The Prophet (The Cloister Trilogy 2)

He furrows his brow, but slowly nods. “Yeah.”

“It’s the same delusion all over again. She’s poisoned, just like he is. And they’d rather die from the poison than save themselves.”

He shakes his head. “We can help her. Just hold off on this Tuesday plan and let me talk to her, or talk to Castro. I don’t know. But hold off.”

“I can’t.”

He throws his hands up. “Because of that fairy girl, some random piece of ass?”

My fist flies before I even think about it. Noah staggers back, one hand going to his jaw as he stares at me, eyes wide. I’ve never hit him before. Not like this.

I step toward him. “Noah—”

“Fuck off.” He stands his ground, anger radiating from him.

“Please, I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t fucking touch me!” he yells and puts all his frustration and despair of the last twenty minutes into it.

“Shit.” I hang my head.

He lowers his voice, but the anger still bubbles in each syllable. “You have to call it off. Give Mom a chance. Maybe she can end this without as much bloodshed. She said you could turn the Protectors to work for you. We don’t have to kill them. Maybe she’s right. We—”

“I can’t let Delilah go to that senator. I can’t.” The thought of what he plans to do to her almost brings me to my knees.

“You’d choose her over your own blood?” He stops rubbing his jaw and scowls at me. “Her over me?”

“It’s not like that, and you know it.”

He shakes his head.

“Don’t do this, Noah.” I take another step toward him but he backs up. “We were together on this. I can’t do it without you.”

“No.” He walks backward. “I’m out.”

“Noah!” I rush toward him.

He lets a fist fly, catching me off-guard. I stumble and stop, the pain in my face dulling the ache in my feet.

“You chose wrong, big brother.” He shakes his hand out, then turns and walks away into the gloom.

Chapter 26

Noah

Another crash breaks the stillness of the early morning hour, and I suspect Adam has just destroyed something priceless in his house next door.

I take another drink from my bottle, not even tasting whatever liquor I’ve chosen for the evening’s numbing session.

Felix sits on the ottoman, staring at me as I sit on the couch in the dark. His eyes are just visible in the light from the kitchen, giving a ghostly reflection back if he turns his head just right.

“What?” I ask him and take another swig. “What am I supposed to do?”

He doesn’t answer, just keeps his post.

“Gregory is more useful than you. You know that? And he’s a fucking lizard.” My words are slurred, and I doubt anyone listening in could figure out what the fuck I’m saying, but I’m still present enough to keep my voice down.

Why can’t I just sleep? I smoked up, drank up, and tried for the sweet oblivion of unconsciousness, but it won’t come.

The sound of shattering glass punctures my hazy thoughts. “That sounded expensive.” I chuckle, but not out of anything approaching humor.

“Faith, you know?” I keep talking to Felix, probably because he’s the only one dumb enough to listen to me. “That’s where this all started.” I point toward Adam’s house. “Faith.” I nod, and Felix settles down into what I call the ‘bunny look’, his feet tucked beneath him, his eyes still alert. “I loved that little girl, too, you know? I loved her so much. But I believed, I had to believe, that what happened was God’s plan. Right? Right. Because Dad told me so. And I went along. But Adam, something in him went wrong the day she died. And it’s never going to be right again. You know?”

Felix blinks slowly.

“Before, he’d do what he was told, and wouldn’t bite back. But after her, he became vicious.” I take another long draw, surprised to find the bottle empty. “Fuck.” I toss it away, and it rolls across the rug and under a chair.

Felix follows its trajectory, but doesn’t make a move.

I close my eyes and see golden hair and a warm smile. “Mary. No, Georgia. Georgia was her name.” My heart seems to squeeze to a halt. “She was so…” I flail for the right word. “Sweet. No, that’s not it. She was more than that. Pretty, optimistic, she made things brighter. I even thought about asking Dad if I could make her mine.” I’ve opened the box I keep locked inside me, the one where grief and anger swirl around each other relentlessly. “When she went missing, I lost it. Remember?” I stand and stagger to the kitchen and grab another bottle. “That’s when this shit started. The drinking.”

I plop back in the same spot, and Felix jumps over to me and curls up in my lap. “I figure I’ll keep it going till it kills me. Might as well, right?”