Raphael (Deadly Virtues #1)(33)

“Maria,” Raphael said as Gabriel turned to leave. Gabriel stilled. “Her name is Maria.” Gabriel closed his eyes. Knowing her name made it exponentially worse. Maria. Gabriel had just signed the death warrant of a young woman named Maria.

Gabriel climbed the first few steps of the staircase, following the wall’s bend until he was out of sight. The minute he was hidden from view, his legs gave way and his back hit the wall. He slid down the cold stone and sat down on a hard step. Gabriel’s head fell into his hands. He had just given a murderer permission to kill an innocent. Something he had vowed never to do.

He focused on breathing through the burning fire of guilt in his chest. But as he concentrated on not falling apart, he heard, “Yes, brother!” Bara’s unmistakable voice sailed to Gabriel’s ears. “You’re getting it. Getting the kill. What we all dream of. You’ve won the damn lottery!”

“Grab the pen and paper from over there. I need to get some things for her.”

Gabriel was frozen as he heard the sound of feet moving across the stone floor.

It was silent for a few minutes, until, “Nice. Though I take it you need one of us to get all this from our not-so-pure friends.” Sela laughed.

“Yes. And I need it all tonight. But the main piece . . .” Raphael paused; Gabriel knew he would be smiling in excitement. “That only arrives when it’s perfect. It must be perfect. You design it, Sela. You know what I want.”

“On it, Raphe.” Gabriel heard Sela move to the back of the Tomb and place a call to one of the many unsavory men they dealt with. Black-market friends, as John Miller had told him when he had given Gabriel the black book full of contacts.

“So, what’s the play?” Uriel asked.

“Seduce her. Spend days inside her. I’m gonna possess her, consume her, make her need me to live.” Raphael’s voice was low and serious, laced with dark determination. Gabriel’s eyes moved in the direction of the base of the stairs, as if he were looking into Raphael’s golden eyes and watching his face light with excitement. “Then I’ll kill her. Kill her so perfectly I’ll never forget it.” Raphael inhaled a loud stuttered breath. “No kill will ever measure up again. It will be what I’ve waited for all my life.”

Gabriel’s body felt as if he had been swallowed by a bath of ice water. The back of his head hit the stone wall of the manor he had inherited from his serial killer grandfather.

Gabriel was exhausted. He couldn’t move even if he’d wanted to.

The priests had been right. He always knew they had been. It had become more and more obvious over the years. The Brethren had rightly detected something sinister running through the veins of his brothers.

Gabriel thought back to Father Quinn, to the Brethren’s priests, to how they treated the boys in Purgatory. They never gave any of them a chance at redemption. They didn’t try to understand them. Just branded them damned and began their exorcisms in earnest. Gabriel cursed the priests for not helping them when they had been boys. What they did didn’t purge his brothers of their evil thoughts and desires. Instead, the corrupt sect of priests had dragged them further into the darkness, stripping away any hope of salvation. Hurting them, brutalizing them, and humiliating them, until there was no good left in their souls. No flicker of light that could be fostered and aided back onto the path of good. Now, they were all as dark as midnight, not a single star illuminating their godless worlds.

The Brethren had made his brothers believe that people were only out to hurt them. That they didn’t belong among normal society.

Gabriel didn’t know how to heal them, how to cure them. As he sat on the stone step, he was consumed with helplessness.

“You’re an incubus, Raphe,” Diel said, and Gabriel caught the low laughter from his other brothers in the Tomb. “This woman doesn’t stand a chance. She’ll be yours in no time.”

Gabriel exhaled a shaky breath and forced himself to move. He would never show his brothers how much their lifestyles destroyed him. He had agreed to this. He had been the one to adopt his grandfather’s system. This was his idea. Not theirs. They had been made to feel inferior their entire lives. Gabriel wouldn’t be another to cast a stone on their already battered souls.

Gabriel crossed the foyer and went to his office. Retrieving the medical bag from his desk, he made his way on unsteady feet to the day room and knocked on the door. When he walked into the room, Maria was sitting on the couch, arms wrapped around her bent legs. Gabriel swallowed back his shame at what he was about to let happen.

“Father,” Maria said as he approached.

Gabriel stared down at her, at the hair that wrapped around her body like a cocoon. Maria was clearly religious, Catholic. That was nothing new in Boston. Gabriel understood it must have been how the Brethren tasked her with seeking out Raphael. But he didn’t want to know if she was part of a congregation he knew. He didn’t want to know if she had a strong faith. As he looked at Maria, her blue eyes warily locked on him.

Gabriel dropped to his knees and opened his bag. Silently, he took out the thick elastic band. Maria watched him closely. “Hold out your arm,” he said. Maria only hesitated for a second before she did as he asked. She didn’t ask him why. She just did as he ordered. Gabriel squeezed his eyes closed and took a calming breath. She was perfect for Raphael. He had no idea why she was so submissive, especially when faced with a stranger. With danger. But she obeyed and offered her arm for him to do with what he wanted.