The Church (The Cloister Trilogy 3)

“I want him found today!” He fumbles for his cross-shaped box of white powder. “This is a disgrace. An affront to me, to the Lord, to the Father of Fire. Whoever took him will be up on the cross next to him.” He points at me. “Do you understand? I want that traitor found and nailed up like the thief he is. No mercy for him. No mercy for anyone who seeks to undermine my will. I am the Prophet of the Lord!”

It’s amazing to me that I believed in him for as long as I did. Watching him now—an old man, unhinged and addicted—I can’t link him to the all-powerful Prophet that I thought he was. Instead, he’s a decrepit monster, one who preys on young, hopeful women, with big dreams and bright eyes. What’s worse, I’ve been a part of it all along. I may not have killed Georgia, but I didn’t stop all the bad things from happening to her. I could have saved her a million times over, but I never did. Because I was a fool. Because I believed that this broken down man in front of me, snorting cocaine with a practiced sniff, was holy. Now I know that, if anything, he’s evil incarnate.

Maybe my hatred shows on my face, because he narrows his eyes at me. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m not looking at you like anything. Just thinking about all the discipline my new Maiden requires.”

His face sours even more. “That bitch is a fucking pestilence. Nothing but trouble from the moment she got here. Ruined my son. Tried to ruin this deal with the senator. What was she on about last night? I saw her hit you. But you got her in line eventually.” He points at me. “A firm hand Noah. No leash for that one. She has to be ready for her post. The senator is too important.”

“I can’t believe he still wants her.”

“He does, but he’s a fool for it. She’ll poison him the same way she did Adam if we don’t get her under control.” He finishes his coke communion, then leans back, his mood growing lighter. “But I’ve got her under my thumb now. She’ll fall in line.”

“How’d you manage that?”

“I found her pressure point.”

I swallow hard—anything he does to her is going to complicate things for me. I promised Adam I’d look out for her. Do I see a way to do that? No. Not right now, but a promise is a promise.

“I have her mother over at the Rectory.” An easy smile takes over as the coke hits his bloodstream. “Leverage.”

Complication? Check.

I stand and stretch. “Well, it’s time for my visit. I’ll see if she’s more inclined to be a good girl.”

“No marks,” he warns. “Now that she’s damaged, we need to keep her as clean as we can for Senator Roberts. He’s not too happy with the delay, so we need to mitigate that with other things. No marks …” He taps his fingers on the desk. “And don’t fuck her in the ass. I don’t want any evidence that she’s been touched more than she has been already.”

I feign outrage. “But Dad, if I can’t—”

“I said no.” His voice remains gentle, as if he knows what a crushing blow this is to me. “But you can still have her suck your cock. That doesn’t leave a mark.”

I sigh. “I guess I’ll have to live with that.”

“That’s a good boy.” He nods. “You always were my favorite, you know?”

His favorite because I’m dumb and gullible. Yeah, I know. “Thanks, Dad. I’ll get to it, if that’s all right with you?”

“A firm hand, don’t forget.” He waves me away.

“Yes, sir.” I stride out and head down to the basement, my body loosening with each step. Just being near him bunches my muscles, twists them until it almost feels like a cramp.

“Hey.” Castro follows me down the steps.

Shit. I don’t know what he wants, but it can’t be anything good. Then again, maybe he knows where Adam is?

“Outside.” He pushes through the back door near the bar, and we step out into the cold night.

“What?” I keep my voice down and lean against the brick wall.

“Your mother has a message for you.” He pulls a pack of cigs from his pocket and offers me one.

I shake my head. I love my nicotine, but I have standards about who I’ll share a smoke with. “What’s the message?”

He takes a long drag. “She knows where Adam is.”

“She took him?”

“No.” He blows the smoke up until it forms a plume above his head, a comic bubble over an idiot character. “But we know who did. He’s on the compound.”

“Where?”

“That’s not important. What you need to know is that the plan is still on. Everything will be in place for a smooth transition. Now that Adam is safe—pendejo.” He spits, then continues, “Rachel still wants him to lead. But, if he can’t, she’ll make you the new Prophet. Either way, the old Prophet will be gone, and she will be in charge. Understand?”