“Wake the fuck up, asshole.” Noah thumps me on the upper arm.
“Do you need a Snickers?” I unbutton my shirt. “You miss your afternoon snack or something?”
“I’m not hangry.” He shrugs. “Okay, maybe a little. But I’m just tired of this shit.”
“Welcome to the club.”
“But we should, you know, follow what Dad says.” His tone loses some of its edge. “He’s the Prophet and all.”
“Still got that faith, huh?” I don’t like to fault my brother much, but that one thing—his misplaced belief in our father—rankles.
“I have to hold onto something, man. Otherwise…”
Otherwise he’d let himself feel the heat around us, see the fires of hell closing in, and smell the scent of our burning flesh. I couldn’t argue with that.
“Let’s get it over with.” We follow Protector Gunn into the sacred circle, my father already flying high on his throne in the middle of the room. His coke habit is out of control. Good. I hope it kills the bastard.
I take my spot and kneel. The other Protectors are already here and in position. Good little lapdogs, each of them. But why wouldn’t they be? They get treats all the time, fresh young girls in white, a new one each year.
“Why are you looking at me like that, son?” My father glowers at me.
I didn’t realize I’d been looking at him at all. My subconscious probably had me staring daggers. “No offense intended.”
“None intended, huh? Is that right?” Belligerence lives in his voice. “Well, I took offense. What do you have to say about that?”
Noah rocks forward. “Dad—”
“I’m not talking to you, Noah. I’m talking to the son-of-a-bitch you call your brother.”
My fingers curl into fists as he says it, and I know Noah is just as angry as I am. Our mother is the gentlest soul on this godforsaken Compound. And she’s paid dearly for it.
The doors open, and Grace struts in, her gaze glancing off me before landing on my father. “We are here for your blessing, Prophet.” She even does a little curtsey.
“We’ll finish this later.” My father’s icy demeanor melts as he turns toward the doors. “Bring them in, by all means.” Now jovial, he opens his arms in welcome. A spider welcomes the fly with the most perfect of manners.
The girls walk in, already stripped bare. I search through them to find my little lamb. So pale, she’s striking even in the midst of a dozen other beauties. They’re warier this time, but sit in front of my father as instructed.
When the Spinners bring the poisoned food, only one among them reaches for the fruit. Delilah looks at me with wide eyes. She’ll try to resist, but it won’t work. The Spinners starved them today to ensure a good audience with my father. They will eat, because they have no choice.
“My darling Maidens.” My father stands and walks among them. “I welcome you here once again for our weekly congress. How I’ve missed you all.”
He sits next to one with dark hair, bruises darkening the light brown skin on one cheek. “You are blessed among women. What’s your name, child?”
She remains still, her face impassive. “Sarah.” No inflection in her tone, but something in her eyes tells me she’s a bit cagier than the others.
“Lovely Sarah.” He strokes down her arm, then cups her breast. “I’ve been waiting for you. And you are safe here with me. Always.” He rubs his thumb over her nipple, and her expression hardens even more, an impenetrable shell. “Now, eat.”
She finally looks him in the eye, then gives a slight shake of her head.
“Oh, shit,” Noah breathes. “Oh shit.”
“He won’t do it here.” I watch as my father’s mask remains in place. He reaches for a plate of grapes and plucks one, then forces it between her lips and into her mouth.
A single tear rolls down her cheek as my father waits for her to chew and swallow. When it’s done, he releases her and turns to the other Maidens. “Eat and drink. It is my gift to you. I love each and every one of you. Everything about you is holy to me. Your beauty—” He rises and continues to walk among them “—your grace, your perfect obedience.”
They all eat and drink, giving in to their hunger and the sheer power that the Prophet wields over them. Even Delilah succumbs, her eyelids growing heavy as the LSD seeps into her bloodstream and clouds her mind. She lies back on the pillows, her gaze focused on the gilded upside down cross above the throne. A symbol of our obedience to the Father of Fire, the emblem glitters in the low light.
Noah leans toward me. “Is he going to pick one this time?”
“He already has.” I watch the dark-haired girl who’d denied my father. Her fate is sealed.
The Prophet stalks among them, then sits again, a Maiden on either side of him.