all of us, I wouldn't have thought you'd have—"
"You are about to represent God. Consider your words carefully..."
Martin had some strange interpretations of scripture better left to God for sorting out.
The door into the back of the church swung open.
"It's time,” the young altar boy blurted out.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter 9
Sephora sat up in bed, gasping. The image of Kieran burning to death was still imprinted in her mind. She couldn't lose him.
The bed was empty. Sunlight shone on her. She shielded her eyes. Inside, the pull and connection to him had deepened. She was sure he wasn't dead yet. In the nightmare, the church clock stopped at 10:10. Kieran placed his hand on the Bible and said his vows. The man in a purple robe blessed him and Kieran had burst into flames. She couldn't allow that to happen. It could all be in her imagination, but she didn't care. If she made a fool of herself, he was worth it.
She tossed the covers off. The scars on her legs were gone. His blood had healed the markings those demons had tried to make her live with her entire life. He'd given her back her body. Why didn't he see the good that she saw shining through him? Tears filled the surface of her eyes.
Jumping out of bed, she grabbed a blouse and skirt. She hadn't been to a church since she was a child, but she was sure that jeans or tight pants wouldn't do. There was no time to fuss over her hair, so she tossed it up into a ponytail. Her suede, clunky heeled boots were the only footwear that would allow her to run and would go with what she wore. Not a Sunday hat in her closet to save her life. Best she not make note of it to her mama.
"Are you really going to burst into a church and try to talk him out of his plan?” she said, staring at her reflection. “If I don't try, I'll regret it forever.” The four love-bite marks on her neck from the night she'd shared with Kieran looked raw. She covered the area with Band-Aids, not to arouse anyone's suspicions. She didn't want to alert anyone to what Kieran was.
She dressed, and grabbed her shades before running out. Fog settled on the path to the seminary. Her heart pounded in her chest. What if she was too late? No, she could sense him and the mix of emotions, but didn't seem able to speak to him as he had with her. It didn't make any sense that he thought he was doing this for her. She wanted him as he was.
"Please don't let him die in such a painful way,” she prayed between breaths. Aside from her own selfish desire not to lose him, she couldn't fathom the agony of such a death. No god could want his child to suffer in this way. Not when his son had already suffered for our sins.
As she reached the property's edge, she couldn't figure out how to get to the church, which seemed to be moving farther away. A number of students followed a man they called Father O'Brian.
"Excuse me, Father.” Her voice was unexpectedly steady.
"Yes, my child.” He eyed the Band-Aids on her neck.
"I'm looking for a friend. He is being ordained today. Deacon Lorcan Kieran."
"The ceremony has begun,” he said.
Tears pooled in her eyes. Her legs wobbled. “Please take me to him. I beg of you."
He stepped closer. “Are you his lon dubh ?"
" Ta me ag. Ta me buartha do .” Yes, I am. I'm worried for him. How she suddenly spoke Gaelic she didn't know. There were so many strange things happening to her. But none of it would matter if she didn't save Kieran.
"As am I. Come, my child, this way,” he said. “I've tried to speak with him. You might be able to reason with him."
Droplets slid along her cheek. “I can't lose him."
"You love him?” he asked, and stopped.
She nodded, unable to speak. Her body trembled with fear.
He guided her through narrow passages out into the courtyard. “He's blessed to have someone who cares for him so deeply. May you have success where I have failed."
"You know about what he is? You see the good in him still, don't you?” She couldn't
"You are about to represent God. Consider your words carefully..."
Martin had some strange interpretations of scripture better left to God for sorting out.
The door into the back of the church swung open.
"It's time,” the young altar boy blurted out.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter 9
Sephora sat up in bed, gasping. The image of Kieran burning to death was still imprinted in her mind. She couldn't lose him.
The bed was empty. Sunlight shone on her. She shielded her eyes. Inside, the pull and connection to him had deepened. She was sure he wasn't dead yet. In the nightmare, the church clock stopped at 10:10. Kieran placed his hand on the Bible and said his vows. The man in a purple robe blessed him and Kieran had burst into flames. She couldn't allow that to happen. It could all be in her imagination, but she didn't care. If she made a fool of herself, he was worth it.
She tossed the covers off. The scars on her legs were gone. His blood had healed the markings those demons had tried to make her live with her entire life. He'd given her back her body. Why didn't he see the good that she saw shining through him? Tears filled the surface of her eyes.
Jumping out of bed, she grabbed a blouse and skirt. She hadn't been to a church since she was a child, but she was sure that jeans or tight pants wouldn't do. There was no time to fuss over her hair, so she tossed it up into a ponytail. Her suede, clunky heeled boots were the only footwear that would allow her to run and would go with what she wore. Not a Sunday hat in her closet to save her life. Best she not make note of it to her mama.
"Are you really going to burst into a church and try to talk him out of his plan?” she said, staring at her reflection. “If I don't try, I'll regret it forever.” The four love-bite marks on her neck from the night she'd shared with Kieran looked raw. She covered the area with Band-Aids, not to arouse anyone's suspicions. She didn't want to alert anyone to what Kieran was.
She dressed, and grabbed her shades before running out. Fog settled on the path to the seminary. Her heart pounded in her chest. What if she was too late? No, she could sense him and the mix of emotions, but didn't seem able to speak to him as he had with her. It didn't make any sense that he thought he was doing this for her. She wanted him as he was.
"Please don't let him die in such a painful way,” she prayed between breaths. Aside from her own selfish desire not to lose him, she couldn't fathom the agony of such a death. No god could want his child to suffer in this way. Not when his son had already suffered for our sins.
As she reached the property's edge, she couldn't figure out how to get to the church, which seemed to be moving farther away. A number of students followed a man they called Father O'Brian.
"Excuse me, Father.” Her voice was unexpectedly steady.
"Yes, my child.” He eyed the Band-Aids on her neck.
"I'm looking for a friend. He is being ordained today. Deacon Lorcan Kieran."
"The ceremony has begun,” he said.
Tears pooled in her eyes. Her legs wobbled. “Please take me to him. I beg of you."
He stepped closer. “Are you his lon dubh ?"
" Ta me ag. Ta me buartha do .” Yes, I am. I'm worried for him. How she suddenly spoke Gaelic she didn't know. There were so many strange things happening to her. But none of it would matter if she didn't save Kieran.
"As am I. Come, my child, this way,” he said. “I've tried to speak with him. You might be able to reason with him."
Droplets slid along her cheek. “I can't lose him."
"You love him?” he asked, and stopped.
She nodded, unable to speak. Her body trembled with fear.
He guided her through narrow passages out into the courtyard. “He's blessed to have someone who cares for him so deeply. May you have success where I have failed."
"You know about what he is? You see the good in him still, don't you?” She couldn't
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