Hour after hour, Maria searched, growing increasingly confused. Where were the demons hurting humans? Where were the crying resources? Where was the evidence of punishment that must be happening somewhere?

  As she rounded a corner in the west wing, an area she had not yet explored, Maria noticed a sliver of light beneath a door at the end of the hallway. Unlike the soft yellow lights in the corridors, this light flickered with the orange-red glow of fmes. A firepce, perhaps.

  Voices murmured behind the door—too quiet to make out words, but clearly a conversation between two people. One voice had the deep, gentle cadence Maria recognized immediately as Father Gabriel's. The other was softer, female.

  Curiosity pulled Maria forward. Perhaps Father Gabriel would know why this demon house seemed so unlike what she had expected. Perhaps he could expin the contradictions that had filled her night of wandering.

  As she drew closer, the voices became clearer.

  "—feeling better now? The dizziness has passed?" Father Gabriel was asking.

  "Yes, Father. Much better. The tea helped," the woman replied.

  "Good. We'll keep tonight's session brief, Rebecca. I know you've been working extra shifts in the kitchen."

  Maria paused outside the door, which stood slightly ajar. The crack was just wide enough for her to peer through without pushing it further open. Her heart hammered with the fear of discovery, but the need to understand drove her forward.

  The room beyond was clearly a study, warm and comfortable with a fire burning low in a stone firepce. Bookshelves lined the walls, and a rge desk stood to one side, covered in papers and leather-bound volumes. Father Gabriel sat in a high-backed chair near the fire, dressed in his usual dark clothing with the white colr she had come to associate with his position.

  A woman—Rebecca, she had heard him call her—sat in a chair facing him. Maria recognized her as one of the kitchen staff, a pleasant woman who had once shown her how to find extra bread when she was hungry between meals. Rebecca looked calm, even content, smiling at Father Gabriel with affection rather than fear.

  "I'm ready whenever you are, Father," Rebecca said, rolling up the sleeve of her right arm.

  Maria's breath caught. Was Father Gabriel a healer as well as a priest? Was he going to treat some injury on the woman's arm?

  Father Gabriel leaned forward, taking Rebecca's arm gently in his hands. "Thank you, as always, for your generosity, Rebecca. Your family's well-being remains my priority."

  "I know, Father. My son wouldn't have survived st winter without your help. This small service is nothing in comparison."

  Father Gabriel bowed his head slightly in acknowledgment. Then, to Maria's horror, he lifted Rebecca's wrist to his mouth and bit.

  The world seemed to stop. Maria's vision narrowed to that single point of contact—Father Gabriel's mouth on Rebecca's wrist, the slight flinch that passed across the woman's face before rexing into what appeared to be peaceful acceptance.

  He was feeding. Drinking blood. Father Gabriel—her teacher, her guide, the man who had shown her kindness and respect—was a demon. A vampire.

  Maria's hand flew to her mouth to stifle a cry of shock. The wooden cross burned against her chest as her mind struggled to process what she was seeing. The gentle priest who had discussed the Light with her, who had ensured her comfort during her curse, who had listened to her prayers and questions—he was one of the very demons she had warned the workers about.

  The feeding sted less than a minute. Father Gabriel lifted his head, pressed a clean cloth to Rebecca's wrist, and held it there with obvious care.

  "Thank you," he said simply.

  "Of course, Father," Rebecca replied, her voice steady and clear, showing no signs of fear or pain. "Will that be all for tonight?"

  "Yes. Please take tomorrow morning to rest. Tell Morris you have my permission."

  Rebecca smiled. "That's not necessary. I feel perfectly fine."

  "Nevertheless, I insist. Your health matters more than kitchen schedules."

  The conversation was so ordinary, so concerned with Rebecca's welfare, that it made the horror of what Maria had just witnessed even more jarring. This wasn't the savage feeding she had been taught to expect from demons. This was... something else entirely.

  Before she could process further, Maria's foot shifted, causing the old floorboard beneath her to creak. Both heads turned immediately toward the door.

  "Who's there?" Father Gabriel called, his voice firm but not angry.

  Maria's instinct was to flee, but some deeper impulse drove her forward instead. She pushed the door open, wooden cross held before her like a shield.

  "Demon!" she cried, her voice cracking with emotion. "Leave her alone!"

  Father Gabriel's expression shifted from alert concern to profound shock. Rebecca looked equally startled, gncing between Maria and Father Gabriel in confusion.

  "Maria," Father Gabriel said gently, rising from his chair. "Please, calm yourself. This isn't what you think."

  "I saw you!" Maria's voice rose with hysteria. "I saw you drinking her blood! You're one of them—a demon from hell!"

  Rebecca stood now as well, adjusting her sleeve over the small bandage Father Gabriel had applied. "Miss Maria, please, there's no need for arm. Father Gabriel wasn't hurting me. I volunteer to—"

  "He's tricked you!" Maria cried, rushing forward to grab Rebecca's arm. "Come with me! I'll help you escape before he takes more blood!"

  Rebecca pulled back, genuine bewilderment on her face. "Escape? Miss Maria, I'm not a prisoner. I work here by choice. And I provide blood for the Viscount voluntarily, as do many of the staff."

  Maria froze, her hand still extended toward Rebecca. "The... Viscount?"

  Father Gabriel stepped forward cautiously, his expression a complex mixture of concern and dawning understanding. "Maria," he said quietly, "did you not realize that I am Viscount Gabriel? That I am both priest and vampire?"

  The world tilted beneath Maria's feet. Father Gabriel was the Viscount. The priest who had discussed the Light with her for hours, who had seemed to understand and respect her faith, was the very demon lord of this estate. The one she had been seeking evidence against throughout her night of exploration.

  "No," she whispered, backing away. "No, that can't be true. A demon can't be a priest. A demon can't speak of the Light."

  "I was a priest before I was turned," Gabriel expined, his voice gentle but urgent. "Being made vampire did not erase my faith or my calling. I am both, Maria. I always have been, since you arrived."

  Rebecca moved toward Maria, genuine concern on her face. "Miss Maria, please sit down. You look pale. Let me get you some water."

  But Maria couldn't bear their kindness now—not when everything she believed had been shattered in a single moment. She backed away toward the door, the wooden cross still extended before her.

  "Stay away from me," she whispered. "Demon. Liar."

  And then she turned and ran, tears blinding her as she fled through corridors that now seemed filled with hidden meaning and terrible truths. She ran until she reached her room, smming the door behind her and dragging a chair to wedge beneath the handle.

  Sinking to the floor beside her bed, Maria clutched her wooden cross to her chest and began to rock back and forth, eyes squeezed shut against the terrible knowledge that burned within her.

  Father Gabriel was the Viscount. The priest was a vampire. The man who had shown her kindness was a demon who drank human blood.

  And nothing in her Church of Eternal Light had prepared her for this impossible contradiction.