“Hello, Brother Elijah,” I said.
He nodded. “Brother Jacob. Brother Micah.”
Although Sara followed closely behind, with her eyes down, Elijah didn’t acknowledge her. He wasn’t expected to, nor was I expected to introduce her. When she glanced up and saw Brother Elijah, her lip disappeared between her teeth and she reached for my hand. Damn, I wanted to know what she was thinking. Instead I searched her expression as I helped her into the backseat. She was true to our plan, and other than the fact that the pink had left her cheeks, her expression revealed nothing.
Though Brother Elijah often accompanied Father Gabriel, thankfully, Father Gabriel wasn’t in the SUV. I sat next to Sara in the backseat and tried to silently reassure her as I squeezed her hand. With Micah in the front seat, we rode in silence as Elijah turned the SUV around, headed into the trees, and drove toward the gate. After he entered an access code, the solid, wide gate moved, allowing us to leave the mansion’s compound. It wasn’t until we entered Highland Heights that Elijah spoke.
“Brother Jacob, as an Assemblyman, you’ll sit with the Assemblymen, and Sister Sara, you’re expected to sit with the Assembly wives.”
Her hand flinched within mine, but her head never moved. “Of course,” I replied. “I’ll show Sara where that is. When we were here before, I wasn’t on the Assembly.”
Shit! Now it was me who was rambling.
Elijah’s head turned slightly toward the rearview mirror. I nodded, doing my best to keep my tone and facial expression neutral. Fuck, it wasn’t going to be Sara who messed this up, it was going to be me, if I didn’t calm down.
“My wife,” Elijah went on, “is Sister Teresa. I told her to tell the other Assembly wives to expect a guest. They’ll be ready.”
I hoped that was a good thing, because given the way Sara was clinging to my hand, I didn’t want to be separated from her, not even in a church filled with followers, and I was certain that she felt the same. So much for keeping promises. Not only couldn’t I be with her but also neither could Micah. The two of them knew each other only from services, but each had heard the other’s name often.
Micah was also married. His wife and their young son were back at the Northern Light. He and I both knew this entire situation of taking Sara to the Eastern Light was highly unusual. When we were getting the Cessna ready for the trip, he had reached for my arm and whispered, “I don’t understand this. I piloted Father Gabriel for years before you came. I’ve never transported a woman back to the Eastern Light.”
I nodded, my concern obviously visible.
“Brother, I’ll do all I can to help,” he reassured me.
“We just have to bring her back.”
Micah nodded. “I hear you. I mean, we don’t choose them, but once they’re ours . . .” His words trailed away. Micah was a good man, a good pilot, and a good husband. There weren’t a lot of men who treated women the way Abraham did, at least not at the Northern Light. I mostly credited Luke with that. He worked hard, monitoring and doing what he could to keep the wives safe. If someone else had his job, the outcome could have been much different. I didn’t know how it was at other campuses.
We pulled up to the back of the large white building housing The Light, located on the corner of Second and Glendale Avenues. When I turned, Sara’s eyes were closed. She was concealing her fear visually, but damn, from her pulse and grip I felt it. Hell, I even smelled it, if that was possible. It emanated from her, creating a cloud.
The Northern Light had grown to nearly five hundred followers, and yet the Eastern Light had stayed relatively stable, its population hovering around one hundred. With that number, its temple was much smaller than ours, composing only a small part of the total building. Taking Sara’s hand, I led her through the doors. Each step was smaller than the one before, the old tile floor became figurative quicksand, sucking my shoes into the muck, slowing our steps as dread glued our hands together. Even the thought of letting go of her seemed impossible.
Perhaps I was paranoid, but as the followers made their way to their seats I sensed a different atmosphere from the one at the Northern Light. Everyone here seemed more tired and reserved. It made sense. The only male followers who remained at the Eastern Light were the ones who worked on either recruitment or logistics. Most of the female followers worked in the building across the street. While they had a small Preserve the Light operation, mostly they made illegal substances. It was Father Gabriel’s backup plan, his way to deflect law enforcement from the bigger illegal operations, if operations behind The Light were ever questioned. These followers were more aware of the dangerous side of The Light because they lived it.
Using the seating at the Northern Light as my guide, I took Sara to where I assumed the Assembly wives sat. I must have been right, because a woman stood.
Bowing her head, she said, “I’m Sister Teresa, my husband said to expect a new sister.”
New? What? Not new, just visiting.
“Sister Teresa,” I said, “this is my wife, Sister Sara. We’re visiting from another campus. I’ll return for her after service.”
She looked to the empty seat beside her and then reached for Sara’s hand. “Welcome, Sister.”
I made my way to the front, where Elijah too had an empty seat beside him.
“Brother,” Elijah said, “before service begins, I believe you’re wanted for a few minutes in the offices, on the second floor. Do you remember where you’re going?”
I swallowed my concern. I didn’t want to leave this room, not with Sara out there alone. “Yes, I remember.”
He nodded. “I’d try to be back before Father Gabriel gets here.”
My gaze narrowed. “Father Gabriel isn’t the one who wants to see me?”
Elijah shrugged.
I took a deep breath and looked out toward the congregation and sighed. I felt a little better seeing Teresa and Sara speaking.
The Eastern Light’s temple was on the first floor. This building was quite large and used for many purposes. When I’d first entered The Light, like most voluntary followers I’d spent most of my time in this building. The second floor held offices as well as classrooms for new-follower training. Part of the introductory process was learning and retaining Father Gabriel’s teachings. The third floor had testing centers—individual cubicles where daily examinations were performed. There was constant analysis of a follower’s dedication to The Light before that follower could be assigned to one of the other campuses. The fourth floor had dormitories for new followers and apartments for permanent residents. The Assemblymen and Commissioners’ apartments were in the far end of the building across the street, giving them some privacy.
As I rounded the corner at the top of the stairs for only a brief second, I saw Richards as he stepped in front of me.
What the fuck?
“Let’s see how you like it, asshole.”
I didn’t have time to process his words before his fist contacted my jaw, catching me off guard and sending my face flying to the left. Instinctively I reached to the wall. Before I steadied myself enough to retaliate, my arms were seized from behind.
CHAPTER 19
Sara
I couldn’t believe I was in the building I’d watched. Memories of my investigation came back, reviving my curiosity. As I looked around, I contemplated the size of the temple. There had to be more in this building. I wondered what that included. And then I remembered the abandoned school building across the street—the one I’d seen women walk to. For only a moment, I considered asking the other wives what they knew, but then I reminded myself that Sara wouldn’t question.
When I first sat, I had a strange sense about the other Assembly wives making me wonder how we at the Northern Light would react if a new wife came to us. Almost immediately my unwelcome feeling faded as Sister Teresa and the woman on my other side, Sister Martha, seemed to relax and greeted me. Soon the other Assembly and Commission wives were shaking my hand and telling me their
names.
Since they were all part of the chosen, I could tell them that I was from the Northern Light. While the followers weren’t as informed, the chosen knew about the other campuses. It was as Sister Teresa spoke that I realized what had facilitated their acceptance.
“Sister Sara, have you thanked God and Father Gabriel for your husband?”
Lowering my eyes, I nodded. “Yes, Sister, I have. I’m thankful he loves me enough to correct me.”
It was a bond—a sick, twisted bond, but somehow, in this fucked-up world, it gave the women of The Light a connection. For only a moment, I thanked Thomas for the bruise that had opened these women’s hearts. I didn’t want to be here among them, but if I had to be, I was glad we could find a common denominator to keep me from being the outsider.
“How long have you been in The Light?” Sister Martha asked.
“My husband said we’ve been at Northern Light for over three years.”
“Your husband?”
I nodded. “Yes, about a year ago I had an accident. I don’t like to talk about it, but I must have hit my head. I don’t remember anything before that.”
“Oh,” Sister Teresa said, “that must be terrible.”
I sighed. “It was, but everyone’s been so helpful.” I shrugged. “I think I’ve just accepted that my earlier memories weren’t important. If they were, and if remembering them was God and Father Gabriel’s will, I’d get them back.”
“It’s good to have you with us, Sister,” Sister Martha said.
From time to time, I’d try to look about. I searched for the piercing blue eyes in my memory. However, Dylan’s being at service didn’t make sense. He’d never left on Sunday mornings or Wednesday nights when we dated. Not that I’d spent every Sunday and Wednesday with him, but I had spent some.
I watched the room as men and women of all ethnicities continued to enter. The sanctuary wasn’t only smaller than ours, it was much older. The walls were painted cinder block, and everything was clean, but obviously worn. The threadbare carpet was in need of replacement. From what little I’d seen and learned, I believed The Light’s money went other places.
Polished wooden beams peaked at the center of the ceiling, and long cylindrical lights hung from cables. Toward the front was a raised stage. Where some churches might have had a choir was the seating area for Commissioners and Assemblymen. I held back my panic as I realized that Jacob wasn’t there. I’d watched him walk in that direction, but as I took in the surroundings, I realized something must have happened. The chair next to Brother Elijah was empty.
I turned, searching for Brother Micah. He wasn’t too far behind me. When our eyes met, he opened his wide and slightly shook his head.
What does this mean? Where is he? Where did he go?
Biting my lip, I debated my options. I knew that Jacob wouldn’t leave me. Besides, Micah was still here. If I had been the one to go missing, he would have searched for me. I owed him the same.
“Sister Teresa,” I asked, “is there a restroom that I could use before service?”
“It’s about to start.”
I wrinkled my nose. “I haven’t told anyone,” I whispered, “but I think I could be pregnant.”
“Oh, I understand. Yes, let me show you . . .”
Just as we were about ready to stand, the room quieted, and Father Gabriel entered the stage from a door on the right, and walking behind him was Jacob. Sister Teresa shook her head as I nodded my understanding. We wouldn’t be leaving our seats until the service was done.
I narrowed my eyes, trying to see my husband more clearly. Though he appeared fine to all the followers as he took his seat by Brother Elijah, I could tell something was off. Continuing to stare, I waited until his dark eyes met mine. When they did, his jaw clenched, and even from far away, I saw the anger in his eyes and the tension in his shoulders just before his expression changed.
Something had happened, and he was trying to shield me. I just didn’t know what.
Throughout the entire service I waited for something, for anything from Jacob or Father Gabriel. I didn’t know whether he would make a big deal about our visitor status or whether he’d make some kind of announcement. Instead the service progressed as it would have at the Northern Light. I stood and sat at all the right times, recited the responses and verses as well as anyone.
I’d learned my lessons well.
As I began to relax, I noticed Sister Teresa’s hands upon her lap. With her dark skin, the burned tips of her fingers were even more pronounced. Rolling my wrist and seeing my own fingertips fueled my need to help end this travesty. And then everything changed.
CHAPTER 20
Jacob
Minutes earlier
“What the hell?” I said, as my arms were pinned behind me. I couldn’t see the person holding me back, but I sure as hell could see the asshole in front of me.
“I saw her face,” Richards said, his jaw clenched.
Heat boiled in my chest as I worked to relax my arms. Apparently he was done with his little right-hook demonstration.
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“Stella! That’s her fucking name.”
“Stella?” I did my best to sound confused. Moving my shoulders, I said, “Let go of my damn arms. I’m not going to hit this asshole.”
“No, of course not,” Dylan replied. “You only hit women.”
Whoever was behind me released my arms, and I took a step toward Richards. “You’re talking about my wife. And what happens between me and my wife is none of your damn business.”
He ran his hand through his hair. “It is my damn business, more than you fucking know.”
I took a deep breath and spoke louder than I should. “Father Gabriel gave Sara to me.” I emphasized her name. “If I choose to correct her, it’s my decision. Not yours.”
When I turned I saw a large man I didn’t recognize. Though he’d taken a step back, I had no doubt that if I went for Richards, he’d go for me.
“She’s . . .” Richards turned away before spinning to face me again. “She’s walking around like the zombie women around here. What did you do to her?”
“What did I do?” Fuck you. “Go to hell! I remember you. You were with her in Dearborn. You had her and you turned her over. She’s mine now, and I’m keeping her.”
“You’re keeping her? Like she’s a fucking possession? This is insane.”
“No, not a possession, my wife.”
“Gentlemen.”
A chill went through me, silencing us all, as Father Gabriel emerged from a doorway farther down the hall. The man behind me and I immediately shifted our stances, standing taller and bowing our heads, to reflect the reverence we felt for Father Gabriel. Conversely Richards casually leaned against the wall and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans.
Patting Richards’s shoulder, Father Gabriel said, “This is The Light, we don’t argue, we don’t fight, and”—he leaned toward Richards, his voice low and methodical—“We. Don’t. Drop. Fucking. F. Bombs. Am I clear?”
“Yes, Uncle,” Richards said, though it appeared it pained him to do so.
“Brother Jacob,” he said, looking in my direction.
“Yes, Father.”
“We have much to discuss.” He pulled up the sleeve of his silk suit, revealing a watch, as well as cuff links that I would guess could have been sold to pay off the debt of a few small nations. “However, now is not the time. Service is about to begin.” His brow rose. “I assume Sister Sara is seated with the other Assembly wives?”
“Yes, Father.”
“Very well.” He turned back to Richards. “Won’t you join us? It’d be good for you.”
Pulling himself away from the wall, Richards again ran his hand through his hair. Although he was answering Father Gabriel, his stare never left me. “No, I need to get the hell out of here.”
I’d never in three years heard anyone tell Father Gabriel no, but from the way Richar
ds walked away without waiting for Father Gabriel’s response, I got the distinct impression that neither of them found it unusual.
“Children can be so disrespectful,” Father Gabriel said, looking at me.
Child? Richards had said uncle. They were related?
I wanted to ask what all of this meant, for me, for Sara, but of course I couldn’t.
“Brother,” he said, laying his hand on my shoulder. “I see you have questions and admire your restraint. I always have admired that about you. The thing is that I have questions too.” He patted my shoulder. “The difference is that I can ask mine. Before I return to the Northern Light, we will talk.”
What the fuck does that mean?
“Yes, Father.”
As he walked past me and the other man, he casually asked, “How is Fairbanks this time of year?”
Thoughts bombarded my mind. “Fairbanks? It’s fine. Whitefish was out of some of our supplies. I called Brother Daniel—”
He waved his hand. “Never mind that right now. Do you have my envelope from Brother Reuben?”
Envelope. What envelope? I had a faint recollection of Brother Reuben’s handing me something at the Western Light. I couldn’t recall anything after that.
“I do. It’s at the Northern Light.” I hoped it was. Was this the test?
He nodded. “I see.” Walking away, he said, “Come, it’s time for service.”
I followed him down the hall and down the stairs. The other man followed closely behind, as if he needed to be sure I wouldn’t make a run for it. There was no way I’d do that, not with Sara in the congregation.
As I sat, Brother Elijah nodded.
Had he been doing Father Gabriel’s work or Richards’s by telling me to go to the offices? Did Richards possess the power to direct Assemblymen? With each minute, the questions multiplied.
Looking out to the congregation, I found Sara and exhaled—she was all right. When her eyes met mine, I tried to relay calm, to let her know that it would be OK. At least I knew Dylan Richards wouldn’t be surprising her here during service.
Away From the Dark (The Light #2) Page 16