by Shayla Black
“Of course.” Michael seemed loath to admit that.
Josiah felt fairly sure that, aside from the inductees, everyone understood this conversation way better than him.
“Off with you two, then.” Coleman waved Marcus and Michael away, then settled the stoned blonde into the nearest pew.
As the others left with their followers, Josiah leaned over to Mercy. “What’s going on?”
“Marcus trains a segment of the flock to defend us in case the collapse happens and we are beset by those who would steal our food. Michael takes in those who can help the Chosen, like the male nurse. Or those who can assist with our goals in . . . other ways.”
Other ways? Probably providing a receptacle for his wandering dick. That was the vibe Josiah got. Damn, these people were creepy as fuck . . . “And the rest of the new folks?”
“They’ll join the green warriors, tending the crops, inside and out. You see, everyone has a role here.”
“They do, sweet Mercy.” Coleman put a hand on her shoulder.
It wasn’t gentle, and if Josiah hadn’t been paying attention, he would have missed her stiffen.
“As I was explaining, sire.”
Coleman didn’t look terribly moved by her show of deference. “You have another as yet unfulfilled duty as prime sister of the Chosen.”
“That’s why I’ve brought Josiah to meet you. For your approval, sire.”
He paused, sensing this sudden, unexpected development could be dangerous. He’d hoped not to come under their leader’s scrutiny before he was ready—and without backup.
“Welcome. Are you thinking of joining my following? Has Mercy told you of my teachings and our vision of the future?”
“Earlier this evening, yes. I’m giving every word she said proper thought.”
“Excellent. If Mercy is already introducing you to me, she’s eager for you to join our fold and perhaps play a special role in Enlightenment Fields. Ask her plenty of questions. I suggest you stay the night to aid your decision,” Coleman said, but it didn’t sound much like a suggestion. “I’ll be here to provide any other insight in the morning. Come, little dove. Michael says you’re pure of body?” At the woman’s wide-eyed nod, he turned a smile on her that was full of fake benevolence. “And pure of heart as well. You’ll make a lovely addition here, and I’ll make certain you feel welcome.”
Josiah wanted to warn the woman . . . but he couldn’t, not without blowing everything. And if she was under the group’s thrall this much, would she even believe him?
When Coleman helped the dazed inductee to her feet and escorted her out the door, toward a large dwelling in the distance, Mercy watched with a stilted smile. “Shall we?”
Not like Josiah had a choice if he wanted to figure out what the fuck was happening here. But he had some mighty ugly suspicions . . .
As soon as Mercy settled her new followers in a communal barracks, she led him outside. The smell of roasting meat and corn hung in the chilly air. A bonfire roared under the moonlight. Dancing ensued. More spiked liquid made the rounds.
They both grabbed a plate of succulent food, then sat on tree stumps at the edge of the festivities. Josiah was almost afraid to eat, wondering what they might have laced all the grub with. But when Mercy forked in delicate bites, he hoped nothing was too worrisome and cautiously nibbled.
“Thank you for coming. It means more to me than you know.” She sent him a sidelong stare that was part shy, part flirtatious.
“Thank you for inviting me.” What the fuck else could he say?
“You have questions.”
“A million.”
“If you’ll take a leap of faith and join us, I’ll answer them all.” She set her plate at her feet and grabbed his hand. “I want that so badly. More than anything.”
“Why? You barely know me.”
Mercy took a long time in answering. She bit her lip and said, “I was chosen as prime sister almost a year ago. It comes with certain . . . duties. They’re not something I can complete alone, and all this time I’ve been looking for the right someone to embark on this task with, to share in both the burden and the joy. No one I’ve come across has possessed the right qualities. This requires someone intelligent and open-minded, someone I can talk to, someone I don’t mind being beside. Someone I believe capable of loyalty and devotion.”
Josiah tried not to blink in astonished horror. What the hell was she about to propose, some sort of culty marriage?
“I’m listening.”
She took a deep breath and squeezed his hand. “Our sire’s vision is of four prime siblings he hand-selected as the primary ancestors of the next generation of Chosen who will grow up in our joyous way of life and truly understand what it means to live off the earth and share its bounties. You’ve seen all the women expecting babies, commented even. Marcus and Michael have done their duty by Enlightenment Fields many times over. Adam has even helped. They’ll persuade some of tonight’s new Chosen as well. And as you can see, we’re still seeking one more someone special enough to complete our circle of forefathers and foremothers. To our sire’s displeasure, I haven’t embraced my duties, though I’ve had permission for months.” Mercy pressed her lips together. “He’s been disappointed with my hesitation. But when you came, that began to ease. Now, I’m excited and I’m really hoping you’ll agree to join us. It would mean so much.”
Josiah froze. Though Mercy continued to dance around the truth, he hoped like hell she didn’t mean what he feared she did. “Why?”
“Because if Adam approves, you’ll be the first to breed me.”
CHAPTER 11
The following morning, Josiah rolled over in the bed. Oh, shit. Mercy was still beside him and he had one thought in mind: That was the first time he’d ever spent the whole night next to a woman he absolutely never, ever wanted to have sex with. He’d forced himself to stay at Enlightenment Fields and look interested enough to be considering her wackdoodle proposition. But holy shit, breed her? He didn’t care how much of an honor it supposedly was to be asked to impregnate the only existing prime sister. He refused to touch Mercy and he would never leave any child of his here to be used, manipulated, and exploited.
The whole night had been unnerving and uncomfortable. Before bed, Mercy had approached him on bare feet, locking stares with him, and whispered that she’d ached for him to end her years-long chastity and plant his seed inside her the moment she had laid eyes on him. All he had to do was say yes to Enlightenment Fields. Because he was an outsider, they wouldn’t be allowed to touch until he did.
That was fine by him. Even if that wasn’t the case, the answer would be a raving “fuck no.”
Telling her he’d have to think about her offer, he had pretended to drop off to sleep. Once Mercy found slumber, he managed to get a text out to Zy telling his fellow operative not to expect him until morning and to keep Maggie at home, calm, and safe. His buddy had replied that safe was no problem. Calm . . . not so much.
Grimacing, he’d powered down his phone to preserve his battery, stared at the ceiling, and tried to figure out the cult’s endgame. What did Adam Coleman want out of this gig? Zero-cost labor? Tax-free money? A never-ending variety of pussy? All of the above, he supposed. Plus, he got to exercise his need for power, since he clearly called all the shots, including who completed what tasks and who had sex with whom. He commanded his followers at will, exercising his whim. They would do or say whatever he demanded. Josiah bet he got off on that.
Sick fuck.
The rest of the night, he’d dozed all night with one eye open, far too aware of Mercy cuddled up to him in a sheer, pale nightgown. Thoughts of Maggie haunted him.
Dawn was probably twenty minutes away when he rose. He heard rattling downstairs. As soon as he left a vacancy on the mattress, Mercy rolled to the middle, one hand seeming to reach for him.
&nbs
p; Time to leave this place. He wished like hell he didn’t have to come back . . . but he knew better. This mess was far from over.
He slipped downstairs, peeking into the spare room across from the bathroom that doubled as a greenhouse on the first floor. The sealed wooden crates that had been in here last time were gone—except one. It had cracked and split, rendering it unliftable without breaking. And what do you know? Inside sat a collection of a half-dozen AR-15s all in a neat little row.
Cursing under his breath, Josiah snapped a pic on his phone, then slipped out, tiptoed past two women in the kitchen brewing up more of that fucked-up nectar, and headed outside. After last night’s shindig, everyone should be sleeping off their hallucinogenic trip so he could make a clean getaway. Instead, the whole community was gathered around seven people dressed in black robes who shed their shoes and hugged their fellow cultists goodbye. Someone sobbed nearby. A glance beside him proved a grown man was crying.
Josiah stepped closer for a better look, then found a woman, barely more than a teenager, staring in stark sadness, tears pouring down her mottled cheeks. “Are you all right? What’s happening?”
“Last Light.” She pressed her hands to her chest. “It’s always so sad, but today . . .”
What the hell did that mean?
“I don’t understand.”
“They’re leaving us. And we’ll miss them.”
Seven people had finally found a lick of sense and had decided to blow this festering loony bin of depravity? Good for them.
“Where are they going?” He had a truck. He could take them far away from here . . . after he and Deputy Preston had a chat with them and discerned whatever information they could.
“To the other side,” she sobbed.
He froze. Did she mean they were going off to their deaths? “Of what?”
“Life. It was so hard letting my mother go. But she chose this. Her productive time is at an end. She’s become a drain on the community’s resources. They all have. So after last night’s First Enlightenment, she volunteered for Last Light.”
She’d elected to die? “Productive how?”
“She has a degenerative back condition, so she can’t work the fields anymore. And at her age, her body can no longer breed. Since she can’t contribute meaningfully to our community, she chose to leave on honorable terms. I understand. But I’m so sad. Her youngest daughter is only four. Mary is so confused. I’ll have to raise her.” She dropped a hand to her stomach. “While raising my own. But Michael will help me. He always helps me.”
Josiah nearly puked. He’d bet Michael helped a whole bunch of women around here—right onto their backs. He seemed more like a lothario than a spiritual leader. Of course Coleman and Marcus had apparently done their fair share of seed spreading, too.
All these followers were absolutely fucking crazy.
“So . . . they walk into the sunrise and what?”
“We don’t know. It’s a mystery. But the sire assures us they cross to the other side in peace and love.”
He watched as each of the huddled figures in black robes took a bottle of something that looked darker and cloudier than the nectar they’d served last night.
“What’s that they’re drinking?”
“Tranquility potion. My mom said that once she volunteered for Last Light, she was given the recipe for a potion that would deliver her to the other side in serenity and slumber. She made it early this morning, and now . . .”
So they were taught how to poison themselves? And these people did it willingly?
Music began then, this tune meant to be a moving tribute to those Chosen who had taken the “honorable” path. The melody was a mournful if reverent wail. Josiah tried not to shake his head as the seven who had volunteered for Last Light drank every drop of the liquid while the sun finally crested above the horizon. Then they began to walk toward the fiery orb.
Holy fuck. Ritualized suicide?
Josiah couldn’t help these seven people by watching them walk toward their eternal slumber. He might not be able to help them at all, but he’d damn well try.
Whirling around, he turned and dashed back to his truck, getting the hell out of there pronto. His thoughts raced.
In the past, he’d volunteered for nearly every mission at EM Security—the more dangerous the better. After Whitney, he’d had nothing to lose, and the adrenaline had been a welcome rush. Now . . . he worried. Of course, with Maggie’s safety on the line, quitting was impossible. He had to press on.
But for the first time in longer than he wanted to admit, he worried that he might not make it out of this mission alive. And he could think of only one reason he truly gave a shit: Maggie.
* * *
• • •
Maggie had a morning routine. Today, she’d abandoned it and instead found herself wringing her hands as she paced the front porch and watched for Josiah to drive up the dirt road. As the sun began to inch up the sky, dread bit into her belly. No one had heard from him since last night. Her texts had gone undelivered. Zyron and Trees didn’t seem at all concerned. They just kept telling her that Josiah was smart and strong and he always managed to work himself out of any situation he got in.
That didn’t reassure her. The loons at Enlightenment Fields had probably killed both Mr. Haney and Mrs. McIntyre—pillars of the local community. Would they hesitate to do away with an outsider if he stood in their way?
A late-night call to Deputy Preston had been fruitless. He had been up to his eyeballs in her first-grade teacher’s senseless death and the growing fear among those in Comfort. Everyone wanted to know why their little town was no longer sleepy and what Deputy Preston intended to do about it. But what could he do without proof?
She’d also called Dixie for the inside scoop, but her friend hadn’t been on duty and she hadn’t answered her cell phone. Maggie understood the woman worked weird hours and had to sleep whenever the opportunity rose. But none of that was helping her find out what had happened to Josiah.
Half the night, she’d been doing a mental deep dive to find out why it mattered to her. Maggie didn’t like the answers.
“Morning.”
The sounds of footsteps behind her hadn’t really registered until the familiar voice called out in greeting.
“Morning, Sawyer.” She spared him the merest glance before turning her attention back to the long drive from the main road.
She sensed more than saw him come closer. “I know you don’t think this is any of my business, Maggie. But Josiah isn’t good for you.”
“Leave it alone.”
“I’m not giving up on you. We had something real good. I really thought we could work everything out. But you’ve been standoffish since Davis left. And you totally forgot about me once Mr. I’m-Former-CIA showed up.”
Maggie sighed at Sawyer’s snide sarcasm as she faced him. “You and I were never going to work. What we had . . . I needed it at the time, but I don’t see us working out long term.”
Because she didn’t have the kind of feelings for him that she had for Josiah. When she was with Sawyer, she didn’t feel like her heart was free-falling toward love. She wasn’t downright eager to be near him in every way. She didn’t miss him like the devil or tingle when she thought about his kiss. She definitely wouldn’t care if he’d spent all night elsewhere. Josiah, on the other hand . . . Sure she was worried about his safety, but she was also mad enough to spit nails.
“Don’t say that. I can’t forget you.” He clasped her shoulders in his tight grip. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t stop wanting you.”
Maggie wriggled free and turned away. “You have to.”
Sawyer chased. “Aww, don’t be that way, darlin’. I get that Josiah is a shiny new toy but . . . he found someone else.”
She whirled at his words, her heart stopping. “What?
”
“He was gone all night. What did you think he was doing?”
“To take care of a personal errand,” she hedged. Sawyer didn’t need to know about Josiah’s investigation.
“More like to do Mercy over at Enlightenment Fields.” And Sawyer looked happy to impart that news. “He spent the night with her. You didn’t know? What a bastard. But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised a guy like him wouldn’t bother to tell you before he hopped in someone else’s sack.”
Betrayal Maggie didn’t want to feel stabbed her deep. “You don’t know that’s what happened.”
“Actually, I do. A ranch hand who works outside Boerne is a friend of mine. He was invited out there last night, same as Josiah. He saw your boy toy follow Mercy into her house, watched the two figures through her bedroom window. The lights went out . . . and Josiah didn’t come out until just before sunup.”
She didn’t want to believe it. Sawyer had every reason to lie to her. “Bullshit.”
“Ask him yourself.” Sawyer tipped his head toward the road and Josiah’s truck rumbling over the dirt, toward the ranch. “I won’t even say ‘I told you so.’ And I’m always here to console you, darlin’, in whatever way you need.”
Whistling, he walked away with a confidence that made her grit her teeth. Maggie ignored him. Whatever Josiah had done last night didn’t matter.
Too bad she was terrible at lying to herself.
Maggie tried to look casual as she ambled to the front porch while Josiah climbed out of his dusty truck. He looked tired, guarded. Closed. Guilty?
“Hey.” She crossed her arms over her chest and stupidly hoped he’d kiss her, tell her nothing had happened last night, that he’d missed her.
Instead, he barely glanced her way. “Morning. You seen Trees and Zy? I need to talk to them.”
To brag to his buddies about last night’s conquest? “Around. Find out what’s going on out at Enlightenment Fields?”
“Not now.” He didn’t bother to meet her gaze, just scanned the yard. “I need to find the guys.”