Deep Redemption
Page 33
It took me several seconds to understand what she meant. A cold trickle dripped down my spine as I tried to decipher her words. When I understood, that trickle turned into a goddamn flood. “The Hangmen,” I whispered. Phebe nodded her head.
Her hand was shaking. “He said they are to die. All of them—women and men alike. No mercies. He preaches that they are all sinners and defectors from the faith. He claims that the revelation he received ordered we are to leave no sinner alive.”
“He wants revenge.” I sighed in frustration. He wanted revenge for them taking the Curseds from us. For their attack on our old commune. For killing our uncle . . . for fucking breathing. I replayed what Phebe had said . . . He said they are to die. All of them—women and men alike. They are all sinners and defectors from the faith . . .
Women and men alike . . .
He planned to kill Mae, Delilah and Magdalene too . . .
“My sister,” Phebe said almost inaudibly, tears building in her eyes. “He will kill her for her desertion from our order. For fornicating with evil. For the men he lost when the devil’s men came to take her back.”
My blood rushed so fast that my head became light. I tried to think of a way to stop it, to help, but I couldn’t. I was stuck in this fucking cell. I was always stuck in this motherfucking cell!
Phebe seemed to read my face. “It is hopeless, is it not? He cannot be stopped.” Her breathing hitched. “My Rebekah will die . . . ”
“You should run,” I said, so quietly that Harmony wouldn’t hear.
Phebe shook her head.
“Why?” I asked. “Get the hell out of this place somehow. Save yourself.”
She hesitated. “I . . . I need to protect someone. And the man that has me, Meister.” She shook her head. “He will never let me go. I can feel it. He . . . he has become obsessed with me.” Phebe’s tears ran thick and fast. “He scares me so much. It is over for me now.” Phebe finished off wiping my body. “I fear it is over for us all. Everything has changed since this prophet ascended. We can never go back . . .”
Guilt swarmed my stomach. Phebe gathered her things and stood. Just as she was about to leave, she turned back and whispered, “I once thought you the same as him. But now . . . ” Her shoulders dropped. “But now I see that you are not. You share different hearts and souls—one pure, one dark. It is just a shame that darkness always seems to prevail in this world.”
Phebe left the cell, the door slamming shut in her wake. I stayed still where I sat, stunned by her words. But the anger bubbling in my blood built higher and higher. Of late, it was the only emotion I seemed to feel. Pure fury at my twin and everything he was doing.
I returned to the wall. I lay down on my front and crawled to where I would see Harmony again. As soon as our eyes met, her hand pushed through the gap. My fingers wrapped around hers. I closed my eyes and let the solace of her touch calm the rage inside, just for a moment.
We lay in silence, but my head raced. What could I do? How could I stop this? I was still thinking hard when Harmony said, “Rider?”
“Yes?” I replied, opening my eyes.
She squeezed my hand tighter. “It may make me an eternal sinner, but one thought keeps occupying my mind. I keep praying for something that is savage and cruel . . . but I cannot stop.”
“What is it?” I asked in a rough voice.
Harmony took a deep breath. “I pray for death.” My muscles tensed. She wished to die? “For the prophet,” she quickly added, and I stilled. “I pray for Prophet Cain to die. I pray for our freedom from his enforced hurt and pain. And I think that could only happen if our leader died. If his cruel heart was no longer beating.”
I didn’t say anything in response. I didn’t say anything, because I fought with a greater internal war. A greater personal sin.
Because I was starting to pray for that too.
I was praying that Judah would be taken down.
I had started to pray that my own brother would die . . .
. . . and if those thoughts could only come from a sinner’s heart, then a sinner I was.
Chapter Seven
Rider
A week went by. A groundhog day of daily beatings by the disciple guards—and no sign of Judah. The only light was having Harmony beside me. It amazed me how quickly I had come to need her, covet her. Her hand in mine as we talked became the only thing that kept me from giving up.
Each day, Phebe would come to my room. She didn’t speak to me again after her confession. She washed me as instructed, and each day I watched as she grew further and further from the girl I once knew. I watched helplessly as she closed in on herself. Each day brought with it new bruises. And each day she became less and less of the vibrant woman she had once been as the consort to my brother.
Her hand was shaking. “He said they are to die. All of them—women and men alike. No mercies. He preaches that they are all sinners and defectors from the faith. He claims that the revelation he received ordered we are to leave no sinner alive.”
“He wants revenge.” I sighed in frustration. He wanted revenge for them taking the Curseds from us. For their attack on our old commune. For killing our uncle . . . for fucking breathing. I replayed what Phebe had said . . . He said they are to die. All of them—women and men alike. They are all sinners and defectors from the faith . . .
Women and men alike . . .
He planned to kill Mae, Delilah and Magdalene too . . .
“My sister,” Phebe said almost inaudibly, tears building in her eyes. “He will kill her for her desertion from our order. For fornicating with evil. For the men he lost when the devil’s men came to take her back.”
My blood rushed so fast that my head became light. I tried to think of a way to stop it, to help, but I couldn’t. I was stuck in this fucking cell. I was always stuck in this motherfucking cell!
Phebe seemed to read my face. “It is hopeless, is it not? He cannot be stopped.” Her breathing hitched. “My Rebekah will die . . . ”
“You should run,” I said, so quietly that Harmony wouldn’t hear.
Phebe shook her head.
“Why?” I asked. “Get the hell out of this place somehow. Save yourself.”
She hesitated. “I . . . I need to protect someone. And the man that has me, Meister.” She shook her head. “He will never let me go. I can feel it. He . . . he has become obsessed with me.” Phebe’s tears ran thick and fast. “He scares me so much. It is over for me now.” Phebe finished off wiping my body. “I fear it is over for us all. Everything has changed since this prophet ascended. We can never go back . . .”
Guilt swarmed my stomach. Phebe gathered her things and stood. Just as she was about to leave, she turned back and whispered, “I once thought you the same as him. But now . . . ” Her shoulders dropped. “But now I see that you are not. You share different hearts and souls—one pure, one dark. It is just a shame that darkness always seems to prevail in this world.”
Phebe left the cell, the door slamming shut in her wake. I stayed still where I sat, stunned by her words. But the anger bubbling in my blood built higher and higher. Of late, it was the only emotion I seemed to feel. Pure fury at my twin and everything he was doing.
I returned to the wall. I lay down on my front and crawled to where I would see Harmony again. As soon as our eyes met, her hand pushed through the gap. My fingers wrapped around hers. I closed my eyes and let the solace of her touch calm the rage inside, just for a moment.
We lay in silence, but my head raced. What could I do? How could I stop this? I was still thinking hard when Harmony said, “Rider?”
“Yes?” I replied, opening my eyes.
She squeezed my hand tighter. “It may make me an eternal sinner, but one thought keeps occupying my mind. I keep praying for something that is savage and cruel . . . but I cannot stop.”
“What is it?” I asked in a rough voice.
Harmony took a deep breath. “I pray for death.” My muscles tensed. She wished to die? “For the prophet,” she quickly added, and I stilled. “I pray for Prophet Cain to die. I pray for our freedom from his enforced hurt and pain. And I think that could only happen if our leader died. If his cruel heart was no longer beating.”
I didn’t say anything in response. I didn’t say anything, because I fought with a greater internal war. A greater personal sin.
Because I was starting to pray for that too.
I was praying that Judah would be taken down.
I had started to pray that my own brother would die . . .
. . . and if those thoughts could only come from a sinner’s heart, then a sinner I was.
Chapter Seven
Rider
A week went by. A groundhog day of daily beatings by the disciple guards—and no sign of Judah. The only light was having Harmony beside me. It amazed me how quickly I had come to need her, covet her. Her hand in mine as we talked became the only thing that kept me from giving up.
Each day, Phebe would come to my room. She didn’t speak to me again after her confession. She washed me as instructed, and each day I watched as she grew further and further from the girl I once knew. I watched helplessly as she closed in on herself. Each day brought with it new bruises. And each day she became less and less of the vibrant woman she had once been as the consort to my brother.
