The Priest's Graveyard by Ted Dekker

through several rooms at once. “This is yours?”
    “The house? Do you like it?”
    “It’s all glass?”
    “I like to see where I’m going,” he said, then laughed. “Come on.”
    He led me down a long hall to what looked like a living room. All the furnishings were square, covered in black and white
     leather with chrome and stainless-steel trim. The walls were double-paned glass, each pane a full inch thick. Only the white
     doors and a marble-tiled floor appeared not to be glass.
    “You live in a glass house,” I said.
    “Not all of it. The bedrooms and kitchen are private, naturally. And my suite is one floor down. But yes, I guess you could
     say that. Let me show you the best part.”
    He led me through the living room, past a large black table on which sat a silver bowl filled with red apples, to a panel
     of black buttons on the wall.
    “I often keep the blinds down at night, but…” He pushed a button.
    As one, the white blinds all around us began to rise. Glass walls, from floor to ceiling, looked out over a rocky beach and
     an endless ocean.
    I gasped as the scene was revealed. Jagged cliffs punished by silent foaming waves rose on either side of the house. The sky
     was a brilliant blue with a few fluffy white clouds scattered about. The house was built up on stilts, and wooden stairs circled
     down to the beach.
    I felt giddy. Paradise was right there in front of me!
    “I take it you approve?” he asked.
    “Do I approve?” I hugged him as tightly as my frail arms could. “It’s beautiful! Can we go outside?”
    Lamont chuckled. “No. It’s far too dangerous.”
    “Dangerous?”
    “You’re just out of bed, my dear.” He cupped my chin when he said it, and for a moment we looked at each other. He was tender,
     he was masculine, he was wealthy, he was holding me. I wanted to crawl up into his arms.
    He kissed my forehead, then started to say something, but I reached up on my tiptoes and kissed him on the lips. “Thank you,”
     I whispered.
    He blushed, then turned to the ocean. “Please, don’t do that.”
    I was confused. “I’m sorry, I—”
    “I don’t want to take advantage of you.” He looked at me, then took my face in both of his hands. “Do you understand? Don’t
     get me wrong…I…”
    He leaned over and kissed me. I felt a tremble in his hands as he gently took my lips in his.
    Flushed, he stood back, releasing me. I reached for the glass wall to steady myself, but he intercepted my hand before I could
     touch it.
    “I’m sorry,” he said. “I wasn’t thinking.”
    We stood in an awkward silence for a moment. I didn’t know if he was sorry for kissing me or for letting me go.
    “Here, sit.” He led me to a white leather sofa, and I eased myself down. “Better?”
    “Yes.”
    An elaborate display of electronics covered the wall to our left. Seeing my interest, he went to it and punched a few buttons.
     Orchestral music filled the room.
    “Beethoven,” he said, turning back. “Over a thousand albums, and they’re all yours to listen to. If you choose, that is.”
    “It’s beautiful.”
    “Would you like to?”
    “I love the music.”
    “Well…” Lamont returned and sat down next to me. “I was thinking of something else. Where are you going to go? When you’re
     better?”
    “I…I don’t know.”
    “You could stay here.”
    “I could?”
    “You don’t have to, of course. The choice is entirely up to you.”
    “You mean…”
    “I mean you could live with me. Here.”
    “Really?”
    “We’d have to establish some rules. I don’t exactly lead an ordinary life, and I’m very particular about some things, but
     yes.”
    The idea excited me more than I would dare show him. It occurred to me that I didn’t know much about the man who’d rescued
     me and brought me into his home. He was wealthy, that much was obvious. He was a beautiful man both physically and spiritually.
     He’d rescued me, and the monsters hadn’t made an