CHAPTER TEN

As Kyle paced up the steps of the church, he sensed this was it. He’d been to several churches in the area, but something told him this would be the right one. The windows were all boarded up with plywood, and he could sense that evil had visited this place. He could almost smell the girl in the air.

He found the door of the church open and scoffed to himself. Warmth and light spilled out of the crack, sliding down the steps like honey. The beauty of it was lost on Kyle. The tranquility of church was just something else for him to destroy. He’d left his teenage vampire army behind to continue the rampage he had started, and would return for them just as soon as he found out where Scarlet Paine was.

Kyle barged his way through the doors, making them screech.

The place was candlelit. Light danced off the ceiling from the little flames being stirred by the breeze. The church was mainly empty, but a handful of people were dotted around in the pews, praying or thumbing through the dog-eared Bibles. They glanced up at Kyle as he thundered past, bolting down the aisle. Some stood, sensing the danger like a sixth sense, and made their way out of the church.

Kyle stormed the stage and stood at the altar, glaring down at the few people left in the pews.

“Where is she? Where is Scarlet Paine?” he bellowed.

The people who just moments earlier were basking in the calmness of the church’s atmosphere were suddenly thrust abruptly back to reality. Kyle reveled in their frightened gazes.

Some nearer the doors began running down the aisle and back out into the cool evening, making the candles quivers as they passed. Those at the front seemed too scared to move.

Kyle leaned down and leered in the face of an older gentleman, whose crinkled eyes creased with terror.

“Where’s Scarlet Paine?” Kyle demanded.

“I don’t know who that is,” the old man replied in a cracked, aged voice.

“Who is the priest here?” Kyle asked.

“Father McMullen.”

Just then, Kyle heard a shuffling noise from his right. He looked right and saw the confession booth. The curtains were drawn.

Leaving the old man trembling in his seat, Kyle thundered over and ripped the curtain clean off its rail, the heavy fabric tearing from the force. A little old lady was sitting in the booth, looking like the last person in the world who had any sins to confess.

“Don’t hurt me,” she cried, holding her withered hands up for protection.

Kyle snarled and ripped the curtain from the other booth. And there sat the priest.

“Father McMullen,” Kyle stated.

He leaned into the booth and grabbed the man by his robes. In one fluid movement, he hauled him out the booth and set him on his feet in front of him. The old woman scampered away, joining the old man whom Kyle had terrorized moments before. The two shuffled along the aisle as fast as their old legs could carry them, crying out in watery voices that they would be calling the police. Kyle smirked, thinking how little help they would be.

Before him, Father McMullen trembled. His robe was all bunched up around his ears in Kyle’s fists.

“Brother,” he said, “I can help you. Whatever evil lurks within you, you can find redemption here. God will forgive you.”

Kyle gritted his teeth.

“It’s not God I want,” he spat. “It’s the girl. Scarlet Paine.”

A flicker of recognition passed through Father McMullen’s eyes.

“You know her,” Kyle stated, catching on immediately.

“I…” the priest stuttered. “I… do. The girl is troubled. What do you want with her?”

Kyle scoffed. “Troubled? You can say that again. The girl is monster. A demon. One of Satan’s angels sent straight to the Earth from Hell.”

Father McMullen nodded. “I know. She has been to this place.” He gestured to the boarded up windows. “She was the one who destroyed the windows.” He turned his anguished gaze back to Kyle. “The same darkness that lurks in her lurks within you too. But you want to destroy. Why? What do you want with her?”

His eyes were as round as full moons. Kyle took great delight in the fear he read in them.

He let go of the priest and smoothed down the front of his robes. Father McMullen stood there looking dumbfounded, as though torn between whether to speak or run or just break down and give himself up to the evil that seemed to land on his doorstep.

Kyle smiled and showed off his incisors.

“Don’t make me ask again,” he said.

The priest crossed himself.

“Forgive me, Holy Father,” he whispered, his fingers skimming across the rosary beads around his neck. “Forgive me for the sin I am about to commit but you have given me no signs.”

Tears glittered in his eyes. Kyle folded his arms impatiently.

Father McMullen’s face had turned completely white, blanched of all color. He kept muttering under his breath, begging God to forgive him, to guide him, to not test his faith in this manner. Finally, he spoke, his words coming out in staccato sobs.

“The girl’s mother is looking for her. She will lead you to her.”

The moment the words left his lips, Father McMullen broke down. He sank to his knees and tears shuddered through him, making his shoulders shake. Kyle narrowed his eyes, disgusted in the outpouring.

“Who is the girl’s mother?” he demanded.

“Her name is Caitlin Paine,” Father McMullen said, shaking his head, let his tears fall freely. “She’s a scholar. The last I heard she was going to see a professor friend in New York City. Aidan. A professor at…Columbia.”

Kyle felt triumphant. At last, some useful information. A name and a location. A direct link to Scarlet Paine. Find the mother, find the daughter.

He looked down at the weeping heap of Father McMullen.

“Well, Father, you’ve been most helpful,” he said.

He lowered himself into a crouch and held his hand out to shake Father McMullen’s. The priest looked up through his tear-stained eyes, his cheeks red and blotchy. His big, wide eyes bulged out of his bone-white face.

“Come on now,” Kyle said. “Shake on it, won’t you? You’ve done me a huge favor. I’m sure He up there is very pleased with your Christian behavior.”

The priest seemed paralyzed by fear. Finally, he reached out a shaking hand and slipped the clammy flesh into Kyle’s open palm.

At once, Kyle tightened his hand around the priest’s, so hard and fast that every bone in the man’s hand was crushed instantly. Crack crack crack. He screamed out in pain and peered up at Kyle.

“I gave you what you wanted!” he cried. “Why are you hurting me?”

Kyle looked down and licked his teeth. With a shrug he said, “Just for fun.”

As he sank his fangs into Father McMullen’s neck, the church echoed and echoed with his screams.