“That is sin, then, child. Light another candle.”
“There’s more, though. Plenty more. Um, if the prosecution was right, well, it wasn’t just homosexual sex, but rape, and necrophilia, and who knows what worse things?”
The priest’s voice was trembling. “For these acts, too
– light a candle for each of these.”
“Already my mind is a wildfire, Father. Already the light is blinding and the heat endless.”
“Let the furnace of atrocity burn away all that is evil in you, child. Let the fires cleanse you of the will to do wrong.”
“I have borne false witness. I have stolen. I cannot remember most of what I have done or been, but can imagine it, and am certain I have committed every sin that existed before me, and some new ones, too.”
Gentle laughter came in answer. “There are no new sins, nothing new under the sun. But for each sin light another candle.”
“They stretch on infinitely, these candles. They burn like the sun.”
“Good. Forevermore see that fire in your eyes, feel it in your heart, meditate upon it in your mind, and let it cleanse your soul. Know that what fires you lave upon yourself now, you will be spared in Hell.”
“I will bathe in fire. I will burn now and forever in hellfire. I will bathe in it.”
“Do you know the Pater Noster, and the Hail Mary?”
“Yes – Our Father, who art in Heaven-”
“Good. Pray the Pater Noster three hundred times. Pray the Hail Mary seven hundred times. Let nothing distract you from your prayers. Let no sound beyond this booth disturb your communion with God. Remain here until I come back for you. Pray. I will return, and bring with me the instruments by which your humanity and salvation will be complete.”
“Go, Father. I will remain and pray.”
Samael began again his recitation, struggling not to hear the shift of the priest’s clothing against the velvet seat cushion or the furtive sound of his old hand upon the brass knob. There came a flash of profane light on the far side of the screen as the booth opened, and the priest’s fearful shadow flitted for a moment against the far wall.
Samael prayed onward. “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven-”
Tears were coming. This height of trembling joy matched the depths of terrified despair he had felt when he dragged the rose thorns through his veins. How strange that he remembered no such powerful passions – that his emotions had been so disguised even from himself. Now, not only had he known the aching end of life, but also the irresistible urging of flesh to go on living, no matter the cost.
He heard the quick click of high heels retreating across stone, and the low drone of the door closing behind someone.
– Give us this day our daily-”
There came another profound boom as the door closed again, behind someone else.
“-will return, and bring with me the instruments by which your humanity and salvation will be complete-”
“-and forgive us our sins-” Azra continued, though he stood and peered out the slatted window at the top of the door.
The priest, thin and wiry like some manic cartoon creature, glanced back toward the booth before rounding a marble pillar and disappearing into the transept.
“-as we forgive those-” Samael’s hand clicked open the brass knob of the confessional and he strode out into the sanctuary, his face grave, “-who sin against us.”
His metal-edged wingtips clicked on the smooth, cold floor. He unsnapped the gun at his belt, drew it forth, and cocked it
A door ahead of him boomed closed, and a dead-bolt lock snicked into place.
Samael broke into a run across the sanctuary. The soles of his feet slid on the stone. His eyes were wide and bright, his nostrils flared.
“-lead us not into temptation-”
One more stride, and he lifted his foot and kicked the door. Hardwood splintered, and a brass deadbolt ripped free as the door swung inward. Beyond lay a tight office, book-lined, with a desk at its center, two vinyl chairs in front of the desk, and a recoiling priest with a phone at his ear.
The crack of the gun echoed through the sanctuary and sent up a puff of smoke like incense. The priest bounced backward against a bookshelf and tumbled, face-first, to the floor. On the belly of his black shirt, there was a darker spot of black. The phone dangled freely, someone shouting, small and inconsequential, from it.
“-and deliver us from the Evil One-”
Samael strode into the room, kicked one of the vinyl chairs aside, stooped over the priest, and drew the phone up by its cord. He listened.
“Where are you? Sir? What’s happening now? Don’t hang up.”
Samael blinked, his mouth grim. “For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever and ever. Amen.”
He lowered the receiver to the phone. He rolled the priest over. The man was alive.
The priest cringed back, terror in his eyes. His hands were red as he lifted them from his belly wound and held them beseechingly before him. “No, Samael. Don’t do it. You must turn yourself in. You must get help.”
Eyes hard beneath black brows, Samael reached down to the man’s shirt, grabbed hold of him, and hoisted him upward. “Where is your car?”
“I don’t have a car.”
He shook the man as if he were a doll. “Where?”
“Outside – a blue minivan with paneled sides.”
“The keys?”
“In my pants pocket.”
Samael reached in and grabbed the prickly mass of metal.
The priest yammered, “You can’t miss it. It’s right in front.”
“You’re coming along.”
And Jesus stood before the governor: and the governor asked him, saying, Art thou the king of the Jews? And Jesus said unto him, Thou sayest.
And when he was accused by the chief priests and elders, he answered nothing.
Then said Pilate unto him, Hearest thou not how many things they witness against thee? And he answered him to never a word; insomuch that the governor marveled greatly.
Now at that feast the governor was wont to release unto the people a prisoner, whom they would choose. And they had then a notable prisoner, called Barabbas. Therefore when they were gathered together, Pilate said unto them, Whom will ye that I release unto you?
Barabbas, or Jesus which is called Christ. For he knew that for envy they had delivered him. When he was set down on the judgment seat, his wife sent unto him, saying, Have thou nothing to do with that just man: for I have suffered many things this day in a dream because of him.
But the chief priests and elders persuaded the multitude that they should ask for Barabbas, and destroy Jesus.
The governor answered and said unto them, Whether of the twain will ye that I release unto you?
They said Barabbas.
Pilate saith unto them, What shall I do then with Jesus which is called Christ? They all say unto him, Let him be crucified.
And the governor said, Why, what evil hath he done?
But they cried out the more, saying, Let him be crucified. When Pilate saw that he could prevail nothing, but that rather a tumult was made, he took water, and washed his hands before the multitude, saying, I am innocent of the blood of this just person: see ye to it. Then answered all the people, and said, His blood be on us, and on our children.
Then released he Barabbas unto them: and when he had scourged Jesus, he delivered him to be crucified.
“Hello, Officer,” said the young woman behind the counter.
Samael glanced at her in momentary confusion before remembering he wore a uniform. “Hello.”
The woman smiled back thinly. She had long, lank hair and a silver tooth on the top left of her smile. She looked too thin, her skin too pale. “Haven’t seen you in here before. You new on the force?”
Samael strolled among the aisles of bagged snacks and candy bars. “Yes. I’m new.”
“Well, I don’t know if the guys told you, but coffee is free to patrolmen, and there’s ten percent off snacks.”