5
Isabelle
I initiate the Rite.
The words echo, like earlier tonight.
She’s not yours to break.
I reach for the edge of the chair closest to me because my knees threaten to buckle. My mind works frantically.
My brother’s ruddy complexion has gone crimson. And I understand why I’m here. Why it was necessary for me to be brought here. Because Councilor Hildebrand or any of the Councilors wouldn’t ever deign to talk to me. A mere woman. A half-woman in their eyes since only one parent was a member of their precious Society.
This man, the stranger from the chapel, has just initiated The Rite. An ancient, archaic, non-sensical law within The Society. A power bestowed on a trusted friend. A godparent relationship almost. One party taking custody of another, a minor in a normal-world sense. But within IVI’s convoluted laws, it means taking custody of a child or a woman—no matter her age. Because each household needs a male head. That’s why it was so easy for Carlton to take guardianship of me, although I was a minor then. But my family was all gone. There was no one. And once it was determined that I was a Bishop, it gave IVI rights over me.
Or maybe I allowed it. But those were dark days. I was sixteen. My brother had just been murdered before my eyes. I’d been left for dead.
Now though? I’m nineteen years old. An adult.
But we don’t live in the normal world. And these men do not play by normal rules.
“You cannot initiate the Rite,” Carlton spits, taking up the sheets of ancient looking parchment that seem as though they may disintegrate in his hands. He scans the text.
“I can. I just did,” my horned devil of earlier says.
I force my knees to lock, wipe my sweaty palms on the feathers of my dress. They’re still damp from the rain.
It’s quiet while Carlton reads whatever is on those sheets of paper. “Councilor, this is unacceptable. I don’t know what lies St. James has told you, but I can assure you they are only that!” He’s on his feet, pages clutched in his fists.
“You tear that, and you’ll be answering to the entire Tribunal. It is an official document. It will be treated as such.” Hildebrand takes a breath. “And you’ll be grateful it’s all he has asked for. It is his right. And you are the only one to blame for giving it to him.”
Carlton purses his lips.
My devil looks at me, eyes unreadable, mouth unsmiling. He hates my brother. I know that without a doubt. He abhors him. I shudder as his gaze seems to settle deep under my skin. It takes all I have to remain upright as I wonder if he hates me too, if only for my name, the blood I share with Carlton.
“Dex,” he says, eyes still on me.
The door behind me opens. I step deeper into the room to put space between myself and Dex.
“Sir,” Dex says, unbothered by the palpable tension in the room.
“Take the girl downstairs.”
Downstairs? We’re already on the ground floor.
Dex nods and when I glance at him, he gestures for me to move.
I don’t. I can’t. My mouth opens and closes but nothing comes out. My brother is reading through those sheets of paper for the second or third time but the rest of them are watching me. Will Carlton save me? I’m not sure he could if he wanted to. For the Tribunal to be here means this man, my devil, has their blessing to do what he’s about to do. And Carlton will bend to IVI law.
My gaze shifts to the stranger who gives an almost imperceptible nod. Dex wraps a hand around my arm.
“Wait!” I cry out as he tugs me toward the door.
They all look at me. The one who hasn’t spoken, who looks so much like my devil I’d guess they were brothers, casually sips his drink, and watches the scene. I can’t read his expression. Can’t tell what he’s thinking.
My mouth and throat are dry. I lick my lips as I force myself to look at my devil. He’s the one making the decisions here. He’s the one dictating what happens. But what do I say?
When I am silent, he raises his eyebrows.