Sinners and Saints

Sinners and Saints Chapter 28 - She Works Hard for the Money

He pulls me into his office, tail still wrapped around my neck.  The door shuts and he cinches tighter. 

“One,” he growls, raising me a foot off the floor and slamming my back against the wall, “If you ever hijack my staff or my resources without my permission, bad-mouth me to any of my employees or show me the slightest disrespect again, you will find out exactly what the term ‘living hell’ is all about.” 

I’m trying to pull his tail away from my windpipe because I can already see spots forming in front of my eyes, but he’s not budging.  I try using my power to get him off of me, but apparently that requires oxygen – another detail the boys failed to mention in their training.  I’m starting to wonder about that whole “trained by the best” thing. 

“I may not be able to kill you, Redeemer,” Darius continues, “But I can do things like chain you to the bottom of the ocean for a thousand years or so.  Do I make myself clear?” 

“Crystal,” I squeak out with the last remaining air in my lungs.  “Goodbye, air,” my fogging brain laments, “I’ll miss you.” 

“And two,” he suddenly drops me and strides behind his desk.  Coughing, I climb to my hands and knees and take painful gulps through my bruised trachea, “I don’t have to explain my actions to you or anyone else.  I don’t give a shit about your love life or your happiness, so you can save your – breath,” he grins at his own joke, “If you’ve come to boo-hoo about how betrayed you feel.  It was taking half of my staff to follow him around and keep him from getting killed, so I eliminated the problem.  End of story.” 

I wasn’t, actually.  Even I’m not stupid enough to think that Darius would give a crap about my hurt feelings.  “Why Jill?” I wheeze out like a three-pack-a-day smoker, “Why not a bi?” 

“Means and opportunity,” Darius smirks as he sits down. 

I cough again and pull myself up to my feet.  I really think he did it just to get back at me for forgiving Jamie in the first place, but I’m not going to tell him that. 

In fact, I think as I put my hand over my very-sore throat, that vow of silence the Rescuer Nun is on is sounding like a darn good idea. 

I toss a folded piece of paper on his desk. 

“What’s that?” he asks. 

I try to answer, but only a creaky rasp of air comes out.  Darius rolls his eyes at me like it was my idea to get choked and tosses me a bottle of water from the mini-fridge behind him. 

“That’s where the killer is,” I tell him in a voice barely above a whisper, “Along with the locations of all of the victims the police haven’t found yet.” 

“Have you told the cops about this?” he asks me, scanning the page. 

“No – I figured you’d want first crack at the guy,” I say after another glug of water. 

“Well at least you got one thing right,” he snarks and folds the page up. 

“If you take Father Jonas with you he’ll write out a full confession,” I tell him, “But even if you don’t, there’s plenty of evidence for the police to make an airtight case.  And I made sure I didn’t leave any evidence of my being there,” I add, showing him my still-gloved hands. 

“Who said I’m going to let the police know?” Darius asks. 

“Darius,” I stare at him, “There are other victims.  Human victims.  And their families have a right to closure.” 

“I’ll consider it,” he tells me, “How’s Jill?” 

“Darius,” 

“I said I would consider it,” he snaps at me, “How is she?”