Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 84838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Except for the faces in the windows.
The Malevolent stood there and stared inside, still, just watching me.
You couldn’t make this shit up.
I stared back at them for a while, hoping my hostility would break their eye contact.
It didn’t.
I looked forward again and started to move down the aisle toward the front.
There were two women there dressed like me, on their knees before the large cross at the front of the room. With their palms together, they looked like they were truly praying.
One woman sat alone in the row, facing straight ahead, her wings flattened against the chair behind her because she didn’t bend them first so she could sit. She clearly didn’t give a damn.
My kind of girl.
I moved down the aisle and took a seat beside her. “Can you believe this shit?”
She turned her head toward me, long brown hair like mine, her eyes slightly lifeless like Beatrice’s. “No.” Her eyes shifted past me and looked out the windows.
I followed her stare and looked at the skull heads pressed to the glass to watch us. I turned back to her with my eyes wide with incredulity.
“You get used to it.” She extended her hand to me. “Laura.”
I shook her hand. “Constance.”
She turned her head to look at the front.
I watched her, watched her watch the women at the front. “So, what the fuck is going on?”
“They’re praying for forgiveness for their demons.”
“What?” I hissed. “They buy into this?”
“Some. Others put on a show.”
“Why would anyone put on a show for these sickos?”
She turned back to me, her lips painted cherry red with smoky makeup around her eyes. “To stay alive.”
Fear flooded my veins when I heard her words, heard the crestfallen tone to her voice. “Forneus said it’s a sin to hurt an angel…”
“It is. But what happens when they find out you aren’t one?”
Now my heart pounded harder than it ever had. I was terrified just the way I’d been at the theatre, in my apartment, on the street. My life was in danger, and those fight-or-flight instincts kicked in. “The graveyard is…”
She nodded. “The Graveyard of Fallen Angels is what they call it.”
“Oh Jesus…”
“So, I suggest you put on an act and make them believe—because your life depends on it.”
The sun moved in the sky to mark the time. There were no clocks here, so that was the only way to distinguish anything in this place. I had no idea what day of the week it was, and without a phone to display the date, it was hard to keep track of the amount of time I’d been there.
I had no idea how many nights I’d slept there.
Maybe a week?
Maybe two?
The shadows changed, but the Malevolent remained at the windows, remained watchful as if their lives depended on it. Some would leave, only to be replaced by others. We were animals in a cage, and they were visiting a zoo. It was just a stare, but it was still a huge invasion into my personal space, and the longer their stares continued, the more uncomfortable I became. “There’s got to be a way out of here.”
Laura ignored them much better than I did. Her hands rested in her lap, and she continued to stare at the cross at the front, watching the other girls light candles and say their prayers. “There’s one—death.”
“I don’t accept that.”
“I’ve been here for two years, and I’ve never figured it out.”
“Have you tried to run?”
“Run?” She turned back to me, her light-colored eyes small in accusation. “Run where, exactly? Have you looked around? We’re near the Alps, which means we’re in the middle of nowhere in France. The closest village has to be a hundred miles. You expect me to run a hundred miles in the heat? The snow?”
“We’re in a first world country. There has to be a town nearby.”
She shook her head. “The only coming and going is done through horses and wagons…so I really don’t think so. Sometimes the occasional chopper.”
“Then we fight.”
She gave me another incredulous look. “Do you know how to fight?”
“Well…no.”
“Then that sounds like a terrible plan.”
“They probably have weapons around here somewhere.”
“I never see them carry anything but daggers.”
“But how would they fight off an enemy?”
“An enemy?” she asked. “We aren’t in the eighteenth century.”
“It sure feels like it.” It felt like I wasn’t in reality at all.
“We’re in a cult. Plain and simple. All we can do is keep surviving.”
“Keep surviving?” I looked forward at the girls then turned back to her. “Maybe we have different definitions of living, but this isn’t it. We can’t do nothing. Because at some point, they’re going to realize none of us are angels, and we’re all going to die. I’m surprised you’ve made it this long.”
She gave a sarcastic chuckle. “I’m quite the actress…”
“Well, I’m not. I can’t be what these freaks want me to be. We work together and figure out a plan.”