“Look there,” Zeke murmured.

In the center of the circle could only be the Order of Azrael. A single rider in white like all the others, but on his mask, tears red as fresh blood streaked porcelain cheeks. He held a flaming sword in one hand, the fire jumping and sparking like a living thing. Gleaming from its hilt was a chunk of golden divinity stone.

“That’s no normal fire,” Celeste said.

“Heavenly fire,” Hypatia confirmed. “Powered by divinity. It can render a man to ash in seconds.”

“A woman, too.” She was thinking of Mariel.

A shrieking wail broke the silence, keen enough to shatter glass. Celeste recognized that voice, even in pain.

“Mariel!” She took a step forward, but Hypatia held her arm.

“Wait and see.” Her voice was low with warning, and Celeste remembered Hypatia had tussled with the Virtues once before and had the thick, slicing scars down her back to prove it. Celeste looked again at that sword, and for a moment, she could almost feel the heat of it against her skin. Her eyes met the ones hidden behind the Azrael’s mask, and she found herself looking away.

Sheriff Ybarra came out of the Eden, and the crowd parted for him. He wore a black dinner jacket and matching waistcoat with a white collared shirt, evidence he’d come from the mayor’s affair. Ybarra was a regular fixture in town, a big-shouldered man fit for rounding up drunkards and settling disputes. He was nothing like the uncanny horrors of the Virtues. Celeste felt a touch of relief to see him, but his head was bowed, face hidden beneath his hat. The tin star pinned to his breast gleamed in the light of the Azrael’s fiery sword.

“He won’t look at the crowd with the Virtues around,” Zeke observed, and any hope Celeste had of him fixing things sank like lead in her belly.

Mariel followed, half-collapsed between two Virtues, her bright red skirts dragging through the street. Her black curls had come undone and hung down her back, and something dark and sticky clung to her arms and hands.

Celeste moved before she could think, instinct calling her to her sister’s side.

Zeke’s arms clamped around her waist, pulling her back. “Steady.”

“They mean to execute her!” she hissed. All she could think about was that flaming sword and heavenly fire at Mariel’s neck.

“No, not in front of this crowd. Can’t you feel it?”

He was right. The crowd was restless, muttering, unhappy that their hellish revelry had been ruined by this posse of God’s men.

“What’s she done?” someone shouted, and then the crowd picked it up.

“What’s her crime, Sheriff?”

“Why the Virtues?”

“Leave her alone!”