During her novitiate, of course, there had been a lot of talk about feeling an all-consuming love for God: supposedly, it was necessary for the consecrated life. They even called it becoming a “Bride of Christ.” Madeleine had never felt that passion with the fervor of some of her fellow novices, but she’d figured it manifested in her actions rather than her emotions, and that over time she’d come to feel it more. She’d been drawn to the convent life, and that had seemed like the same thing: a calling.

She’d assumed most other nuns were the same. Sister Catherine, for example, was relentlessly practical in all things. Not the kind of person to swoon with love for anyone, especially at her age.

Or so Madeleine had thought. Until right now.

“Catherine, you always hit the nail on the head. Of course it’s about that,” Mother Gertrude said, deepening the cold pit in Madeleine’s stomach. She rose to her feet; Madeleine and Catherine followed suit, though Madeleine could have wished for steadier knees. “Sister Madeleine, spend tonight in seclusion. Consider the matter more deeply. My presence will be announced at breakfast tomorrow, the better to allow you solitude without people putting two and two together. I’ll lie low until then and will speak with you in the chapel at first light.”

Madeleine’s answer would be expected then. “Yes, Reverend Mother.”

“Thank you, Sister. You’re dismissed.”

Madeleine dipped her head and left the office in silence. As she closed the door behind her, she heard Catherine’s and Gertrude’s voices murmuring again. It was quite the effort not to commit the sin of eavesdropping.

Maybe, if she eavesdropped, she’d overhear them saying something that would reassure her and chase away the cold in the pit of her stomach. The one that said: You cannot do this. You cannot possibly do this.

You don’t love him enough for that.

She hugged herself as she walked. Nobody was watching, thank goodness. Nobody would see Sister Madeleine, pillar of her community, sensible and respected, wondering if the last fifteen years of her life had been a horrible mistake. Reflection. She needed prayer and reflection.

There was just one problem with reflection.

Sometimes you saw what you didn’t want to see looking right back at you.

CHAPTER SIX

“Have you got to spit all over the place?”

“I can’t help it.” Hæra turned away from Jonathan’s kitchen sink with a grimace. “All this time, and fresh water still tastes disgusting.”

“Then why do you keep trying to drink it? Run the tap, if you please.”

Hæra turned on the creaky tap to rinse the sink. “Because drinking water is the most basic human function after breathing air, and I can do the first. Why not the second?”

“You’re not human, though, are you?”