There was no escape.
Of that Anna was sure.
Who would even believe her?
If she wrote a letter to her father would he even receive it?
She felt sick, but she also felt... excited. Was that the name for the dampness between her thighs?
She was horrified, yet giddy. Her hands shook as she held them together in prayer. Sweat trickled down her back and there was a cramping deep within her abdomen.
After the incident with the groundskeeper, she'd returned to her room. She had gone through her duties with a hollowness deep within her that wanted, no craved, to be filled.
A hollowness she hadn't even know existed until she'd come to the convent.
'I told you not to go out at night.'
Anna started and turned to see Sister Jane kneeling beside her. Anna felt her face flush was colour as she remembered the groundskeeper rutting the nun.
'There's no getting out now,' Sister Jane whispered, turning her rosary beads in her fingers. 'Once you have a taste, there's no forgetting. And they don't forget you.'
Anna remembered the feeling of the groundskeeper's tongue sliding into her body. Normal tongues didn't feel like that. So long. So thick. Serpentine and abnormal, but somehow she wanted to feel it again.
'You should have warned me,' she hissed, caught between tears and arousal.
'I did,' Sister Jane said, 'more than anyone ever warned me.'
'Do they only come at night?' Anna whispered.
Sister Jane smiled grimly. 'No, no they don't.'
***
'Anna!'
Anna jumped, dropping the hymn book she had been pretending to study.
Sister Beatrice stood at the door of her room, scowling at her. Anna felt a chill slide down her spine. Had the groundskeeper told Sister Beatrice what had happened between them?
'Follow me,' Sister Beatrice ordered her.
Anna followed Sister Beatrice to her office. She felt like her heart had crawled into her throat. But when they entered the dusty office, Anna realised that they were not alone. A man was standing with his back to them, looking out the one small window.
'Anna, this is Father Iago,' Sister Beatrice introduced them as she ushered Anna into the office. 'He will be with us for the next few days. He has taken an interest in some books in our library and you will assist him.'
Father Iago turned and Anna's breath caught in her throat. She had never seen someone before who looked so... inhuman. He was traditionally handsome but there was an edge to him. He reminded Anna of a beautiful rose, breath-taking but cutting.
Anyone who touched him would leave with bloody palms.
'Good to meet you, Anna,' Father Iago purred.
Anna flushed and nodded, looking down at her shoes. Her hands were damp with sweat and the cramping in her lower abdomen had become worse.
What was wrong with her?