by Celia Aaron
“We’ve had our trials, difficult times, and disappointments. But, tonight, I feel that we are on the correct path. Here with you lovely angels, I don’t know of anything that can stop Heavenly from spreading God’s word to all those who need to hear it.” He smiles, his beady eyes devouring all the Maidens before him.
I saw a movie once where a mummy would suck the souls of the people he killed until they dried up and blew away. The Prophet reminds me of that, the way he hungrily surveys the women before him, as if he wants to steal every bit of youth and heart and soul from each of us.
“Come, little one.” He motions to Hannah. “Sit with me and share your perfect innocence for just a moment.”
She stands, her posture bent, the drugs not in full effect yet, and sits next to him. He pulls her close to his side and whispers in her ear. She doesn’t react, her eyes downcast. It’s hard to square her with the girl who almost escaped with Sarah, Eve, Chastity, and me. What we did took guts, and perhaps it was a stupid attempt, but Hannah saw her chance and took it. Now, she’s empty. Whatever light she had in her has been extinguished, and I wonder if it will ever shine again.
The price for our freedom was too dear. We paid, and Sarah most of all. A hot needle pierces my heart when I think of her, how strong she’d been to even dream of finding a way out. I hope I can make her proud somehow, even if I don’t possess but a fraction of her courage.
The Maidens next to me giggle and paw at each other as Hannah leaves the throne and settles onto her royal-blue pillow. She grabs a handful of grapes and eats them.
“Delilah.” The Prophet’s gaze finds me, and he motions me up to his dais.
I thought I’d have more time. I don’t. I stand and walk to him, sitting on the crimson cushion as he wraps his arm around me.
His hand is dry and leathery as he squeezes my upper arm. “And how is my fallen angel enjoying her feast?”
My stomach churns and the desperate urge to run whispers up and down my spine.
“Doesn’t matter.” He grins. “The drugs will make you have a good time whether you want to or not.” His hand moves up and over my shoulder, his fingertips reaching for my nipple. “There’s one thing I regret, you know?”
I swallow, trying to keep my bile in check. “What’s that?”
“I wished I’d asked Adam—before I had him nailed to the cross—what your pussy felt like.”
My shoulders tense, but his hand clamps down on me, and he brings his other around to my stomach. I clench my legs together.
“Don’t be like that.” He draws his fingers over my skin, moving lower as I scream inside my head. “You gave it to Adam. Why not share it with me?” His fingers stop. “Though I hate to say that your senator has insisted that you not be spoiled any more than you already are.” He strokes lower, his fingers invading the sensitive skin between my thighs.
My eyes water. I want to tell him to stop, but I know that will only make it worse. He doesn’t violate me completely, his fingers skirting along the bare skin, but it’s enough. It’s enough that I want to vomit, to run, to scream.
“So soft and pale.” He removes his hand and grabs my breast with it, squeezing hard. “How did something so fragile ruin my firstborn son?” The edge in his voice grows jagged. “How did you, a worthless piece of ass, cause his downfall?” Pinching my nipple, he twists it then lets go.
I draw in a shaking breath as his hold on my shoulder loosens.
“I suppose it doesn’t matter now.” He adopts a more congenial tone. “What’s done is done, and the senator still wants you.”
“I was hoping to talk to you about that.” Just saying those words is like pulling a dagger from my body.
His eyes widen, then an indulgent smile crosses his lips. “What does my lily-white whore have to say?”
I can take his insults. They mean nothing to me. Just as he means nothing to me. But I’m here for more than words. “I spoke with Grace earlier today, but she refused my request to speak to you.”
“Go on.” He puts his hand on my thigh, resting it there as if I’m a piece of furniture.
“I’m ready for my assignment.” I hold his eyes, though their serpent-like nature sends a chill through my heart. “I’m ready to be what you need me to be for the senator.”
He arches a brow. “You’re ready to be in perfect obedience?”
“Yes, Prophet.” I drop my gaze. “I want to do your will.”
“Oh, my darling.” He pinches my leg. “I wish I could believe that.”
“It’s true.” I wring my hands. “If you send me to the senator, I promise I will be obedient to him and serve your will. You’ll see.”
“Why this sudden change of heart?” His hand inches up my leg. “What’s made the difference?”
“I see now that I have sinned against you. Grace and Noah taught me that. I was so wrapped up in myself that I didn’t open my heart to your words. But now I know better. And I’m sorry. And one day, I hope to be worthy of all the love you’ve shown me.”
He tilts my chin up. “How am I supposed to believe you? After all you’ve done? You tried to escape, led my son to ruin, then threatened to kill your one true mate.”
“I know.” I think of Sarah, of her blood, and of Adam, his screams on the cross. My eyes water, just as I intend. “And I will spend a lifetime trying to be the good girl you want me to be.” I slide to the floor and kneel at his feet. “I will make you proud. Please give me this chance to atone for all I’ve done.” Though I run the risk of retching, I take his hand and kiss the back of it. “Please, Prophet. Let me show you.”
“Show me?” He runs his other hand through my hair.
“Yes, please.”
He grins, and a shudder courses through me.
“You can show me what a good girl you are.” He opens his crimson robe and reaches for his pants. “With your mouth.”
My gorge rises, but I force it back down. I will do what I have to do. I blink, and a tear rolls down my cheek.
“Perfect.” He unzips his pants, and I close my eyes.
Chapter 16
Noah
I hurtle out of the Temple and into the night. A light drizzle floats down and coats everything in misery as I hurry to my car. The white bus has barely pulled away when I tear off after it, then take a left as it turns toward the Cloister to the right.
Blinking, I see Delilah on her knees, her teary eyes locking with mine for only a second before my father takes her attention again.
Fuck. I screech to a halt next to the small white church, gravel flying from under my tires. Jumping out of my car, I rush up the stairs. The usual guard is on duty and pays me no attention as I barrel through the double doors into the bedrooms. A few girls give me tired looks, then return to chatting. Only a couple of them are working, their fake moans floating around me like cheap perfume.
I hurry past to the door at the end of the center aisle, giving zero fucks when one of them screeches at me, “You can’t go in there!”
Jez’s door handle doesn’t yield when I turn it, so I bang on the hollow wood, demanding she open up.
“The fuck?” she squawks, and I hear movement.
“I’ll kick it in if you don’t open it by the time I get to five.” I don’t have time for her bullshit. He’s here. He has to be. I’ve searched everywhere on the compound that he could be. I even questioned Castro more this afternoon, though that fucker didn’t give me anything other than an assurance he wasn’t in the main house. Useless. But if Mom didn’t have him squirreled away somewhere, the Chapel is the only spot.
I count down. When I get to five, I take a step back and kick. Right when my foot should bust the door, Jez swings it open.
Topless, and with a bored look, she asks, “Where’s the fire?”
I storm in and slam the door behind me. “He’s here. I know he is.” Despite my rash entrance, I keep my voice down.
“Who?”
I step toward her and glower down into her face.
“I don’t want to hurt you, but I will.”
She snorts a laugh and turns her back to me, showing the cigarette burns that run down her spine in a neat line. “More than Daddy did?” The look she throws over her shoulder is a mix of mocking and sultry, and I want to strangle her.
“Hand him over. Now.”
“Nothing but girls here, baby.” She twirls her index finger in a circular motion. “This is a cathouse. No boys allowed unless they’re paying.”
I push past her and peer inside her bedroom. Nothing there. Nowhere to hide a grown man, anyway. When I turn, I see another one of the Chapel girls lounging on one of the gold chairs. Babylon, I think is her name.
“She wasn’t there before.” I point at her. “You. Where’d you come from?”
“I’ve been here the whole time.” She spreads her legs, the tiny scrap of lace meant to cover her pussy revealing everything except the spot where the baby comes out. “Want to see more of me?”
“No, I want to know where my brother is.” I look up at the leaves, two colorful birds staring back down at me, silent as always.
“We don’t know.” Jez grabs a short robe from the rack of clothes just inside her bedroom and throws it on. “Haven’t seen him. Guards have already searched us twice.”
I hear a quiet thump, and sharply turn my head toward the wide stained glass window at the back of the church.
Babylon kicks one of her feet down to the floor, making a similar sound. “Let’s go out to my room. Get a few other girls.” She stands and struts to me, her hands grasping the front of my shirt. “We can have a good time.”
Another thump, this one definitely coming from the baptistry.
“Lay off.” I push past her and walk around the edge of the wide planter, the dark dirt covered with trailing vines and lush greenery. “You have him here. Somewhere.” Peering down, I see a smaller concrete planter that is slightly off-kilter.
“I told you. We’ve been searched already.” Jez approaches, tension rolling off her.
“No.” I hold up a hand. “Stay back.” Grabbing the planter, I yank it away. Dirt spills over the side, and some of it cascades down the blue-green stairs that lead down into a narrow well—what’s left of the old baptistry.
“Noah, come on.” Jez’s voice has risen an octave. “There’s nothing back there but fertilizer for the plants. Let us show you—”
“Fuck off.” I drop down the stairs and feel along the back of the wooden structure that supports the garden above. A pile of goodies lies to the side, all sorts of contraband that would result in a one-way ticket to the punishment circle. “Naughty girls.” I cluck my tongue and pull on one of the wooden cross slats. It comes away with ease and reveals a pine box hidden behind it.
“Noah, I’m warning you.” Jez has disappeared, her voice coming from the main sitting area.
“If you’re going for a gun, I hope you’ve got a silencer for it. Otherwise, if you fire a shot, the guard will be on you faster than a chigger on a nut-sack.”
“Faster than a what?” Babylon mutters.
I grab one end of the box and yank.
“Fuck!” Definitely Adam’s voice, though it’s muffled.
A wound-up coil of tension lets go inside me, and I feel like I can finally take a deep breath for the first time in days. My brother is alive. I can’t stop the grin that spreads over my face and seems to reach all the way down to my toes. With another yank, I have the box far enough out that I can open the lid.
I pull it up and slide it back. “Morning, sunshine.”
“It’s about fucking time.” He blinks up at me, looking beat up, worn out, a little pissed off and a lot relieved.
“Nice to see you, too.”
He sits up with a grimace. His hands are wrapped with clean, white bandages. But there’s something wrong with his foot.
“What’s that about?” I jerk my chin at the bandaged foot.
“Lost some toes. Frostbite.”
“Seriously?”
“I don’t joke about losing appendages.”
The sheer ridiculousness of his words hits me right in the funny bone, and I snort. He smiles, too, and I pull him to me in a hard hug.
I’m not crying. That’s not what I’d do. Ever. Happy tears aren’t a thing for me. But my eyes are tingling, and I can’t seem to stop squeezing the shit out of him.
“It’s all right.” He pats me on the back awkwardly with his injured hands. “I’m okay, Noah.”
I take a deep breath, though it hitches a few times, and let him go. After a quick swipe at my (super dry) eyes, I give him another once-over. “You able to walk?”
“Yeah. It’s weird, but I can still feel my toes.”
“All of them are gone? I can’t believe that.” I stare at the bandages.
“Just two. Pinky and the one next to it. I’ll be able to walk fine.”
“That’s not so bad, then. I guess.” I shrug. It’s still super bad, but there’s no point freaking out about it.
“Get me out of here.” He dusts off his too-big white t-shirt—must be whatever the Chapel had on hand.
I help him down. “Jesus, you still weigh a goddamn ton.”
“It’s all in the cock.”
I snort again.
“So glad this has been a heartwarming reunion.” Jez stands at the head of the stairs, a long hunting knife in her hand. “But Noah, you need to be going.”
“I’m not going anywhere without him.” I throw Adam’s arm over my shoulders and help him toward the stairs. “So you might as well back the fuck off.”
“He’s ours.” She moves away so I can get by and sit Adam on the sofa.
He rubs the wood dust from his hair. “I can’t stay here forever, Jez. Someone will find me eventually.”
She waves the knife, coming closer. “You leave when I say. And I don’t say.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.” I hold up my hands.
“That’s novel, coming from a Monroe.” She smirks and points at me. “Just leave.”
“Nope.”
Adam sighs. “Jez, you have to let me go. If I’m found here, they’ll kill you and maybe all the girls up there. That’s how my father is. Scorched earth. You know this.”
“I’m willing to take that chance. I took you. You’re mine. Chastity has plans.”
“Chastity?” I picture the nice Spinner, the one with the scar. “She’s a part of this?”
“She’s the head of this.” Jez says it with pride. “I know you two think you’ve got some way to overthrow the Prophet, but we’ve got this on lock. You just need to sit back and let us handle it. In any case, Adam stays here.”
Adam turns to me. “They plan to blow the church up during Sunday service.”
My jaw literally drops, and I look at Jez like she’s a stranger. “Have you lost your fucking mind?”
“No. As I explained to your brother, this is the only way.”
“It’s the crazy way, sure.” I stare at her, looking for some crack in her resolve. There is none. She believes in what she’s saying. Fuuuuuck.
There’s no reasoning with her, but there’s no way I’m leaving my brother behind. Not again. “Look, if you want to come at me with that pig sticker, go ahead, but I’m taking Adam.”
“And how do you expect to get out without them seeing you, genius?” She points the tip of the knife toward the camera in the ceiling.
I lunge at her. Caught off guard, she tries to swing the blade down at me, but I have her wrist.
“Get off!” She shoves me with her other hand, but I keep my grip on her and increase the pressure.
“Drop it.” I haven’t used all my strength on her, but I will if I have to. “This was never going to work, okay? Just drop it.”
“Fuck you.” Her knee to my crotch makes an agonizing impression, and I feel my lunch creeping up my throat at the peculiar pain that must be what dying feels like.
Letting go of her wrist, I fall back, both hands reaching for t
he damage between my legs. She springs toward me, but Adam throws himself off the couch and topples over onto her. Shit, with a knife between them, nothing good is about to happen.
I can’t breathe. Not yet. The goods hurt too bad. But I push forward onto my knees. Adam has her wrist pinned with both of his bandaged hands, but she’s trying to gouge his eye.
Scooting forward, I pry the knife from her, then yank Adam back.
He groans and presses his fingers next to his eye. “Goddammit!”
She scrabbles back until she bumps into one of her ridiculous chairs. “Shit.”
I finally gasp in a breath, though I suspect my balls may be lodged in my throat for the foreseeable future.
“Jez, you know that wasn’t a fair play.” He points at my crotch.
“Fuck your fair.” She eyes the knife in my hand.
“Come and get it.” My voice has a wobble to it, but I finally get to my feet.
“This doesn’t change anything.” She rubs her reddening forehead. Adam must have gotten in a headbutt.
“I’m taking him. That’s final. If you rat me out, I’ll rat you out, and around and around we go.” I pull Adam to his feet. He’s winded, and his color seems more off than it did only minutes ago. I worry he’ll pass out before we even get out the door.
Turning to Jez, I ask, “You have a back way out of here?”
She crosses her arms over her stomach and mean mugs at me. No help there.
“You know, if we get caught leaving here, you’ll be in trouble, too.”
“That’s a chance I’m willing to take. Chastity has my back.” She hasn’t lost her swagger. “Who has yours?”
“Fuck.” I walk past her and into her room. There’s no “exit” sign pointing to a door, just more stained glass and wood paneling. Maybe I haven’t thought this through all the way. Actually, I’m sure I haven’t. Thinking things through isn’t, strictly speaking, my strong suit. Turning again, I stop and stare at the rack of clothes that serves as Jez’s closet.