He had been high in the parish before the War, a stoutly religious widower for a decade, but that was a long time to go without even the soft caress of a woman's hand, let alone any intimate contact. Then the War and this woman had come together. Years spent resisting sins of the flesh should have prepared him, but now, when The Judgment had come and gone, leaving his faith crumbled at his feet, this demon had been sent to tempt him…and her lure was stronger than any he'd ever known!
These men might have already forced anyone else to stay here, the medical skills as valuable as water, but not her, not Angela. She was different. She knew things there was no way she could know, unless the Demon of Souls possessed her, and all the men, especially Warren, dreamed of claiming her and controlling that unknown power.
Angela kept busy laying out what she needed and avoided making real eye contact with any of the pitifully thin men watching her every move. She had never seen young males here, suspected that was on purpose, like in the Mormon colonies where the average marrying age for a girl was thirteen.
Angela discreetly let the Witch inside to listen to Warren's thoughts, but picked up nothing other than lust. The big decisions belonged to him. She knew he wanted very much to keep her here for himself - that his warnings came from hoping she would accept his offer of protection, so he wouldn't have to fight the others for her. The men of the world were now like the animals - in extreme competition for a mate (slave, whore) - and she knew if she encouraged even one of these starving contestants, they would all start fighting over her. Humankind had fallen backward in evolution to nearly the caveman days, and she was as impersonal as she could be.
"I'm giving her three shots. One's for the pain. Don't mix any other dope with it, even if she cries. She's too weak for the stronger stuff. One will help fight the infection, and this last one will bring down the fever. She should probably have a tetanus shot too, but not for a few days."
She did it quickly, feeling the Father wince behind her, but the little girl didn't respond. "Now, we'll dig that piece of metal out of her shoulder."
Warren moved to help, leaning closer than she was comfortable with, and Angela was glad she was able to force herself to stand her ground, control her flinch. Showing weakness here was a huge mistake. If she gave them the smallest sign that she could be taken, they would try.