Oh, how his voice ached. But Mariel—she had to think of Mariel. If she did not give Lilitha to the Virtues, then Mariel would die. She hardened her heart, even though it cost her everything. Perhaps even her soul.

“God is cruel, Abraxas. You know that better than most.”

She felt his gaze upon her back, but she could not turn to face him, could not let him see the tears that filled her eyes, the look of her own doubt upon her face.

“Deus crudelis,” he whispered. “Homo crudelior.”

She turned, a cry of anguish upon her lips.

But he was already gone.

CHAPTER 15

Sheriff Ybarra came a few hours after dawn with two Virtues to take Lilitha away.

An hour after Abraxas had left, Celeste had heard a loud thump at the door. She had opened it to find the girl bound, gagged, and insensate, sagging against the wall. Abraxas was nowhere to be seen. She had dragged her inside and then gone down to the town to find the sheriff. She’d told him the story she had concocted, and he’d said he would rouse the Virtues necessary and meet her at the cabin.

She had sat in a chair, the same chair Abraxas had sat in to read his book as he waited for her to wake up. She tried not to think about him, about what they had done in that bed only hours ago and what she had said afterward to destroy it all. She would not let emotions sway her. She knew her purpose and what had to be done.

“You said she confessed it all?” Ybarra asked as they loaded Lilitha into a wagon.

“Do you know what a gloria is, Sheriff?” Celeste asked.

His brow furrowed in confusion. “I’m afraid not.”

The Virtue who had come to aid in Lilitha’s arrest, an Order of Michael, slammed the wagon door shut. Ybarra jumped, but Celeste only smiled.

“I imagine a gloria has something to do with the Virtues,” Ybarra said, “but beyond that, I cannot say.” He sounded uneasy. “I am not sure that I want to know.”

“Would that I could have stayed ignorant of such a thing myself,” she admitted, “although I see the usefulness of its purpose now. Trust that it will reveal the truth.”

He nodded, more in sympathy than in agreement, and took to his mount. The Virtue driving the wagon spurred the pulling horse forward, and the wagon surged ahead on rattling wheels. Ybarra paused. “Would you like a ride back to town?”

“No, I’d rather walk.”

He looked doubtful.

“I need to make a stop before I come to court.”

“Have it your way.” He tipped his hat and turned his mare, and then he and the wagon retreated down the path back to town.