father John scowled before turning his face away so only the back of his neck and thinning hair were visible. “Anything on Watson or Rogers?”
Ah, so the bastard was worried after all. Good.
Martinez sighed. “None of them showed up on flight registers. Rogers’ card has been used to withdraw a small amount of money once, on the day he left. He must have grabbed lunch before heading off. But I’ll be on the lookout.”
“Maybe they got cold feet,” Father John muttered with a shake of his head. “All this sacrifice, all that death, and now that the new cycle is about to begin, they’re fearful of what might come? I suppose you never know with people, even those you brought up.”
“Exactly my thoughts. We can’t have loose ends. Though they’d be incriminating themselves if they decided to confess. Going by the fact that they both left on the same day, I’m really thinking they might have planned it behind our backs. Do you want me to get some men on the search?”
“No, no! The last thing we need is cops sniffing around this place. Keeping them away is your job.”
Martinez nodded. “How’s Beatrice doing? No cracks in her resolve?”
“She is as pious as she’s always been. But don’t let her in on our concerns. No need to cause any more stress,” Father John said in a hard tone.
Martinez gave a long sigh. “What if they don’t show up in time for the ritual?”
Father John turned his head enough for Abaddon to see the man baring his teeth. “Then you get me two warm bodies to stand in. This is a time-sensitive issue.”