The Ritual

I bite my bottom lip. “How many have you buried here?”

Stopping again, he shoves the tip into the ground and places his forearm on it, using it for support. I can see a small shine on his forehead where he’s started to sweat from the work. “Seven.”

I swallow and nod my head. “How many of them were Lords?”

“About half.”

Why would he kill someone who isn’t a Lord? Was he ordered to kill them? I know the guy who was trying to kill me wasn’t a Lord, and he slit his throat. So, that’s at least one that I know of. If that guy was brought back and buried here. “How many of those were women?” I wonder.

“This is the first. Any more questions?” he asks, arching a dark brow, and I shake my head.

I understand he’s tired. I’m fucking exhausted. It’s been a long night, and after what he did to me in that underground bunker, I want to go to bed. But I didn’t want to stay at the cabin alone, not after what Cindy told us. Even now, I feel like someone is watching us. But I won’t tell Ryat that. I don’t want him to worry or, worse, think I can’t handle this life.

Finishing up, he tosses the shovel to the side and rolls the wrapped body into the grave. Then he picks up the shovel again, covering it up.

I stand silently, rocking back and forth, arms crossed over my chest, trying to keep warm. Before we left, I put on a pair of yoga pants, tennis shoes and one of his hoodies.

Once finished, he throws the shovel over his shoulder, and silently, we start to walk back toward the cathedral and to his SUV. But he surprises me when he opens a back door to the building and pulls me inside.

We walk down a hallway to a door that he shoves open. It’s an office of some sort. He tosses the dirty shovel to the floor and turns to face me.

“What are we …?”

The door opening behind me makes me jump, my heart starts pounding in my chest, and I squeal when I see Gunner pop his head in.

“We’re ready,” he says cheerfully.

Ryat nods. “Thanks.”

Gunner steps inside, places a box on the floor, and then just stands there, staring at me. My wide eyes go to Ryat. “What’s going on?” I ask him.

Stepping into me, he cups my face with his dirt-covered hands and licks his lips. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” I say without hesitation even though my body shakes with nervousness. Is this another test? What if I fail?

His eyes search mine. “I need you to go with Gunner.”

“What?” I shriek. “No, Ryat …”

“Trust me, Blake.” He nods to me. “I need you to go with Gunner.”

My stomach is in knots, and my mind runs a hundred miles with all these different scenarios of what is about to happen. Why does he want to get rid of me? Have I not proven that I can stomach what he does? What a Lady is required to do?

“Okay,” I whisper, knowing there’s no fighting with him. And I wasn’t lying. I do trust him. If he wants me to go with Gunner, then that’s what I’ll do.

He leans in and tenderly kisses my forehead, then he takes a step back. His hands drop to his sides, and I turn, giving him my back, and follow Gunner out of the room.

I stay silent while I follow him down the hall and to a new door. This cathedral is large, but I’ve walked this hallway before. Last time, I was dripping wet, and my hands were cuffed behind my back.

Coming to a stop, Gunner pushes open a door. “Ladies first.” He gestures for me to go.

As I step into the room, my body goes rigid when I see pews filled with Lords. They’re all dressed in cloaks and masks while they sit silently. They must have arrived while we were out in the cemetery because when we got here, the parking lot was empty. It took Ryat a good hour to bury her. Maybe even longer than that. All I know is I’m glad it’s warmer in here than it was outside.

Gunner takes my hand and forces my heavy legs to walk to the first pew. There’s already an empty seat on the end, closest to the aisle. I fall down into it and look up at him, expecting him to tell me something that will help me out with what’s going on, but instead, he gives me his back and walks back out the side door, leaving me alone.

My legs start to bounce, and I nervously fiddle with my wedding ring when I hear commotion on the second-story balcony. I look up and see two men dressed in cloaks and masks dragging a woman into the center, where I see a chair already sitting right at the edge of the baptism pool.