Page 57 of Of Faith and Fangs

The crucifix fell from his hand, its unnatural light dying as it clattered against the stone. Silas clawed at the pole transfixing his throat, his movements growing weaker with each passing second. Blood continued to pour from the wound, filling the sanctuary with its copper scent.

What happened next would haunt me for whatever remained of my existence.

Ruth and Rebecca, driven beyond reason by the smell of fresh blood, abandoned all pretense of humanity. They moved as a blur, reaching Silas before his body had even begun to slide down the wall. Ruth reached him first, her hands still flickering with dying flames as she tore into his shoulder with teeth that had fully extended into fangs. Rebecca attacked from the other side, ripping into his abdomen.

I stood frozen, unable to look away from the feeding frenzy. These were my progeny—my responsibility—tearing a man apart like wolves on a fallen deer. Blood splattered across their faces, across the holy floor, across the altar itself. The sounds they made weren’t human—wet, desperate gulping punctuated by growls of pleasure that belonged in the darkest circle of hell.

Father O’Malley clutched my arm, his fingers digging into my cold flesh with surprising strength. “Alice,” he whispered, his voice thick with horror. “We need to go. Now.”

But I couldn’t move. Couldn’t tear my eyes from the scene before me. This was what we were. What I had made them. What the Order had made me. Monsters wearing human faces, driven by hunger so intense it obliterated all reason, all faith, all hope of redemption.

“Alice.” Desiderius’s voice, barely recognizable through his burned throat, cut through my paralysis. The ancient vampire was scorched, his skin burned by the celestial light—if that’s what it was—emitted by Silas’s crucifix. He looked less like the pristine Dutchman I’d watched from afar and more like a genuine creature born of hell itself.

But he wasn’t that. He’d helped us—probably intended to the entire time, but was affected by Silas’s talisman the same way I was. Just as I couldn’t overpower Silas, without assistance, even a vampire as old and as strong as Desiderius couldn’t.

I held up Father O’Malley, letting him use my body like a crutch. The priest winced with every step.

“Thank God they didn’t nail me to the cross,” Father O’Malley murmured.. “Small mercies.”

“It wasn’t a grace on Silas’s part,” I said, my voice hollow as I forced myself to look away from my feeding progeny. “He knew if he drew blood, things could get out of hand. I suspect if these young vampires bit you, given your grace, it would destroy them before it could harm you.”

Desiderius smiled and shook his head. “Silas told me you were a righteous girl. If that’s the case, if the blood of the pure repelled vampires, how’d you become one to begin with?”

“It seems my faith still had some growing to do.” I nodded firmly. “Or, perhaps, it was God’s will that I become what I am. I’m hardly a saint. I just killed a man.”

Father O’Malley placed a hand on my shoulder, his touch offering comfort I didn’t deserve. “You did what was necessary,” he told me. “God understands the difference between protecting those you love and murder.”

I took a deep breath. “Does He? I was raised to believe all killing is sin.”

“Then you were raised with simplistic theology,” Father O’Malley said firmly. “The God I serve—the true God, not the vengeful caricature the Order worships—understands context. Intention. Necessity. In a sinful world, love sometimes demands we do what we’d otherwise never do.”

Desiderius made a sound that might have been agreement or pain. His body was healing, I realized—slowly, far slower than it should for a vampire of his age, but the worst of his burns were closing, new pink skin forming over charred flesh.

“How did you survive?” I asked him. “The others turned to ash instantly.”

His golden eyes met mine. “Age grants certain... resistances. In addition, faith protects in ways the Order has never understood.” He looked toward the altar, where Ruth and Rebecca still fed, though their movements had slowed, their hunger finally sated. “We must get your young ones and the Father someplace safe. It’s possible Silas had reinforcements lying in wait.”

Father O’Malley nodded. “We need to get to the rectory. I have supplies there—blood for your kind, medicine for my wounds.”

“You knew this might happen,” I said, studying his face. “You’ve been preparing.”

“I’ve been serving vampires in secret for decades,” he admitted. “Offering sanctuary, communion, absolution. Desiderius was my first... unlikely parishioner.”

The ancient vampire’s ruined mouth twisted into what might have been a smile. “I sought to test the limits of my damnation. Instead, I found something unexpected—hope.”

Ruth and Rebecca had finally finished feeding. They rose from Silas’s corpse, their faces and clothes drenched in blood, their eyes unfocused with satiation. They looked like children who had gorged themselves on sweets, drunk on their excess.

“We need to go,” I told them, my voice carrying the command of their sire. “Follow us to the rectory. Stay close.”

They nodded dumbly, too blood-drunk to argue. I helped Father O’Malley toward the side door, Desiderius limping beside us. As we passed the altar, I caught sight of my reflection in a polished silver communion plate—my pale face spattered with blood, my eyes still glowing with predatory light. I looked like what I was—a monster playing at redemption.

“Second thoughts?” Father O’Malley asked quietly, seeing my hesitation.

I shook my head. “Just... wondering if this path leads where you think it does. If creatures like us can ever truly be more than what the Order made us.”

“The Order didn’t make you, Alice,” he said. “They merely changed your form. What you are—what you choose to be—that comes from within.”

I looked down at my blood-spattered hands. The same hands that had nursed the dying, that had prayed for salvation, that had turned innocent women into Nightwalkers, that had just killed a man. The same hands that now supported a priest who believed in redemption for the damned.

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