Ha, practical. Yeah, that was it. My wanting to work with him instead of against him had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that it likely meant getting my body underneath his again and feeling him inside me. Again and again and again if what I’d heard about these Trials was true in even the smallest measure.
So, I squeezed Rafe’s hand and arched an eyebrow of my own. “I’m in if you are.”
Rafe took a deep breath, his large chest expanding outwards. But then he let it out in a huge whoosh of air and nodded. “Fine. I’m in, too. You, Fallon Perry, are my belle.”
And then, more under his breath as Mama H beamed at us, I didn’t miss his following murmur: “God have mercy on us both.”
7
Rafe
“Oh death, oh death, oh death,” an Elder chanted as we all filed outside the Oleander Manor to the large wraparound porch.
Candles were lit, adding to the fiery light put out by the hanging gas lanterns. Glass bottles of various colors dangled from the awning, and I wouldn’t be a true Southern boy if I didn’t know that their purpose was to chase away the spirits of the night. Fireflies flickered in the thick and sticky air of the night. An owl hooted in the distance as if warning me to run as fast as I could away from what would occur this night.
Elders in their silver cloaks lined up near the large entryway and the members flanked behind us. Both Fallon and I awaited what would come next with bated breath.
The Elder continued on with his chant. “We ask you dubious haints to leave the Oleander. Cross over to the other side and not enter our dwellings.”
I watched the Elders raise their palms to the covered porch they stood beneath and point to the arched architecture.
“We paint our entrance blue to chase the haints away. But tonight, since we are sure there is one particular ghost haunting us now, we offer the belle to be covered in haint blue. This is our offering to you.” The Elder spoke as if we were surrounded by our deceased ancestors and they were all listening.
Chills ran through me as I reached for Fallon’s hand, only to have her pull away from it.
I noticed the cans of paint surrounding the Elders and tried to figure out exactly what was about to occur. The entryway was already painted haint blue and had been for centuries as was tradition. So why the paint? And why so much?
“Fallon Perry. You are to stand beneath the blue to help us chase away the spirit of Rafe’s older brother. He’s here. His haint is here taunting us, and it’s our job to chase him away. We’ll paint your body blue with our hands. Every. Single. Inch. The hands of the man will join as one.”
The words were like a punch to the gut. Rage surged through me. My brother? They were not allowed to talk about my brother! How dare they? How fucking dare—
My fury came to a screeching halt when Fallon began to move forward.
“Absolutely not,” I said under my breath, grabbing her by the arm and tugging her back toward me harshly.
Fallon’s breath hitched, but she yanked her arm away from my grip and took a step away from me. “I got this. Don’t you dare fuck this up.”
“You’re not a whore,” I hissed. “You shouldn’t let them touch you. You aren’t a goddamn whore.”
Her head snapped in my direction and daggers shot from her eyes. “Exactly!”
She moved toward the entryway by the front door and stood with her chin held high and shoulders back. She stood naked with the light from the gas lanterns reflecting off her flawless skin.
I closed my eyes briefly wondering if I could just block out all that was about to occur. I didn’t want to watch this. I couldn’t. No way could I just stand back and let these wrinkled dicks touch her.
But when I opened my eyes, I saw her staring at me. Silently telling me to remain where I was.
“Let the Trial begin,” an Elder declared, hitting his cane hard on the planked porch. “Chase the haints away!”
Cans of paint were lined up on the porch beckoning, and several members of the Order dipped their hand into the blue, approached Fallon as if she were a blank canvas, and began painting her with their caresses. Hands groped her, hands invaded, hands touched and stained her skin with their sins. Blue-covered hands slapped her bare ass, leaving behind blue handprints. Some stroked her pussy; others rubbed her breasts as if she were nothing but a statue.
Fallon remained in place, emotionless, blank.
Her glare was locked with mine, and her defiance challenged my rage.
How could she?
Why would she?
And why would I just stand here and watch as these men violated her body with their touch?