Raphael (Deadly Virtues #1)(36)

Father Murray pulled at his hair. He didn’t care if Sister Maria was dead. He cared that Raphael had bested him again.

His skin itched with fury. His muscles twitched with the need to do something. To go after the heathen. Father Quinn had to reconsider his stance. Before Father Murray could see sense, he jumped out of his chair, the buzz from the whiskey in his blood taking the wheel. He stormed down Purgatory’s barren hallway until he arrived at Father Quinn’s door. Without even knocking, Father Murray slammed his way through the high priest’s quarters. He stopped at the desk. Father Quinn was changing his robes, his bare chest on display. Father Murray’s cock hardened as he looked at the man who had been his teenage savior. The man who had rid him of his own demon.

Father Quinn paused in his dressing. Father Murray knew the high priest must have returned from cleansing a child.

“Father Murray.” Father Quinn’s voice was neutral in tone, but Father Murray felt the shivers race down his spine at the angered expression on his face. “You weren’t invited in here.”

“We have to get Sister Maria,” he snapped. Father Quinn dropped his shirt to the floor. The zipper of his slacks were open, his underwear’s band visible underneath. “He can’t have her. He needs to be stopped. I’m sick of them winning! Sick of their sins and evil ways.”

Father Murray panted after his tirade. Father Quinn was deathly silent, until, “Come here, Francis.” Father Murray lost his breath as Father Quinn stepped back from his desk by a foot. The high priest’s cock hardened under his slacks. With Father Murray’s attention still on him, Father Quinn pulled out his length. “In front of me, demon.” Father Murray felt the demon inside him scuttling away to hide. But he ignored the rushing of his evil-tainted blood and moved to Father Quinn. Turning, Father Murray bent over his high priest’s desk, lifted his robes, and pulled down his pants. His hands lay flat on the old wooden desk before him. He felt Father Quinn take hold of hips, and he held his breath as Father Quinn pushed inside him. Father Murray’s eyes rolled back. This was what he needed. Like when he was a boy, he needed Father Quinn to rid him of his evil, keep the devil at bay. Sweat beaded on Father Murray’s forehead as pleasure began to build in his groin. He fought back a moan, but the sound slipped from his lips. Father Quinn stilled. The older man leaned over him, and Father Quinn’s mouth met his ear. “I cleanse you of the evil in your soul.” He slammed into Father Murray. Father Murray cried out, but Father Quinn didn’t stop. Instead, he pushed on, Father Murray’s cock growing impossibly hard. Then Father Murray felt it. The agonizing rush of pain in his erection. He glanced down to see Father Quinn’s hands on his cock, a fine needle being pushed into the tip. Blood poured from him, lancing the evil from his flesh. His cock quickly lost its erection, and Father Quinn released inside him, purifying him of the ever-threatening darkness that would forever dwell inside him.

Father Murray laid his cheek on the wooden table, the needle still in his dick. Father Quinn pulled out, his holy seed dripping down Father Murray’s legs. Father Murray felt like he was fourteen again. An evil boy being exorcised by Father Quinn.

He’d saved him.

Father Murray loved him.

Father Quinn came to stand beside him, cock spent. Father Murray stared up at him. Father Quinn’s hand pressed to his cheek. “There, Francis. The darkness is defeated for another day.”

“Thank you, Father,” he whispered, voice fractured with the heady cocktail of pain and pleasure. Father Quinn reached down and pulled the needle from Father Murray’s soft cock. Father Murray knew there’d be another scar to add to his already ruined flesh. But they were scars of triumph over evil. Of his ongoing battle with the devil.

One that his high priest would never let him lose.

Father Quinn held his hand out for Father Murray. Father Murray kissed his fingers, and Father Quinn rewarded him with a caress on the cheek. Kneeling down, Father Quinn stroked Father Murray’s sweaty hair. “You need to practice patience, my child. God will bring the Fallen into our arms again. You must be patient. They may have won this battle, but we will win the crusade.”

“Yes, Father.” Father Murray got to his feet. He tucked his throbbing cock into his pants and left the room. Dazed and light-headed, he made his way to his room, feeling calmer now that Father Quinn had silenced the demon in his soul.

Forcing himself to sit, Father Murray poured another whiskey. The fire roared before him, the hot flames matching his inner ambition. “One day, Raphael,” he said to the almost-ruined photograph. “I’ll destroy you.” Father Murray smiled. “And you will finally repent.”





Chapter Seven


Maria wasn’t sure how long she had been waiting in the day room. There was no clock on the wall. She glanced down at the Band-Aid on her arm. Peeling it back, she took it from her skin and stared down at the tiny mark where the priest, Gabriel, had taken her blood. She had no idea why. But she didn’t argue. What was the point?

You are not to leave his rooms again . . .

She wasn’t going home. It was done. God had shown her His decision through Gabriel.

It is decided.

Maria took a calming breath and thought back to the room full of men. She tried to make sense of what she had found. Were they all killers? Did Father Quinn and Father Murray know? And Gabriel, the priest. Was he facilitating this evil behavior?