The White Lily

by Susanne Matthews

  “You’re awake,” he says, and she hears the smug satisfaction in his voice. “I’m so glad. I was afraid you’d miss all of the fun.” His voice is smooth, like velvet, a lover’s promise that turns her blood cold.

  “What are you going to do?” she taunts him, bravado to cover up the terror. “Crown me with thorns?”

  He hits her with the butt of the gun he’s holding and the acrid taste of blood fills her mouth. She moves her tongue to the side and feels the broken tooth. She spits it out onto the floor and he laughs.

  “That was your fault, Mariah.” He runs the cold barrel of the gun along her body, tugging on the chain at her breasts, sending excruciating pain through her. “Blasphemy is a sin. You need to be respectful to your master.”

  She spits a second time, this time hitting the edge of his robe. “He’s not my master.”

  The whip in his hand cuts into her breasts and makes the locket move. He’s angry, and she doesn’t care. After what he’s already done to her, how much worse can it get? “You’re right. I am. Scream for me, bitch.”

  With every ounce of hatred in her, she forces herself to laugh.

  “Never.”

  The whip comes down again, over and over. She can’t feel the pain anymore. She’s in her safe place. Silence cocoons her, and she surrenders to it, hoping this time she won’t wake up. But he doesn’t let her rest. The ice water thrown in her face dribbles down her body, and it stings and burns like acid, dragging her back to consciousness.

  “You’re mine, Mariah. Rivers has given me to you. You will call me master. You will scream for me.”

  “Never,” she repeats, knowing she’s inviting more pain, but refusing to give in to him.

  Instead of striking her again, he holds a candy bar close to her mouth. Food. How long has it been since she’s eaten? How long has she been here? Surely she’s missed a check-in by now. They’ll come for her. The locket is still around her neck. They’ll find her.

  “Hungry?” He takes a bite of the candy bar, letting the caramel ooze out of it.

  She licks her lips, and he smiles. “Admit you enjoy it, Mariah. Pain can be quite liberating. Admit it while you can. Call me master, and I’ll release you. I’ll anoint you with the lotion that takes away your pain. You know I have it. See?” He dabs a drop on her nipple, and the throbbing eases. “Beg for it, Mariah. We can have all kinds of fun together. I can keep you once you’re broken.”

  She clenches her jaw and refuses to speak.

  “Fine. Rivers wants to make sure no one ever trusts you again.”

  He leaves the room but comes back only seconds later with a branding iron in his hand. Horror fills her as she tries to twist away, but she can’t.

  “T is for traitor, and St. Andrew’s cross will tell all you betrayed the son of God. No one will ever want or trust you again,” he says. “Now, scream for me, bitch.”

  He rams the hot brand against her stomach, and she can’t stop the scream that comes from deep inside her, a scream that goes on and on as if it will never end, like the searing pain on her stomach. He means to kill her this way. The brand will burn right through her. She smells the sickening aroma of her charred flesh. She begs for release, and the blackness finally accepts her one last time.

  “The next time I came to, I was crucified to the wall. I was bleeding and in so much pain I can’t even imagine a word for it. I expected to die at any minute. Only the knowledge that I still had my locket kept me alive.”

  “Why?” Jacob asked, choking on the word, as if asking the question was painful. Of course it was; by now, he was probably as disgusted with her as her fiancé had been.

  “There’s a GPS microchip in the locket. The FBI technicians put it in before I went undercover. I knew they’d find me, and when they did, they’d rescue those girls. As far as I know, it’s still in there. But things didn’t turn out as planned. The FBI raided the place, killed Rivers and nine others, but Pierce and the leader escaped and vanished, along with Kelly Kirk.”

  She sighed. “Now you know it all. I failed to complete my mission. I’m damaged goods. I’ll never be whole again. As Bill said when I told him some of this, if I hadn’t liked it, I’d have told Pierce what he wanted to know and spared myself the pain, but ...”

  Tears streamed down her cheeks. She pushed away and headed into the bathroom. Jacob didn’t say a word. What had she expected?

  • • •

  It was all Jacob could do to keep from tearing the room apart. My God, what she’d endured at that monster’s hands was a hundred times worse than what the bastard had done to him, but to have Bill, the man who was supposed to love her, say those cruel things, false things, was beyond anything Jacob could imagine. And she’d believed them. She’d decided she couldn’t have love, couldn’t have a life like others had because she was damaged goods. At the moment, he wasn’t sure who was the sickest, Pierce for inflicting the pain on her body or Bill for inflicting the scars on her soul. He took a deep breath to steady himself. Lilith needed him now, and he had to be there for her.

  Coming out of the bathroom, she stopped in the doorway. “You’re still here,” she said, genuinely surprised.

  “Of course I’m still here. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I figured you’d go back to your room ... leave because of what I told you.” She looked away and walked to the window, opening the curtain to look outside. Lightning flashed, and she closed the drape once more.

  “There’s a storm coming. I’ll be fine now.” She still didn’t look at him. She was clearly ashamed, but it was embarrassment she shouldn’t feel, shouldn’t have ever felt.

  “Don’t lie to me—not now, not after that. You’re not fine, but you will be. I’ll help you. We’ll get him, and then we’ll both be fine.” He swallowed. “I don’t have the words to tell you how awed I am by you. The amount of courage it must’ve taken to stand up to him like that, to take beating after beating and not crack ...”

  “But don’t you understand? Bill was right. I must be sick and depraved. I could’ve spared myself. All I had to do was tell Pierce what he wanted, scream when he told me to. Instead, I was stubborn and willful, and I’m marked because of it.”

  “Stop. You know that’s not true, and so do I. Come here,” Jacob said. “I’d come to you, but I didn’t exactly take the time to dress before running in here when you were screaming.”

  Lilith moved slowly back to the bed. Confusion marred her lovely face.

  “Look at me,” he said, sitting up. “Do you think I enjoyed this?” He turned so she could see his back, although it probably was not anywhere as torn up as hers was.

  “No, of course not.”

  “Then why in God’s name do you think I’d believe for a second you did? Do you honestly think he’d have stopped? He wouldn’t have. He’s a sexual sadist. Think of Tina Jackson. How much do you want to bet she called him master before he eventually killed her? That former fiancé of yours needs to have his head examined. If your scars were a problem, it was his, not yours. Consider yourself well rid of him.”

  Lilith stood there, tears slowly crawling down her cheeks. She turned her back to him and pulled the nightgown over her head. His own welts burned at the crisscross of scars on her back, buttocks, and thighs. Pierce must have struck her at least fifty times to do that much damage.

  Jacob got out of bed, heedless of his own nudity, and gently touched and then softly kissed each of her scars. He felt her tremble, but she didn’t ask him to stop or move away. “You are the bravest, most beautiful, most wonderful woman I’ve ever met.”

  Slowly he turned her toward him. She used her hands to cover herself, but he gently took them in his and moved them away. Tiny scars marked each side of her nipples, her breasts lined with the lash welts, the locket, like a talisman, hanging between them still. His gaze was drawn to the brand on her stomach, and holding her hands still, he pulled her to him and kissed the mark she found so offensive.

  “He said the T st
ood for traitor?”

  She nodded slowly.

  “I think T stands for a lot more than that. It stands for tough, tenacious, trusting, truthful, terrific ... I could go on. You are the most incredible person I’ve ever known. As you can see, it’s rather obvious right now that I’d like to take you back to bed and make love to you. I want you, Lilith. I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you.”

  He held out his arms to her. “Do you trust me not to hurt you?”

  “Yes,” she said and stepped into them.

  He picked her up and laid her on the bed; starting at her shoulder, he kissed his way down her body, laving each scar, each mark. When she timidly reached out and touched his, he was lost. He kissed her with everything in him, pouring out his need, his loneliness, his understanding of what had happened to her. When he entered her, it was like coming home, like he was where he was meant to be his entire life. When the climax came, he clung to her and called her name as she called his.

  Exhausted, he nestled her in his arms. Pierce might have branded her body, but Lilith had branded Jacob’s heart. He’d never be able to get enough of her. He finally understood what Andrew meant. Everyone was fated to be with someone, and Lilith was his destiny. Somehow, he had to convince her of that, because life without her in it would be meaningless.

  • • •

  “Wake up, sleepyhead.” Jacob waved a cup of coffee under her nose, pulling her out of the wonderful dream she’d been having.

  “Good morning.” She smiled. “You’re already dressed.”

  “Damn right. I forced myself to because I knew I couldn’t resist your charms, and our ride will be here in twenty minutes. When we’re done in New Hampshire, Trevor needs us to go by headquarters. After that, I have all kinds of wonderful ideas as to how we can spend the evening.”

  He wiggled his eyebrows, making her giggle. “Yikes, did you say twenty minutes?” She threw off the covers, realized she was naked, and tried to cover herself again. He put his hand on hers and set the coffee mug down on the table.

  “Lilith, look at me. You never have to hide those marks from me. They aren’t scars, sweetheart, they’re badges of honor.” He bent his head and kissed her, kindling a fire deep inside her—if only they had more than twenty minutes to spare.

  Pulling away slowly, she smiled. “Thank you. You’ve given me back my dignity.” He’d given her something else, too. Her heart was no longer dark, filled with nothing but hatred and anger. She’d recovered a little of the person she’d been. It wouldn’t happen overnight, but she could see the light at the end of the tunnel, and it wasn’t an oncoming train. “Now scram so I can get ready.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he answered and gave her a mock salute.

  She reached for the coffee and took two mouthfuls before going into the bathroom to shower. The woman who looked back at her in the mirror was a stranger. The scars were still there, but they didn’t seem as vivid as they’d been before. Her eyes were bright, not with unshed tears, but with happiness. She had no idea where this relationship might go, but for now, she’d live in the moment. They still had the children to find, Pierce to catch, and the Prophet to stop, and until they closed the case, a future together would have to wait.

  “One day at a time, Lilith,” she said aloud, “one day at a time.”

  Cleaned, dressed, and ready to go with two minutes to spare, Lilith walked into the living room and straight to the room service cart. “You marvelous, wonderful man,” she said, inhaling the scent of bacon.

  “Thanks.” He chuckled. “And does this epitome of man get a kiss for his efforts?”

  “He does, as long as I get to eat this breakfast before we go.”

  Jacob laughed. “I’ve got it covered. I told our security detail to give us a bit more time. Bacon and eggs work for you?”

  “They do,” she said, kissing him quickly.

  Fifteen minutes later, ensconced in the backseat of a patrol car with one ahead and another behind them, they headed for the museum’s helipad and their trip to the New Hampshire farm.

  “I’m not sure what you expect to find there,” Lilith said. “The forensic technicians went over the place thoroughly and brought as much of the evidence back with them as they could.”

  “I don’t know, Lil,” he said. She actually liked that nickname. “I need to see it for myself,” he said. “I’ve heard Faye describe it, and the settlers gave me a bit more insight, but it still doesn’t feel real.”

  She sobered and nodded, reminded once more of the FFOW. She’d insisted on going back to the compound and watching as the buildings were demolished one by one. Once there was nothing but rubble, she’d been able to turn away and start living again.

  “I’m hoping I can find something to jar my memory, too,” Jacob continued. “Something to tell me what they were doing here other than holding women and children prisoner. According to Faye, Peter was here, and having him involved in this kind of lifestyle makes even less sense than having James do what he did. My oldest brother was a geologist, totally wrapped up in what he’d learned. When I left, he was doing an apprenticeship with one of the big oil companies.”

  She reached for his hand and squeezed it, knowing he’d understand the comfort she was offering. “If there’s anything to find, we’ll find it.”

  The flight was a short one. When they arrived, they were escorted through the gates by Homeland Security personnel, keeping the area under strict surveillance. They toured the house and nursery where the children were kept, the stable that had housed the women, and finally entered the other, larger barn.

  Unlike the dormitory, this building smelled of horses. Jacob examined the eight stalls that must’ve been occupied at some point, including one that held a strange device. “What is that?”

  “It’s a breeding phantom. It’s easier than using a jump mare. From the look of this and the other equipment still in the work room, I’d say they’re collecting stallion spermatozoa.” His eyes were bright, his voice filled with excitement. He reentered the office. Above the desk hung a large calendar from a horse-breeding equipment company. “This is the collection schedule—four horses a day, every second day. Seth explained this to me years ago. Did the technicians find any record books, any logs?”

  “No, and I don’t think there was any horse sperm in what they collected either.”

  “I was afraid of that, but it doesn’t matter. We can use this to find them. You wondered how the commune was making money. This is it.”

  “I don’t get it. How will this help us? There aren’t any names here, just numbers, and I know enough about horses to know famous ones have names.”

  “We’ll talk to Micah. He maintained this equipment. Maybe he can describe the horses, and then we start looking for them the same way we’d look for a missing person. According to the file, James left with the horse trailer a couple of days before the raid. We have to assume he took the books with him. Those horses are somewhere, and that’s where we’ll start looking for the missing cult members. Come on. Let’s get back to Boston and talk to Micah.”

  It was just after two when they pulled into the underground parking at headquarters and took the elevator to the fourth floor.

  “Look what the cat dragged in,” Tom said when the door opened. He sobered. “How are you doing?”

  Lilith smiled. “Better than I thought I would. How much did Trevor tell you?” So much for keeping files sealed, but it really didn’t matter now. If the information in her dossier helped capture Pierce ...

  “Not a lot, but enough for me to understand what you must’ve gone through. I hated the son of a bitch when I first met Pierce, and that feeling is mild compared to the way I feel now.”

  “Join the club,” Jacob said. “Where is everyone?”

  “They’re in Trevor’s office. We got intel from Bellows Falls. The found a couple of bodies in the farmhouse. It looks like they’ve been dead a couple of years—not in very good shape. Amos should have them by Monday
.”

  “I guess that means we’re on the right track with the Vermont plates on that van,” Lilith said, “but I wish every lead didn’t result in more bodies. We have news, too. The trip to the New Hampshire farm may have given us a way to track the missing cult members.”

  “Seriously?” Tom said, his eyes lighting up.

  “Why don’t you go ahead?” Lilith said. “I’m just going to drop off my purse and use the restroom. I won’t be long.”

  “I can wait ...”

  “For Pete’s sake, Jacob, we’re in police headquarters. I’m probably safer here than in the hotel.”

  He nodded and followed Tom down the hall. Lilith pushed open her office door, put down her purse, and saw the note on her desk.

  Come down to the morgue as soon as you get this note. I have new information you’ll want to hear. —Amos

  She frowned. He must’ve found something on one of the bodies that pointed either to the bomber or to Pierce’s whereabouts. On her way to get Jacob, she stopped and shook her head. Hadn’t she just said she was perfectly safe here? Besides, she could hear the men talking, and it sounded as if they were onto sports talk again. It wouldn’t take long to go down to the morgue, find out what Amos had for her, and come back up.

  Pressing the elevator button, she let the doors close. As soon as they opened, she noticed that the hall wasn’t as well lit as it had been when she’d been down here with Jacob on Tuesday.

  Near the main autopsy area, she called out. “Amos, it’s me. What’ve you got?”

  “Hello, Mariah. It’s about time you got here.”

  Panic welled up inside her, but before she could reach for her gun, she felt a needle prick in the side of her neck.

  “You’ve been a bad, bad girl.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Jacob glanced out into the hall but couldn’t see Lilith. He looked down at his watch. She’d said she’d be in shortly, but that had been ten minutes ago. Where the hell was she?

  “You look like I used to when my teenage daughter was late coming home from a date,” Tom said. “Relax. She’s fine. She’s probably fixing her makeup or something.”