Requiem of the Soul (The Society Trilogy 1)

“Gentlemen, this is my sister Ivy.”

I’m surprised he doesn’t distinguish himself from me. We’re half siblings and not full blood. Something he usually takes comfort in, if not pride.

The men nod. One of them sweeps his gaze over me, and I wish I’d eaten something so I could throw it up on his thousand-dollar shoes.

“We’re behind schedule,” the one without the ring says.

My brother nods and, without introducing the men to me—not that I care—we walk inside, the men in front of me, Abel behind, me in the middle. A prisoner marched to her execution.

I barely notice the surroundings as I’m led through the large living space. An older woman sits reading a magazine. She only spares me a momentary glance. Across from her is a younger woman. She looks familiar, but half her face is hidden behind her magazine so I can only see her eyes. She tracks me as we cross the room, and a housekeeper enters, carrying coffee on a silver tray.

Do these women know what’s about to happen?

“It’s rude to stare,” the older woman says to the younger one, her voice low.

I guess the younger one is her daughter because her face is now fully hidden behind the magazine.

I’m led from the main room to a corridor lined with doors. When we reach the last door, the man without the ring opens it, and the scent of antiseptic assaults my senses. This must be his office. Is he a real doctor? Or some freak employed by The Society to run these “tests”?

He gestures for us to enter.

When I hesitate, Abel places a hand at my back and urges me inside.

The man closes the door. There’s no lock, I notice. I guess I’m free to go. But if I do, will they bring Evangeline here in my place? The thought is sickening, but looking at these men, the fat one with the ring who takes a seat on the couch across from the examining table looks far too eager, and I’m pretty sure he’d have no problem with the idea.

The room is average size and more brightly lit than the living space which was cozier. This has more functional lighting. A large desk is centered against the far wall. A sitting area against another and an examining table opposite it. There’s a privacy screen in the corner of the sitting area.

“Ivy,” the man without the ring says. He gestures to the single, simple wooden chair facing his desk. “Have a seat.”

I do, and Abel stands behind me, hands on my shoulders as if he’d keep me down if I tried to run.

“I’m Dr. Chambers.”

Chambers?

As in Maria Chambers’ father? I think back to the girl who used to torment me. And I realize why the one in the living room seemed familiar. It was the gleam in her otherwise unremarkable eyes. The wickedness inside them.

She was staring because she knew exactly what would happen here. What they would do to me.

I swallow, feeling hot. I’m glad I’m sitting down because I think I’d fall otherwise.

“Your brother has explained the requirement, I’m sure, but I’d like to go through it to be sure you are here of your own choice.”

“My choice?”

Abel squeezes my shoulders.

Dr. Chambers clears his throat, ignoring me. This is a sham, and everyone in this room knows it. And they’re all taking pleasure in my torment. Am I surprised? Maria Chambers was a bully at thirteen. She must have learned it somewhere.

“Mr. De La Rosa is a member of one of our founding families. As such, we, of course, hold him in the highest regard, as I’m sure you do.”

The man on the couch snorts in the middle of that sentence.

I glance over but only momentarily.

“I’m sure she does,” Abel answers the doctor.

“You’re a very lucky girl,” Dr. Chambers continues.

I doubt that, I think, but don’t say.

“But as The Society does not force anyone to submit to anything they don’t want to, I want to be certain you’ve asked your brother, as a good and upstanding member, to bring you here so that your purity will be certified, and you will be declared fit for marriage to a man of such stature.”

“Are you serious?”

“Ivy,” Abel says. He’d have more to say, but the doctor holds up his hand.

“This is difficult for our younger ladies. I have a daughter your sister’s age, Abel. I understand, believe me.” He turns his attention to me. “But we should get on with it and not waste anyone’s time. Will you submit to my examination, Ivy?”

“I don’t have a choice.”

Abel fingers dig into my shoulders. “Sister.” There’s a long, weighted pause. “If you prefer, I can take you home now. We have alternatives,” he threatens.

“No,” I say, standing up. “I submit. Let’s get it over with.”

“Very good. There is to be one witness, and Mr. Holton has generously given up his morning to be here in that capacity.”