The Maiden (The Cloister Trilogy 1)

Nothing crosses her features to give her away. A blank slate, or perhaps a mirror reflecting back nothing more than what it sees. Slowly, she lowers her gaze back to her folded hands.

“I’m telling you there’s something off about yours.” Noah elbows me.

“She’s just another stupid fly caught in our father’s web.” I shrug off his words, though of course, I silently agree with him. “Let’s go give that shit-talking cop a surprise.”

My fist vibrates as it crunches into Davis’s nose. His bones break, mine merely sing a jolly tune as I swing again, this time grinding my knuckles into his eye socket as he screams.

He’s defenseless, though it took a good bit of work to get him this way. He put up a fight when Noah and I pushed him into the back of a Heavenly Mercedes.

“You can’t manhandle me like this.” He fumed in the backseat.

I held up his service pistol. “I suggest you shut the fuck up.”

“Your father won’t let you—”

I chambered a round, the action smooth and as natural as breathing to me. “The more you say, the worse it’s going to get for you. Besides, I suspect you’ve already said enough. When was the last meetup, Noah?”

“Two nights ago, at his house. He had a handful of other deacons over.”

I turned around and grinned at him as he blanched.

“H-how did you—”

I tapped the side of the barrel to my temple. “Psychic.”

We’d taken him to a gravel circle on the backside of the property, the one with the three sturdy crosses on one side. No one would hear us. And Davis would have nowhere to run.

He’d been a challenge at first, all swinging fists and aggression. I let him wear himself out, then went in for the kill, tackling him to the ground. Once I had him pinned, I went to work. Noah began recording with his phone as Davis’s blood coated my knuckles, his cries rising into the night air but never making it to God’s ears.

Each hit sends a jolt of satisfaction through me. Something akin to arousal. And I know it’s fucked up and wrong, but pure violence is one of the only things that can make me feel alive. My thoughts flicker to Delilah. Something new there. She gives me a taste of what I’m feeling now, too. Adrenaline, pleasure, and the primal need to dominate.

“Adam!” Noah shoves my shoulder, and I realize he’s been calling my name for a while. He points to the crosses. “Should we …”

“No. This is enough.” I stand and shake some of the blood off my fists, then address the camera. “Davis will live… This time.” I kick him in the ribs.

He howls and curls into the fetal position. Blood oozes from his mouth in a long string of crimson.

“Unless you’re even dumber than I think, you’ll see that this is a warning. We know who you are. We know your wives and your children. You have a nice house? It can be gone just like that.” I snap my fingers. “Do you think your wife will stay with you if the Prophet casts you out? Think again. Do you think Judge Proctor—who never misses a Sunday—will grant you custody of your children when your wife leaves you for another man who is obedient to the Prophet?” I turn back to Davis and drop down on my haunches. “You understand, don’t you Davis?”

When he doesn’t respond, I grab a handful of his blond hair and yank his bloodied head back. “I said, do you understand?”

“Yes!” A red bubble pops on his lips as he screams the correct answer.

“Good.” I rise and pull a handkerchief from my pocket to wipe my hands. “I think we all know the score from here on out.”

Noah stops the recording and pockets his cell phone. We walk to the car in silence, get in, and drive away.

“I’ll send someone to pick him up.” Noah lets out a deep sigh. “I hate doing this.”

I can’t say I hated it. The ache in my knuckles reminds me I’m on top. I’m the one walking away from that scrap without a drop of my own blood spilled. “Davis should have known better. Disobedience has consequences.” That is a truth both Noah and I know all too well. A memory of my mother howling in pain threatens to surface, but I drown it, pushing it beneath the dark waters until nothing ripples along my surface.

“Right.” He drums his palm on the steering wheel. “I know. Fuck.”

“Drop me at the Cloister.”

He glances at the clock. “Kinda late for that, isn’t it?”

“Just drop me.” I’ve already had my violence for the night. Now I need another type of high. And there is only one person that will do.

Chapter 16

Delilah

He didn’t come. I brush my hair out and stare at myself in the mirror. Why didn’t he come?