Page 92 of Roses & Ruin

I recognize where I am in snippets.

The hard, cold pew beneath me. Low, flickering candlelight. My harsh, shallow breaths echoing against cavernous, stony walls. The pillars. The giant stained-glass window of a saint shoving a lance through the chest of a shadow monster.

The church. I’m at the church where Hayden saved me, revealed his truth to me.

“Nice place, right? Love the vibe.” I jerk my head toward her voice to find Delia sitting on top of the altar, one leg tucked against her chest, the other dangling over the side, swinging back and forth. “You’re welcome, by the way. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have had your sexy little vampire-reveal party here. Could’ve had you jump off the campus bell tower, but there’s no stained glass there. Not as picturesque, you know?”

I lick my lips, dry as sandpaper. Delia was the one behind my sleepwalking episode?

A low, pained groan turns my blood to ice. Delia glances down at the base of the altar, and I stand up, shaking horribly, to follow her line of sight. I clap my hands over my mouth.

“Hayden,” I choke.

Hayden, wrists and ankles handcuffed, is slumped over on the ground, unconscious. Strangely, he looks drenched in water, his shirt and jeans soaked and his hair plastered to his skull. His skin is gray, and he’s not moving. Not even a little.

“Oh, don’t worry.” Delia nudges Hayden’s chin with her ballet flat. “Just a little holy water. Come on. You think I’d kill him right now? After everything? Please. I thought you knew me.” She purses her lips, and her voice drops to a whisper. “I’m gonna take my time with him.”

Delia hops off the altar and looks down at Hayden thoughtfully, nudging him again with her foot. When he groans, it sounds worse this time.

This can’t be real. I squeeze my eyes shut and lean heavily against the back of the pew, trying not to puke.

I need to keep her from hurting Hayden more. How?

My eyes snap open, and I look wildly around the church for anything helpful. A couple rows back, hanging on one of the stone support pillars, I find it: a wooden cross with tapered ends. It’s not much.

But it’s something.

Delia’s still staring down at Hayden, looking deep in thought. I hold my breath, inch my way out of the pew, willing my heart to stay calm.

I break into a run.

Delia’s laugh echoes behind me, but I make it to the pillar and swipe the cross, holding it like a knife. I whirl around, but Delia’s not at the altar. She’s not anywhere.

“My, my, so disrespectful.” Delia’s breath brushes my temple, and she hooks her cold chin over my shoulder, pressing close against me. She slips the cross from my hand and takes ahold of my index finger. “This is a gentle reminder for you to mind your elders.”

With a sickening crack, Delia bends my finger back until it lies completely flush against my hand. I scream, the pain so shocking and sudden I double over, gasping, my stomach lurching.

Delia grabs my hair and drags me back. “Don’t do that.” She throws me down on the front pew, where I cradle my injured hand to my chest. Delia wags the cross at me, looking terribly disappointed. “Must I remind you that you have nine other fingers and ten more toes? Not to mention teeth. And if that’s not enough?” Delia presses the sharp end of the cross against Hayden’s temple.

I go completely still. Compliant.

“That’s what I thought.” Delia leans against the altar, dropping her head back with a sigh and twirling the cross.

I’m trying very hard not to cry. Something tells me I’ll be punished for it. Which is ironic, given that before tonight, the one person I felt the safest crying in front of was Delia. The thought pushes me over the edge, and, horrifyingly, I feel tears leak out of the corner of my eye. When Delia notices, I turn my face away.

“Sorry,” I say thickly. “I’ll be quiet. Just, please don’t hurt him any more.” I feel a whoosh, and Delia’s suddenly sitting beside me on the pew, offering me a thick white cloth with a small cross embroidered on the edge.

“Jesus, Rose,” she says gently. “I’m not a monster. You can cry, for fuck’s sake. Here. Have a chalice veil.”

“I don’t understand,” I whisper. “I meant it when I said I loved you.”

Delia slides her eyes over to Hayden’s inert form.

“I know you did,” she says finally.

“I think Hayden meant it too. He really does care—”

An earsplitting crack shuts me up. Delia’s snapped off a huge chunk of pew in her fist. She stands up, throwing it over her shoulder, and wipes her mouth.