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In her experience, in warm life and all the years since, priests like Merrin were rare as hen&039;s teeth She had no quarrel with Jesus of Galilee, but a great villain - Saint Peter the Denier, or the Emperor Constantine - had twisted His ministry A faith for children and slaves had become a worldly nation, as rich and rotten as any other

God e for man, but churches seemed the worst possible places to receive it Twice, she&039;d been put to the Question by the Inquisition The faces of holy men were taut with lust as they worked pincers over her body Worse still were those who truly believed they killed and stole in the name of love divine She&039;d also been pursued by Puritan witchfinders in New England and stoned by the e in a Tibetan laue and spiritual canker

Father Merrin was better than that She&039;d kno truly good men The priest was not weak, not biddable; in the days when she was fleeing the Church, she&039;d not have chosen to fight with hiood had not flown froard

For the first time in centuries, Genevieve Sandrine de l&039;Isle Dieudonne felt a need schooled into her as a child

She iined God was in the room, with Merrin&039;s face

&039;Father, will you hear my confession?&039;

The priest consented and set down his cup They were both aard Should they kneel? She sank to her knees on the bare floorboards Merrin found a cushion and knelt by her

&039;Pere, pardonnez ue Her accent would be unrecognisable in ht,&039; Merrin said &039;I understand&039;

&039;Father, forgive me, for I have sinned&039;

With the words, her heart opened and everything flooded out

After Merrin left, she felt different She&039;d told hi knew, but had talked mostly about Charles And Dracula She&039;d told their story, honestly She&039;d told him the true identity of Jack the Ripper She&039;d admitted her love, and her failure She had cried And in talking to a priest, she had prayed

She was not reconciled with the Church, not yet convinced that there was a supernatural She was influenced by the cold insights of Dr Pretorius and the isdoe the habit of many lifetimes

It was just that now, this very an was stilled into be pierced In her, the pus came with it

Charles ith her still, inside His voice whispered His taste tingled She had not lost the sense of hi any more

She looked up, reverie broken She had another visitor He stood in the doorway in a black tuxedo withlike a finger, sun into its holster

&039;Come with me, Gene,&039; he said &039;There&039;s a last monster to be faced&039;

His confidence was irresistible For hiony was frivolous He had a job to do and it was do or die He could never really be hurt It was dangerous to be close to so better to do

&039;I can find him,&039; he said &039;The Crimson Executioner&039;

She stood up and ith him