If it hadn’t exorcised the demons, then…“How…? Why…?”

Finn pulled the detached lid from the can of stew, then gestured at me with it. “I like you. You ask all the right questions.”

“So, what are the answers? If the exorcists are fakes, and the Church can’t fight demons any better than anyone else, why are they in charge?”

“Great question.” He tilted the open can over the empty pot on the right burner, and thick beef vegetable stew poured out in chunky globs. “And if I had the answer, I’d give it to you.”

“Okay. But…the Church used to have real exorcists, right? Otherwise, how would we ever have won the war?”

“Exorcists aren’t born every day, but I think it’s reasonable to assume the Church had a few at one point.”

“Like Katherine Abbot, right? The naturalist?”

“Naturalist.” Finn shook his head and tossed the empty can into a plastic trash bin against the wall, where it landed with the clatter of can against can.

“You’re saying she wasn’t a naturalist?”

“I’m saying there are no naturalists.” He twisted a knob on the front of the tiny, shin-high stove, then lit a match and stuck it through the burner. Fire flared in a ring beneath the pot, and he adjusted the height of the flames by turning the knob again. “Or, more accurately, there are only naturalists. You can’t be trained to drive a demon from a stolen body by scorching its life force with the power of your own.”

Was that really what I’d done? How was that even possible?

“You have to be born with that ability.” His gaze met mine across the indoor campsite, and flames from the stove made shadows dance on his face. “And you were born with that ability, Nina.”

I shifted nervously on my pillow. “Why would the Church have a bunch of fake exorcists? What happened to the real ones?”

Finn shrugged, digging in the utensil box again. “You’re as qualified to answer that one as I am. You’re an exorcist. Why aren’t you down at the worship center right now, in line to get your cheek branded?”

“Because the only Church officials who know I’m an exorcist just aimed guns at my head!”

He finally pulled a plastic spoon from the box and used it to stir the stew. “Yeah, they tend to do that.”

“Doesn’t the Church need us if they don’t have any real exorcists?”

“Who knows what the Church thinks it needs?” He met my gaze over the camping lantern. “Humanity needs us. I know that much. Demons hunt us. The Church will take us. I know that for a fact. They took Carey James. I don’t know what they did with him, but I know they took him alive.”

“Who’s Carey? An exorcist? Your friend?”

“He is an exorcist, yes. Just like you.”

Like me? Why not like us?

“But I never met him,” Finn continued, stirring the stew again, and my stomach started to growl. I hadn’t eaten since lunch at school. That felt like ages ago. “I know his sister, though. Her name’s Grayson. You’ll like her. Everyone likes her.”