Thicker Than Blood (Thicker Than Blood #1)(23)

When I was finally able to pry my heavy eyes open, it wasn’t only the sound of singing that reminded me of my childhood. I was seated in a church—the front pew, to be precise—and there was a choir standing off to my right singing the last hymn, a benediction I knew by heart.

Similarities aside, the minister standing behind the podium was the exact opposite of my minister. This man was anything but miserable, and instead appeared to be hopped up on happiness. His smile was warm, his eyes shining as they scanned his congregation. A full head of thick brown curls framed his youthful and friendly face, and when he turned that face in my direction, he winked at me, his smile growing even wider.

Blinking, I shook my head as if it would somehow help clear the fuzz from my brain. When that didn’t seem to work, I closed my eyes and counted to ten, because this must be a hallucination or a dream.

That was it! I was dreaming.

Giving myself a good pinch on the arm, I opened my eyes, yet nothing had changed. Confused, I blinked several times, and then a few more for good measure. But nothing had changed. The merry minister was still there, bouncing about happily, clapping while he sang. Out of nowhere, the song suddenly reached a new volume, and my body responded by sending a sharp shooting pain screaming through my head from temple to temple.

When I glanced to my left, I found an older woman with gray hair, her eyes kind as she beamed at me. Scowling, I looked away, only to find the space to my right occupied as well. Another friendly face smiled at me, this one belonging to a middle-aged man who was lovingly cradling a shotgun in his lap.

Startled by the gun, I flinched and inched closer to the woman instead. She placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, and I flinched again. My behavior didn’t seem to faze either of them, they continued to smile as they sang, looking expectantly at me as if awaiting me to open my mouth and jump right in.

Shrugging the woman’s hand from my shoulder, I attempted to stand, but was immediately forced back down by both the woman and the man. Once I was seated again, they each took one of my arms, gripping the limb in their grasp. It was then that my mind fully cleared and I realized that Leisel and Alex weren’t here with me, wherever the hell here was.

Twisting around in my seat, I searched through the sparsely filled pews for any sign of my friends, coming up empty. Feeling suddenly sick, panicked, and more than a little afraid, I started to yell.

“Lei!” I screamed, interrupting the third verse of the hymn. “Leisel!”

Despite my cries, the choir sang on with wide, contented smiles on their faces. Not even a glance was spared in my direction, as if this insane scenario was utterly normal for them.

“Get off me!” I screamed, still twisting in my seat, trying to shake free of my captors. “Get the f*ck off me!”

The minister chose that moment to finally stop singing, and once he did, the entire church fell silent. His happy expression remained firmly in place, though something had changed. His eyes seemed different now, as if a darkness had crept in.

“You’re awake!” Clapping his hands together, he gave me a toothy grin. “Wonderful. Let me introduce myself, friend!” he continued cheerfully. “I’m Mr. Peter, and the good people seated next to you are Mr. Michael and Mrs. Mary!”

“Friend,” Mr. Michael greeted me, bowing his head.

I gawked at all three of these crazy people, my eyes bugging out of my head, my brain having trouble grasping what was really happening here.

“Friend,” Mrs. Mary said, releasing me in order to offer her hand.

Instead of taking it, I jumped up, catching Mr. Michael by surprise, and wrenched free from his grip on my arm. As I scrambled backward, both Mrs. Mary and Mr. Michael were already on their feet, reaching for me. Suddenly Mr. Peter was there, his white robes swishing around him as he stepped in front of them, blocking them from reaching me.

“That won’t be necessary, Mr. Michael,” he said, his eyes on me. “We’re all friends here, no need to panic.”

I scowled at him. “Where’s Leisel!” I demanded.

The minister cocked his head to one side, looking thoughtful. “I’m afraid I don’t know of a Leisel, friend.”

“The woman I was with!” I screamed, my hands twitching with the urge to wrap them around his neck. “Where are the people I was with?”

“Ah, your companions,” he replied calmly. “Why, they’re here. With us.” He gestured behind him, toward the congregation.

Desperate, I swung my head around, my eyes now wild as I searched for any sign of Alex or Leisel.

The church was small and dark, its windows boarded up. The walls were white, the carpet red, and candles have been placed throughout the entire space. There were more people here then I’d previously thought, twenty or so, although there might have been more considering I couldn’t see straight through to the very back. Still, I saw no sign of Leisel or Alex.

“Leisel!” I shouted again. “Leisel!”

Mr. Peter placed his hand on my arm. His grip was not harsh, in fact, his touch was gentle, probably meant to be a calming gesture, yet it had the opposite effect on me.

“They are here,” he said, his tone lower than before, with a hint of a threat. “They are within us all.” He pointed to himself and then spread his arms open wide, emphatically gesturing to everyone.

Sharply, I turned to look out at the congregation, finding them little more than happy statues. When I glanced back at Mr. Peter, my panic and fear reached their pinnacle and I lashed out. My fist connected with his jaw with a sickening crunch, and we both cried out in pain. But pain was the least of my concern. As he stumbled backward, I leaped, jumping on top of him, and sent him sprawling flat onto the floor. Screaming obscenities, I sent my fist again into his face, clawing at his skin, slapping at him, until hands gripped the back of my clothing and promptly yanked me to my feet.