Chapter 3

Pippa's POV

It’s going to be a difficult day.

I had a long night. I kept waking with the stranger’s menacing voice in my head, “Are you lying to me, little girl?” followed by that bone-chilling howl that broke through the serene silence.

My eyes are swollen and gritty, and as I walk down my short hallway to the bathroom, I keep bumping into the walls. I’m so tired I literally can’t walk straight.

The shower does nothing to help - neither does the cup of strong coffee. I don’t even bother to eat. I just want to get this day over and done with.

The priests and nuns have golf carts that they use to travel around the grounds, but I don’t have that luxury. I don’t even have a licence, because Miss Loretta didn’t think ‘my kind’ needed luxuries like driver’s licences. “You end up in one of three places,” she used to say. “In the convent, as a wife, or on your backs in a nasty hotel. None of those requires the ability to drive.”

She was an awful woman. It’s a sin to hate, I know, but I think I hate Miss Loretta. The rumour was that she was left at the altar when she was a young woman, and that’s why she hated men so much. And orphans, for some reason.

The morning is wet and cold, but at least the rain stopped. A few stubborn clouds cling to the sky, but they’ll be gone before this afternoon.

With heavy legs, I drag myself along the path, still too afraid to take my usual shortcut through the woods. Who knows what may lie in wait for me in there? Maybe the dangerous man with the black hair.

Even though I’m so tired that I’m basically sleepwalking to church, I’m on high alert. Every little bump and chirp and weird little scratch or squeak from the woods makes me jumpy.

I’m relieved when I reach the safety of my haven.

I go through the motions, steering clear of the sacristy this time, and set up everything needed for a smooth wedding ceremony.

While I wait for the decorators to show up, I sit in one of the pews and stare up at the altar.

“Pippa,” Adrian breathes in my ear. “You’re mine. You belong to me.”

I’m on fire with lust. I ache to feel him, to give him access to every secret part of my being. I don’t even care that it’s a sin. I just want his hands on me.

“Pippa wake up!”

With a gasp, my eyes fly open. Father Adrian is leaning over me, hands on either side of my head. “I fell asleep.”

“It happens. Be glad I’m the one who found you and not someone else.”

“Why?”

He raises his eyebrows and looks down at my chest, then straight back up at my face. I glance down and almost die of embarrassment. While I slept, my buttons popped open, and the black skirt worked its way up my thighs. “Sorry, Father.”

“I don’t mind,” he says, his voice low and husky. “What were you dreaming about?”

“Nothing,” I lie.

Adrian grins at me and comes close enough to put his mouth right by my ear. “I don’t believe that for a second,” he says. “I know you dreamed of me.”

My heart almost stops. How the hell does he know that?

“The people for the wedding are here,” he says and nonchalantly strolls away.

I straighten my clothes, and button up my blouse before I open the church for the wedding party. Once they’re inside and I’m sure they don’t need me, I sneak off to the storage room. I have every intention to sort through the mountain of donations so Sister June can deliver the various items on Monday, but I am just too tired.

I crawl onto a soft pile of blankets but don’t go back to sleep. I stare up at the dark roof, thinking about the stranger that crossed my path last night, and the unbearably handsome Father Adrian. Of all the churches in the world, why did he have to come to mine?

I have never been attracted to anyone. I’ve never even looked at a man twice. If I didn’t have foolish romantic notions of meeting the perfect man and starting a family one day, I would have joined the convent, but I’ve clung to that silly little hope ever since I could remember.

The door swings open with a soft squeak and my stomach clenches into painful knots. “Are you in here?” Father Adrian asks softly.

Is he following me? “Yes, Father.”

He closes the door behind him and I hear the soft click of the lock. Soon after, he switches off the light, plunging us into complete darkness.

My mouth turns to sandpaper and my heart starts to beat out a samba against my ribcage.

What is he doing?

I should be very afraid right now. Priest or not, I’m locked in a dark room alone with a man I barely know, but I’m alive with nervous excitement and anticipation.

Stop it! I chastise myself. It’s a sin. He’s a priest. He’s not going to do anything.

“Are you hiding from someone?” he asks.

Yes, you. “No, Father.”

“My name is Adrian.”

“Your name is Father.”

He laughs breezily. I can practically feel him approaching me. My stomach explodes with butterflies and I tremble so badly that I’m afraid I’ll fall off my makeshift bed.

I feel, more than see, as the priest kneels next to me. “Are you afraid of me, Pippa?”

“A little,” I answer. It’s easier to be honest when you can’t see the person’s face.

“Why?”

“You- you make me…feel things.”

“Hm-hm,” he grunts. “And you’ve never felt these things before?”

“No.”

Out of nowhere, his warm hand falls on my hip, and a solitary finger traces along the length of my hipbone. My body comes alive and crackles with electricity, but I don’t move, I don’t even breathe.

He sighs deeply, a sound that’s so heartbreaking that I almost burst into tears. “I wish it could have been different.”

“What?” I ask, completely forgetting that the priest is touching me in a very intimate and inappropriate way. I should stop it, but I can’t…I don’t want to.

“You, me, us. This whole damn life.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know you don’t. You feel different when you’re with me, don’t you?”

 “Yes.”

“Does it confuse you?”

“Yes,” I answer. “Why do you ask?”

He ignores my question completely. “Don’t let it scare you, Pippa. The feelings will go away.”

That’s easy for him to say. Every time he comes near me, my mind gets all jumbled up, and I want to do unspeakable things with him. “This is how girls like you end up on their back for a man,” I hear Miss Loretta’s voice in my head. “This is how you sin.”

Tears spill over my cheeks, and I’m glad for the pitch-black darkness. I don’t like to cry in front of others.

I don’t know if he can see me, or maybe he just hears me, but the hand on my hip goes away and cups my cheek. Gentle thumbs wipe tears from my skin.

The effect of his touch is completely different this time. It gives me comfort and peace and I don’t want it to ever stop. “It’s all right, my sweet girl,” he says, his voice so low and husky that I can barely hear him. “One day, this will all just be a memory,” he rests his lips against my ear as he did in the church earlier. “You’ll always be safe with me. I’ll always protect you.”

The heat of his body goes away. A minute later, the dull light from the desk lamp dispels some of the darkness, and I look up just in time to get a glimpse of his back before he closes the door behind him.

I stay in the storage room for several hours, sorting through everything while I try and try again to make sense of the things Father Adrian had said to me, but I can’t find any answers.

Finally, as the wedding ceremony ends, I finish up for the day and go to clean the church. Wedding goers make such a mess, and they never think about the poor sod who has to clean up after them.

I’m so consumed by the chore of sweeping up the rice littering the walkway, that I don’t notice the horror twins approaching me. It’s not until they’re almost on top of me that I look up and see them approach. For a split second, I freeze up as I always do when I’m scared, then I remember what they said yesterday.

Werewolves can’t enter a human church.

I drop the broom and make a run for the church.

I almost don’t make it. They are fast. Too fast for humans. One, I don’t know which, grabs my blouse and tries to pull me back, but I am not about to let them take me without a fight. I jerk hard and hear the back of my shirt tear away.

A cool breeze against my heated skin spurs me on. I let out a primal scream, and from the right, I catch a glimpse of Owen, the custodian, coming around the corner on his lawnmower. “Hey,” he screams loud enough to be heard over the growling engine. “You there. What do you think you’re doing?”

Then I’m inside the church. I don’t even remember running up the steps, but I’m inside and I’m safe. “Pippa?” Father Abraham asks. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” I start to cry and babble uncontrollably. “There are these men and they keep showing up, I think they’re following me…they chased me, and they’re werewolves…and…” I realise what I just said and simply stop talking.

“Oh dear,” Father Abraham says in his kindly way. “Werewolves, you say?”

“No, not werewolves. I don’t know, Father,” I say, feeling the delayed panic set in. My voice rises higher and higher in pitch as I try to explain it to him. “They think they’re werewolves or something. They were here yesterday, talking crazy…I think they’re on drugs maybe. Father…weird things are happening to me. I don’t know how to explain it. I don’t know what to-”

“Father,” Owen says as he rushes into the church, cutting me off. “Telephone the police. Two men just tried to grab our Pippa.”

Father Abraham’s eyes widen a little. I have a feeling up until now he didn’t believe a word I said.

“Look at her shirt, Father,” Owen went on. “Just look what they did to her. She’s all scratched up.”

“What?” I ask, and try to look over my shoulder. I felt it when he ripped my blouse, but I didn’t feel any pain. I still don’t.

Father Abraham turns me around and grunts softly. “Owen,” he says. “Run and fetch Sister June. I’ll phone for the constable.”

The priest leads me over to the nearest pew and orders me to sit down while he digs his phone out of his pocket. “Can I help?” Father Adrian asks in his calm, soothing baritone.

Why is he always here? Always right around the corner. Like he’s waiting for me.