It was raining that night. Not uncommon in November.

  Jill trudged to her room, exhausted. Cleaning, chores, pretending—it was all wearing thin. At least the new girl could drive. All she wanted was sleep. Or a fight. Anything to feel something real.

  She opened her bedroom door and froze.

  Thomas sat at her desk, feet up, thumbing through her Bible like he owned the place.

  “And here I thought the hard part of my day was over,” she sighed, slumping onto the bed. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  Thomas held up a small eight-pointed star. “Why was your room warded?”

  “You’re allowed werewolf friends, but let one pagan give me a gift and you’re ready to try me for heresy?”

  “Okay.” He shrugged. “But why did I find a bone in the phone you gave me? That’s not a dime-store pagan blessing. That’s necromancy.”

  Jill tensed. She had to think fast. “I certainly didn’t put it there.” True enough—Annie had given her the phone.

  “Let’s say I grant that. When was the last time you were at Mass? You’re on omission, Jill. The priest doesn’t even know your name.”

  “You want to know the last time I was at Mass?” Her voice cracked into a scream. “It was when you and that nightmare machine stormed our chapter! When our Order—the good and the bad—was wiped from the earth like a vampire den!”

  “Where did you get the strings to pull this job? To get me my job? Why are you here, Squire?”

  “Unlike you, Thomas, I never stopped hunting.” She spat the words. “I never had the luxury. I didn’t get to start an orphanage for freaks or play granddad to a child werewolf! No—I’ve been at war. Revenge. Justice. God’s work!”

  Thomas sat silent, letting her rage burn itself out.

  She looked around suddenly, panicked. “The kids are at Shannon’s. Stephanie’s passed out. It’s just us.”

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  “Of all the arrogance.” Her silver dagger flashed into her hand as she lunged. She was tired, but still fast—nicked his arm as he leaped aside. The blade wasn’t silver. It was bone.

  He reached for his own dagger, then stopped. Father Jeffery’s words echoed: Maybe bring Jill to the next Mass.

  “That’s a bone dagger, Jill. Is that to kill monsters?”

  “I lost my knighthood. I had to look elsewhere if I was going to continue God’s work!” She swung again. Thomas weaved.

  “I had no choice, Thomas! The wolves are everywhere! The cults, the covens, the hordes of monsters! I just wanted to kill the wolves! To kill that beast you brought into our chapter!”

  She stared at him, eyes wild. A picture of Mary at the foot of the cross flashed in Thomas’s mind—again—and stayed his hand.

  “Daniel is a monster,” she breathed raggedly.

  “Only because we let him be. Daniel is a necessity. Fenrir wasn’t like him. I’ve met his friends, the people who know him. Neother was Christopher—I actually met him. But when wolves are left in the wild, that’s what they become. Daniel shoulders a burden. And you fault him because he doesn’t do it your way.”

  Thomas looked at the crucifixion scene on the wall. Slowly, he drew his silver dagger and dropped it to the floor.

  “I was there when Inanna corrupted our Order, Jill. You were right—I shouldn’t have brought the wolves in. May God forgive the blood that spilled that night. More than I can stomach to recall.” He pointed to the portrait. “Or has your devotion to Mary been so tarnished you forgot she was a mother? A mother like the one you’ve been poisoning?”

  Jill froze. The dagger gripped her hand like it gripped back.

  “It was God’s work!” she cried.

  “Which God?” Thomas asked, pointing to the cross. “Not that One’s.”

  “No! It was… it was…” Her mind raced back. The first time she helped corrupt a person—a stupid dime-store pagan. She led her to Inanna. It was God’s work to help her start her coven. Because she would use that power to avenge the brutality of that day.

  “I sent Sarah to that camp so the next time werewolves storm a place, they’d be led by one who was more then an animal—one with a conscience more like something we recognize. Her own mother wanted that for her.”

  Jill breathed hard. “Daniel is a monster.”

  “Only because we let him be,” Thomas repeated. “Tell me, Jill—what would you do with real power? Look what you’ve done with so little.”

  “I just… I’m so sorry.” Her voice warped. “Lord have mercy, I don’t know how to stop.”

  The door splintered.

  Kim stood in the doorway.

  Reflexively, Jill lifted the bone dagger. “No, please!” Thomas stepped between them.

  “What the hell is that smell?” Kim growled. “Make your case quick—Sarah’s downstairs losing her mind.”

  “Without the wards she smells everything,” Jill shrieked. “Oh God.” She turned the dagger toward her own heart. “She’ll tear me apart!”

  Thomas faced Kim. He didn’t see the blade plunge into Jill’s chest.

  In a cave not far away, Annie smiled.

  All according to plan.