Page 58 of The Assassin and the Libertine
The priest’s eyes widened, and he looked at Étienne in confusion. Étienne grinned at him, showing a good deal of fang. The priest let out a noise somewhere between a squeak and a gulp. He bowed again.
“I’ve come here tonight to seek his help. It is a matter of grave importance and I’m afraid it is rather urgent. Would you be so kind as to direct me to him?”
The priest shook his head. “But, Madame, His Eminence is not here.”
“No, I didn’t expect he would behere.But I do expect that you’ll be able to help me find him,” I said, glaring at the quivering man.
“You do not understand. His Eminence has been retired for some time. He no longer resides in Paris—he is at his home in Soissons.” The priest swallowed and darted his eyes over to Étienne.
“Retired,” I huffed.
“Well, yes. For some time now…as I said.”
Nervously, the priest shifted and wiped a droplet of sweat from his forehead. Not looking away from Étienne, he forced a laugh.
Blocking out the rest of the priest’s stammering, I sat on a pew and sighed.So much for my stroke of genius. How will I defeat the demon Asmoday now?
Étienne sat down next to me and put his hand on my knee.
“I’m afraid we won’t be able to make it all the way to Soissons tonight. Even if we could, the chances of Charlotte and Philippe being alive by the time we returned would be slim. I fear I’ve let them down,” I said.
Étienne sighed. “It was a good idea.”
The priest stepped forward, apparently taking pity on me.
“Madame, is there anything—I mean, I am certainly not as capable as His Eminence, but I am a man of God and—is there any way that I might assist you?” He produced a rosary from his pocket and toyed with the beads.
“What is your name, Monsieur?” I asked.
“Father Clarence.”
“No, Father Clarence. I don’t suppose you can be of assistance—unless, of course, you are somehow adept at performing exorcisms and banishing demonic entities from this earthly plain,” I quipped humorlessly.
His eyes flicked to Étienne again, who growled at him.
“Not me,” he said.
“No, of course not, Monsieur,” he stuttered. “Well, what I mean to say is that I can, of course, perform an exorcism—it is one of the rites that we must all know, you see—but I would not dare to do such without the express permission and assistance of the Vatican. To do so would be dangerous and practically blasphemou—erp!”
Father Clarence’s skittish ramblings abruptly ended, and I looked up to see Étienne holding him one-handed by the frontof his robes. He lifted him easily until the priest’s feet dangled above the ground. Eyes darkening, fangs extended, Étienne hissed an oath that made Father Clarence blanch.
“Monsieur! This is a house of God!”
“Do you think he will come home before I can separate your head from your body and drain the blood from your corpse?” Étienne thundered. Father Clarence whimpered.
“Étienne, I don’t think that is necessary,” I said. He ignored me.
“What happens if you perform an exorcism without the knowledge of the Vatican?” Étienne demanded. His voice was low and threatening.
“It is not done!” Father Clarence choked out. He kicked his legs futilely. “I could lose everything—be excommunicated! It could go all wrong!”
Étienne’s eyes had blackened to solid pools of onyx. As I watched in horrified fascination, his handsome face started to morph into something monstrous—his gaping mouth expanded, showing off rows of needle-sharp teeth. His tongue snaked out, forked and flittering like a snake’s. His cheekbones and jawline sharpened, and two horns started to protrude from his forehead. When his transformation stopped, he looked just as satanic as the pictures of Asmoday. Had I not known the man he was and—admittedly—enjoyed such sensual pleasure in his arms, I would have been paralyzed by fear.
“And what do you think you will lose if you do not help us now, priest?” Étienne said, his deep voice sounding like a legion of angry demons.
Father Clarence’s white face wavered as if he were about to be sick. He whispered prayers and called upon saints I hadn’t even heard of, until finally his eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out.
As quickly as Étienne had transformed, he snapped back to his ethereally handsome self. I glared at him, hands on my hips. He winked at me.
