The Prayer I Never Said

“Are you there, God? It’s me...”

I sighed, feeling uneasy because what the fuck was I doing? The stained glass windows were crafted into scenes from the bible. It was eerie to say the least.

So, I tried again.

“Are you there, God? It’s me… Evangelos.”

My name was the bane of my existence. I was told it meant “good messenger,” and my Southern Baptist black family thought it was fitting. I almost died at birth, so the fact that I survived was apparently why my name was given. It made me feel like I should try to join an Italian mafia, but yeah. No way they’d accept a barely twenty-something Black man from the South.

“Okay,” I whispered to myself. I needed to get my head back in the game. There was a reason I was here.

My eyes wandered up toward the cathedral ceiling. I began to anticipate it splitting open and the most holy of holies appearing to answer me. The paintings of angels on the roof seemed to mock me for thinking something like that would happen. Or that I'd be able to confess my sins.

“Look. I know. This has been a long time coming. And everyone says I should chat with you more. I just don’t know what to say.”

The incense, pine, and lavender wafted through the air. I don’t remember what a church should smell like, but this was different. It was uncomfortably warm in here, though. Sweat slid down my temple as I began to take note of the other congregants through the haze of smoke lingering.

Of course, there was someone old enough to be a grandmother. Her head bowed, cross in hand, deep in prayer. My eyes shifted to a priest speaking with someone in a low whisper. It looked serious, but I couldn’t hear a word.

Another priest stood on the altar, his hands raised in silent prayer. He seemed to be an anomaly.

His hands and bald head were visible, but paler than you would expect. He was dressed in smooth and elegant silk robes. I recognized a four-pointed star on the back, stitched in silver.

A thumping sound filled my ears.

There was a reason I was here. Not the one the praying grandmothers might guess.

Just as the pieces began to fall into place for me, the doors opened. Whipping around, I looked at the new entrants.

“Fuck,” I muttered.

These new additions resembled the priest by the altar, with hoods covering their faces. Waiting with bated breath, I watched as they passed. Their strides were slow and measured, hands hidden by the long sleeves of their robes.

I had to get out of here. I found what I needed.

Standing, I shimmied out of the aisle. Taking a deep breath, I turned toward the exit.

I hadn’t even noticed the others behind me, just ordinary churchgoers, or so they seemed.

As I headed towards the church's ornate wood-carved doors, murmurs of prayer began to rise in tone.

“Maybe next time, big guy,” I mumbled.

“Excuse me,” a raspy voice called. I halted, frozen in place.

Turning, my gaze met the clouded grey eyes of a priest. Or a deacon. I wasn’t too sure, and I didn’t want to find out. He had gotten within arm’s length of me.

I must have missed him moving towards the back of the cathedral.

“Yes, sir?” was all I could get out in a trembled tone. My throat bobbed as I gulped down a breath.

The priest’s smile was genuine, lighting up his wrinkled face. “I hope your time here in St. Germain Catholic Cathedral has been fruitful,” he remarked. “We hope to see you again soon.”

Nodding, I smirked, placing my shaking hands into my pockets. “I look forward to returning soon.”

He couldn’t tell I was lying. Right? I found my voice that time, sneaking a hint of bravado that existed somewhere in my bones.

“Do you hold night services by chance?” I pondered.

The change in his features had me worrying that my inquiry was a dead giveaway as to who I was. But his bright smile returned a moment later, clouded eyes still on me.

“Why, yes,” he revealed. “Starting at seven in the evening. We invite you to join us again.”

“I may take you up on that. Thank you,” I smiled, feigning my trepidation at such an invitation.

The older man nodded, rotating in his spot. He then took his time, striding up to the altar, where the other members of the church were congregated. I wasted no time in turning and doing the same. Because for all they did to hide what was going on in that church, I knew.

Beautiful stained glass, but all lit by candlelight. No sunlight. The pale priest and those hooded figures, yeah, every red flag waving at once.

They were vampires.

The older man who spoke to me before was either working with them or naive to what was in his church. The latter, considering they had been invited in at some point.

Sunlight hit my face; the heat outside was only rivaled by the heat in the church. My heart pounded as I headed toward the parked van around the corner. The side door slid open, and Thana smirked at me as I arrived.

“What'd you find out?” She asked as I stepped in. I took a seat, the air conditioning feeling like a heavenly breath on my skin. “Well?” She now asked impatiently.

“Please, for the love of God, let me relax for a moment. It's hot as Satan's ass outside. I also witnessed five, maybe six vampires operating in this cathedral.” I didn't mean to sound short with her.

Thana was a good member of the team. Smart, athletic, a master with bows and arrows, and roughly a year older than me. She also tended to be a wildcard.

“Well, kid,” a gruff voice announced from the front seat. “Looks like we got our mark. D’you see Aelina?”

I shook my head. Doc nodded, his face falling for a heartbeat. In the rearview mirror, his weathered, tanned skin and graying hair made the pain in his hazel eyes even sharper. His daughter was kidnapped, and we had to rescue her.

“Aelina is smart. She knew what clues to leave,” I reassured Doc. Out of the three of us, He’d been with the Association, unofficially dubbed ‘The Order of the Blade’, since before most of us were born.

“Well,” Doc started with a sigh. “Let's go get those bastards.”

We geared up, armed to the teeth with silver weapons.

Thana slung a quiver over her shoulder, full of arrows, then sheathed a dagger on each thigh before checking her bowstring.

Doc loaded his shotgun and assault rifle, bandoliers of ammo strapped across his chest.

I holstered my pistols at my hips and checked my sword before sheathing it across my back.

“We don't know how many are in there,” Doc gruffed. “Could go sideways, and fast.”

“Can we not look so cliché when we get out? We are not characters in a movie,” Thana chided. I could only laugh.

“It's what makes us bad ass. The slow-mo exit from the van. We have to!” I answered.

No. We didn't exit the van like in a movie. Doc said something about being professional, but we exited like normal people. I'd argue with them about that later. For now, we had work to do.

Walking up the steps of the church, it seemed quieter. This was a busy street. No cars or people had passed, except us.

Doc pushed open the doors, the sunlight shining on us as we entered. The pews stood empty in the candlelight, but on the altar… something was wrong. The robed figures I'd spotted before were in a circle, chanting something in Latin.

Thana knocked an arrow and released it, striking a priest at the front of the circle. The silver arrow embedded in their shoulder.

“Dammit, Thana,” I scowled. We split up, Thana staying in the middle, Doc taking the left, and me taking the right.

“Hey!” Thana bit back. “They stopped what they were doing.”

Doc and I rained bullets on the vampires, while Thana fired arrows. The vampires were falling fast. Shots to the heart and head with silver projectiles making short work. Something felt off.

The air shifted, growing colder.

Silence fell over the ample space.

My heart thundered.

“The altar,” Thana called, followed by a curse.

The altar was sliding open. The candles lit across the church flickered for a beat. An opulent pedestal lifted from underground. There was Aelina, bound, gagged, and unconscious. And next to her was…

“Mary?” Doc whispered. I looked over to see his eyes looking wet with tears.

“Who's that?” I asked. Thana put her hand up.

“Doc. If that is her, she's one of them now.”

Doc's head shook. His gun lowered.

“I thought…”

“You thought what, Doc?” The female cut him off. Her voice bellowed, rattling my chest. “You thought I died? Well, you weren't wrong. You and the association left me to die on that day six years ago. But then the Crimson Queen gave me life. Gave me an opportunity. And now our daughter will serve a greater purpose.”

Doc's features twisted as he walked forward.

“Don't you dare!” He said, spitting out the words. “She had nothing to do with what happened. And whatever it is you want revenge for, I'm the one who needs to pay.” Doc's voice fell quieter, his face falling. That same face from earlier.

But this time, he didn't hide it.

“I should have grabbed you, darlin’. I should have taken you home and buried you properly. But I was a coward then.” He looked at Thana, then me, dropping his rifle.

“Doc!” Thana and I yelled in a panic.

“The fuck are you doing, old man?” I gritted out, pistols aimed at Mary. Thana had a bow aimed, watching intently.

His hands raised, moving closer to the pedestal. Doc inched his way toward his wife and daughter.

This wasn’t happening. I knew Doc’s daughter. Aelina was about Thana's and my age and was a new recruit with the association. As much as Doc wanted his daughter to live a normal life, she never wanted that. She wanted to be like Doc and to find the vampires responsible for her mother’s death.

Seeing Aelina like that, gagged and unconscious, twisted my gut. This wasn’t just about Doc anymore.

“You think showing weakness and pain will bring me back, Doc?” Mary mused. She didn’t look a day over twenty-five, with wine-red hair, pale skin, and crimson eyes fixed on her husband. “Our daughter is the key. You had it right under your nose the entire time. Now she will unleash the undead army, and your pathetic, cowardly life will be no more!”

“Fuck this,” I snarled, firing a shot at Mary, clipping her shoulder. The skin burned, unhealing. She turned toward me, hissing as her canines elongated, her mouth wide.

“No!” shouted Doc. “Stop!”

Thana released a silvered arrow, hitting Mary in the thigh. A keening cry left the vampire. She fell to a knee, watching us move in.

Doc stood in front of her, hands up towards Thana and me.

“I appreciate what you kids are trying to do, but this is my fight. Now stop!” he cautioned.

“Doc,” Thana scoffed. “You can’t be serious. She wants to kill your daughter and awaken undead armies? That’s the shit we fight against!”

Mary began cackling from behind her husband. We all froze, the unsettling sound washing over us.

“Fight against? The Order thought they could fight against this,” she began. “The Order knew a child born on an eclipse would be the key. One to fulfill the prophecy they fought so hard to stop.” Mary paused, looking at her daughter. “I remember when she was born. The way her eyes shined. It was unnatural. But God, she was beautiful. Is…”

Mary took a deep breath, her injuries healing. She stood behind Doc, watching Thana and me.

“Now this man. The only love of my life raised her. Tried to push her away from this. But there is a destiny for all of us. It calls to us, because God knows what we are meant for.”

I paused.

Watching my mentor and friend go through this. All the pain and grief he’d experienced over the last six years. It bore into me.

“Are you there, God?” I whispered, closing my eyes. I felt a chill run up my spine. “I know what I want to say now.”

I stepped forward to get a better angle.

Lifting the pistol in my right hand, I fired.

Everything slowed to a crawl. I didn’t even realize Mary was moving toward Doc, her fangs bared. Thana didn’t have a shot.

The silver bullet travelled through the air.

The impact was silent in my ears. Only the sound of my blood rushing.

Mary fell harmlessly to the floor with a loud smack. Doc fell to his knees beside her, sobbing. This wasn’t easy. I made a call that would leave a mark on all of us.

Thana moved to Aelina, undoing her binds and removing the gag.

“Dad…” Aelina’s voice cracked as Thana freed her.

I could only look to the ceiling. The angels painted up there looking down on me. They weren’t mocking anymore.