“I’m not sure of anything anymore,” Adam mumbled, looking on as Emil browsed through pictures, which stopped after Grandmom’s death. But there was something else on the next page, an envelope addressed to… him.
He swallowed, and stared back at Adam, his heart beating like mad. “Adam, I’m suddenly feeling the urge to pray. Is that normal?”
For Emil, the envelope stated, Do not open before June 23rd, 2011.
That was eight freaking years ago—his twenty-first birthday.
Adam squeezed his shoulder, leaning forward with a soft glance. “I think you should do what feels right. Do you want me to pray?”
Emil nodded. Had grandma committed suicide and no one ever told him? His heart ached when he thought what suffering she must have gone through after losing her only daughter and a son-in-law. All because of him.
Emil opened the letter with trembling fingers. “Is it okay if I read it out loud?” He craved for someone to be with him, to not be alone with whatever awaited in there.
When Adam nodded, Emil cleared his throat and read.
“My beloved Emil,
I need you to know that everything I ever did, was for you. You’re my heart, and my joy. If you are reading this after June 23rd, 2011, it means that we have failed. You should leave Dybukowo at once and never come back.
Take the horse with you, and kill it, but only on Forefathers’ Eve of the year when you read this.
Yours,
Grandma.”
In the silence that followed, Emil could hear the insects outside, but his heart gradually beat faster and louder, until even Adam’s voice sounded muted.
“Why would she tell you to leave?”
Emil could barely swallow. “My granddad died the year before this date. Maybe he was supposed to give it to me. This is… unsettling. Maybe she was getting dementia? She’d been through traumatic events.”
Emil couldn’t stop staring at the letter, unable to comprehend what it implied.
Adam leaned in, offering Emil a gentle hug. His warm breath tickled Emil’s neck, but there was nothing sexual about it. It was comfort. “You think there’s a chance one of those other boxes could reveal more? Old doctor’s notes maybe?”
Emil nodded and squeezed Adam’s wrist. “Let’s check. I just…” He couldn’t scratch the itch that had been at the back of his brain since reading the letter, but it finally hit him. “It makes no sense. The letter’s dated a week before she disappeared, and my grandad only brought Jinx to me on the night after she disappeared. How could she know about him? Granddad said he found the foal in the woods, and he made me promise to always care for it.”
Adam exhaled. “Maybe he wanted to comfort you after she disappeared?” he asked, gently rubbing Emil’s back in a way that felt so right only Emil’s brain held him back from pressing a kiss to the blond head.
“But how did she know about the horse? Did they somehow arrange her death? What the hell?” He was rattled, but Adam’s closeness brought such unexpected comfort he itched to just lean into it.
“I don’t know,” Adam said after a moment, and rested his head on Emil’s shoulder.
“The Kupala Night is also my birthday. My gran always said that I was a lucky child to be born on that date. A celebration of both water and fire, of fertility and love. But I never met a person more unlucky than me. I broke my nose falling off a step ladder. I’m turning thirty this year, and I’ve gotten nowhere in life.” He turned his head, and when Adam’s scent overpowered his senses, there was just one thing he could say. “Would you come to the festivities with me? You know, not with me-with me, but just… would you?”
Their noses were only a fraction of an inch apart, yet Adam didn’t pull away. The sun shone through his lashes, casting a dark shadow on the cheek, and Emil couldn’t look away from the pale iris, because it felt like despite the rejection, Adam really saw him for who he was.
“I suppose we could find some clues there. Since it’s a pagan festival originally, right?”
“Yes. If anyone asks, just call it St. John’s night, and you’re good,” Emil said and suppressed the instinct to kiss Adam. That wouldn’t be happening ever again.
Chapter 13 - Adam
Adam had thought he’d have to work on persuading Father Marek that it would be fine for him to attend the traditional Kupala Night festivities, but the pastor told him to go before Adam could have broached the topic. As the sun descended, about to hide between the twin slopes beyond the lake on the edge of the woods, Adam stood on the shore and blessed the water in a bid to make it safe for bathing throughout the summer. Perfect excuse to mesh pagan tradition with Catholic rites, with a side dish of religion treated as a stand-in for magic.
A group of folk musicians dressed in white tunics and pants played fifes, drums, and lutes, adding to the sense of being in a different time and place. Their music wasn’t something Adam usually listened to, but he couldn’t help tapping his foot to the tune.
Adam hadn’t put the holy water away yet when Mr. Nowak, the village head and main organizer of the whole thing, stepped closer to the water and uncovered his barrel-like belly by taking off his T-shirt. “Bathing season’s open!”
Adam averted his eyes, but that didn’t help him much, because behind his back a whole crowd of mostly undressed party goers ran toward the water with screams of joy. Adam intended to glance in yet another direction when he realized not everyone wore bathing suits, but he froze when he spotted a body he knew most intimately.
Emil’s mane was on fire in the red glow of the setting sun. His body, a magnificent artwork of flesh, bone, and ink as he ran down the grassy shore and into the water,. Adam remembered just how good his weight felt on top of him a week ago, how strong his arms were—
“Harmless fun,” Father Marek said with a wide smile, face already flushed from the mead he’d enjoyed since they’d arrived an hour earlier. He wasn’t even pretending to look away from the nakedness on show.
“Yes.” Though Adam wasn’t so sure of this assessment, considering that the night would end with young people—most of them devout Catholics—going off into the night in pairs. And hadn’t Emil told him this holiday was the Slavic celebration of love? Fornication would be rife.
Which made Adam’s cheeks grow hotter, because he wondered if this was what his parents had done all those years ago. Had they conceived him this very night? Either way, he would not enter the dark forest when his cell phone had no reception.
Most of the young villagers he knew were here, as well as some unfamiliar faces, which amounted to a sizeable gathering that would have no issues stripping the meat off the pig Mr. Koterski, the forest ranger, had been roasting throughout the day. Adam was salivating already at the scent of crispy skin.
“You think they have a vegetarian option, or will he have to settle for bread?” asked someone from a group of people whose fashionable outfits suggested they weren’t local. But Adam didn’t listen to them any longer, entranced by the sight of bodies dancing in shallow water as if the perspective of getting into the lake at dusk had given the attendees a high. In the dying sun, the gentle waves glistened like rubies and cast that same glow on the bare flesh on show.
Everyone he knew was present. Even Mrs. Janina in a black bathing suit, and Mrs. Golonko, who begrudgingly stood on the outskirts of the gathering, ankle-deep in the water. Adam didn’t understand what her problem was, because there was no obligation to attend the celebration. At first he thought that maybe she was worried about her daughter getting drunk, or something, but Jessika’s face was as sour as her mother’s and she didn’t make an attempt to remove her beige-and-gold romper. Though considering that Adam had never seen her without thick, Instagram-worthy makeup, he suspected she didn’t want to sacrifice her perfectly-molded eyebrows on the altar of having fun with her peers.
“Is there an occult component to all this?” Adam joined Father Marek on his casual glide toward the roasting pig, but the allure of Emil’s skin s
till made him peek over his shoulder. In the dying light, Emil’s body shone with droplets of water. He didn’t even look Adam’s way as he splashed a redhead, who was so deep in the water only their shoulders and head were visible above the shimmering waves. Was that a guy or a girl?
Either way, Adam would have to steal a moment of Emil’s time. He hadn’t forgotten when Emil’s birthday was, and the least he could do for the man so devoted to helping Adam deal with the most traumatic moments of his life, was give him a gift that showed their friendship wasn’t one-sided.
Father Marek stopped at a picnic table and took a piece of Mrs. Janina’s excellent plum cake. When he turned back to Adam, the main bonfire lit up his friendly face. “Some might believe that, but you gotta admit it’s all good fun. And you’ve seen nothing yet. Kupala Night has really taken off since paganism and ancient Slavic history got fashionable in the past few years.”
Adam swallowed, glancing toward the lake, but Emil was obscured by Mr. Nowak, who chose this moment to head back to the shore.
Stars already twinkled in the sky above the roofs of Dybukowo, but the moment the sun disappeared behind the hills, so did all artificial lights. Adam flinched, his heart galloping when he remembered the last time the power went out, and he could already sense the devil crawling under his skin like a parasite.
The village melted into the dark landscape behind it, as if it had disappeared for good and they were plunged into a different dimension for the night. One in which the Catholic God had no power, and beasts ruled the forest.
Mr. Nowak walked up to him, putting a T-shirt back over his wet body, but in the glorious summer heat, he’d soon dry either way. “Did you see that? I always make sure the electricity supply is cut off to make the fires extra special. If the city rats moving to the mountains don’t like it, they can sit in the darkness for all I care. Last year, a whole bunch of them came here and complained there was no Wi-Fi. Kupala is for living and experiencing, not spending time on your phone.”
Adam exhaled, shifting closer to the huge pyramid of burning wood that smelled of juniper. On the other side of the bonfire, Emil left the water in the company of the redhead, who was most definitely a man. And a quite handsome one too, with long, straight hair and graceful limbs.
Nowak let out a gurgle of disgust. “Can you talk some sense into that bastard, Father? Because he isn’t listening to me,” he said, his voice lowering as he looked toward Emil and his friend.
“About what?” Adam asked.
“I don’t want him around my son. Yet whenever Radek’s here, Emil tries to wind himself around my boy like a viper. I’ve tried to persuade Radek that it’s not the right company for him, but he’s young, impressionable, and thinks he doesn’t need his father’s advice anymore. I don’t want my son ending up as an unemployed bum like that one over there.”
Adam’s head thudded with the sudden realization that Radek’s skin was scattered with freckles, like those of which Emil had spoken during his confession. Was he Emil’s secret lover? The same Emil lusted for so strongly even while he tried to woo Adam into his bed?
His tongue felt too big for his mouth and dry as a field that hadn’t seen rain in months when Emil pulled Radek closer, tickling him while the other man shouted something, trying to sneak his way out of the firm embrace.
And still, not a glance Adam’s way. Was it the cassock that put Emil off? Or did he just not matter when Radek was around?
“Father?” Mr. Nowak stared at him, his chin trembling in barely held-back anger.
The need to confront Emil about Radek’s presence was overwhelming in its nature, even though he had no claim to Emil’s time or his desires. It still stung to be so interchangeable with another man.
“I will talk to them,” Adam said, and it was the perfect excuse to leave Nowak, the pastor, and Mrs. Janina behind.
In the light of the fire, damp bodies disappeared under white tunics and dresses, but Adam paid no mind to the still-bare skin on show as he made his way through the joyous crowd, straight toward the thick tree where Emil stood next to Radek, whose skin was as appetizing as a loaf of bread straight out of the oven. But the hand-shaped brands on his back, which had healed miraculously within the week, were a mark of Adam’s touch, and the sense of anger over Emil spending time with someone else buzzed inside Adam’s chest—unwanted yet unmistakeably there.
When Emil spotted Adam, he didn’t seem uncomfortable or flustered and offered him a wide smile. It was the first time Adam had seen Emil wear white. After the dip in the water, Emil donned a pair of white linen pants and a matching tunic, hiding the piercing glinting on his left nipple. Despite their loose fit, Emil pulled the outfit off with the same ease he did the tight jeans.
“This is Adam, the new priest I was telling you about,” Emil said to Radek who introduced himself and held out his hand in greeting.
“Blessed be Jesus Christ.”
“Oh. Now and forever,” Adam said, feeling somewhat awkward about invading their conversation. It scared him how comfortable Emil seemed with Radek, his smile open, as if all the bad things that spoiled his days no longer mattered in that pretty boy’s presence. “Only good things, I hope,” he said stiffly, meeting Emil’s gaze as his heart galloped, fueled by a nervous voice at the back of his head that told him Radek already knew it all.
“Oh no,” Emil said and shook his head. “I told him all about you chastising me for fortune telling.”
Radek snorted. “To be honest, when Emil told me he was doing that, I thought it was stupid too. And speaking of you…” Radek crouched by his backpack and pulled out a crumpled gift bag. He handed it to Emil with an even bigger smile than before. “Happy birthday!”
Adam’s cheeks tingled. He had a gift of his own, purchased on a day trip to Sanok, where he also confessed his sins to a priest so old and gray he wouldn’t have recognized Adam if they met face-to-face, but he couldn’t offer it to Emil in public, because the closeness it implied might make people talk. He couldn’t afford to make enemies in a place where he was still a stranger.
Radek pulled on the rest of his white outfit but kept his gaze on Emil, his eyes glinting with excitement, as if he couldn’t wait to see Emil happy. And he’d gotten what he wanted when Emil pulled a book. Whisperer Women. Their Past and Present. Wow, that sounds really interesting,” Emil said, looking at Adam, whose feet sank into the ground when Emil showed him the front cover. “I might find out more about what my Grandmother was up to.”
It was the same book Adam had gotten. The same fucking one, and he’d thought it would make the perfect gift, one that didn’t imply intimacy, yet showed that Adam took care choosing the right present. He was now empty-handed because of Radek.
Radek rolled his eyes. “Yeah, my dad keeps telling me to stay away from ‘Whisperer spawn’. You should read my palm, he’d throw a fit.”
Adam was still wallowing in his misery about the book when this other knife got stuck into his back. “You still read palms?”
Emil patted Adam’s shoulder. “No, I don’t, Father. And I won’t.” He glanced at Radek. “Sorry, I promised. My fortune-telling days are over.”
Radek shrugged, but his golden-brown gaze settled on Adam for a fraction too long. Was he suspecting something? “Maybe it’s for the better. I’m trying to make Emil join me in Cracow and find some work there, but so far he keeps coming up with excuses not to,” he said and delivered a playful punch to Emil’s stomach, which in Adam’s eyes was the equivalent of flirting.
He’d had crushes on school friends or acquaintances. Once he’d even fantasized about one of Dad’s friends, but he had never before felt such intense jealousy. The wicked part of his mind showed him Radek falling into the bonfire behind, and Adam’s own face smiling as the red hair turned to flame. He was the epitome of the dog in the manger, who would guard the apples yet not eat them himself.
“They’re hardly excuses. I can’t just leave on a whim,” Emil said, but the fact that he want
ed to, that he would move in with Radek in Cracow, and likely share a bed with him, had Adam on pins and needles.
Radek groaned. “Can’t Father Adam look after Jinx for a week? Do a good deed?”
“I know nothing about horses. In fact, I can’t even keep cacti alive, so maybe that wouldn’t be such a good idea,” Adam said with a laugh that sounded so fake he wondered whether he shouldn’t just leave Emil in peace with the man who was willing to give him everything Adam wasn’t.
“It’s okay, I’ll work something out,” Emil grumbled.
Radek groaned. “You always say that.”
Adam hated himself for relishing in their discord.
Mr. Nowak’s booming voice resonated in the air. “It’s now time for bonfire jumping! All those brave enough, line up over here!”
“Let’s go,” Radek said with a big grin on his freckled face, but Adam touched Emil’s arm before he could have followed his friend.
“I need to talk to you. Can we join you in a moment?”
Emil nodded at Radek. “See you in a sec.”
Had he winked, or was that just the flickering light from the fire playing tricks on Adam?
Adam’s cassock had never felt as hot as it did when they faced one another among people who might spot the flush creeping up Adam’s nape or the dark shade of Emil’s gaze. “I didn’t forget your birthday either,” he said, even though he had nothing to give. He had to buy himself time. “I’ll give it to you later. I don’t want people talking.”
“Adam…” Emil smiled. “No need, but thank you. Can’t wait for it, you tease.”
Adam’s nape burned as if the flames dancing in the middle of the clearing were only inches away. The double meaning of Emil’s words was obvious. “The shepherd can’t single out one sheep from his flock. Especially if it’s the black one.”
“And yet he does.” Emil started walking toward the fire backwards, and this time, Adam was sure he winked. At him.
Where the Devil Says Goodnight Page 17