“Or I’m not a demon,” I called after him. I turned to glance around at the other officers. “The chief’s right about demons being unable to feel affection, so if I’m a demon, why would I voluntarily walk into the courthouse? It couldn’t be to help my nonexistent friends escape, and it couldn’t be to save a sister I can’t possibly care about from purification by holy flames. So why am I here? Unless maybe I’m actually human, and the Church has been lying to you all along, about more than you can possibly imagine, and you all burned an innocent boy alive this afternoon!” My voice rose with each word until I was practically shouting, and fresh tears filled my eyes with the memory of Adam’s merciless, senseless death.

“More demon theatrics. Actors, every one of them. Bring her this way,” the chief called, without looking back. “And if she doesn’t shut up on her own, shut her up.”

A second officer took my other arm, and as I was dragged down the hall after the chief, I glanced around at the men aiming guns at me and was relieved to see that not one of the cops—other than the chief—wore embroidered robes. Anathema’s distraction had done exactly what I’d hoped.

The courthouse was vastly understaffed, and almost all the Church members surrounding me were unconsecrated.

As I was hauled through an unmarked open doorway, blinking away my tears, I glanced down the hall toward the front of the courthouse, hoping for one more glance at Finn, but “Officer Jennings” was nowhere to be found.

***

The small interrogation room was cold and relentlessly bright, and I could see nothing but the white walls ahead and to my sides, and the white ceiling above me. A door opened at my back, then clicked shut, and the hiss of the heater vents from the hall gave way to stern silence. Footsteps came toward me from behind—two sets. One clicked like heels, and the other clomped like boots, but my ankles had been shackled, then secured to the floor beneath my chair, so I couldn’t turn far enough to look.

“Nina Kane.” The voice was familiar, but I couldn’t place it until the owner stepped into sight on my right and pulled out the chair across the table, tugging down on one green-embroidered sleeve of her gray cassock.