The Church (The Cloister Trilogy 3)
“My children.” The Prophet smiles, though he seems aged somehow, worn thin. His forehead more wrinkled, the lines next to his eyes darker. Maybe I’m not the only one losing sleep over Adam.
The Spinners bring in the trays of poisoned food and set them amongst us before walking out and closing the doors behind them.
“I’m so pleased to have each of you. Eat, drink, enjoy yourselves. Be as children. ‘Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.’” He gestures toward the food. “Eat, my loves. Tonight we shall delight in the love of the Lord.”
I grab a grape, pretend to eat it, then reach for another, all the while keeping the same one in my palm. The other Maidens take the wine, drinking and eating with abandon. I understand why. The drugs give a reprieve from this place. Even if it leaves you open and empty in the end, it’s still better than the cutting touch of reality.
“We’ve had our trials, difficult times, and disappointments. But, tonight, I feel that we are on the correct path. Here with you lovely angels, I don’t know of anything that can stop Heavenly from spreading God’s word to all those who need to hear it.” He smiles, his beady eyes devouring all the Maidens before him.
I saw a movie once where a mummy would suck the souls of the people he killed until they dried up and blew away. The Prophet reminds me of that, the way he hungrily surveys the women before him, as if he wants to steal every bit of youth and heart and soul from each of us.
“Come, little one.” He motions to Hannah. “Sit with me and share your perfect innocence for just a moment.”
She stands, her posture bent, the drugs not in full effect yet, and sits next to him. He pulls her close to his side and whispers in her ear. She doesn’t react, her eyes downcast. It’s hard to square her with the girl who almost escaped with Sarah, Eve, Chastity, and me. What we did took guts, and perhaps it was a stupid attempt, but Hannah saw her chance and took it. Now, she’s empty. Whatever light she had in her has been extinguished, and I wonder if it will ever shine again.
The price for our freedom was too dear. We paid, and Sarah most of all. A hot needle pierces my heart when I think of her, how strong she’d been to even dream of finding a way out. I hope I can make her proud somehow, even if I don’t possess but a fraction of her courage.
The Maidens next to me giggle and paw at each other as Hannah leaves the throne and settles onto her royal-blue pillow. She grabs a handful of grapes and eats them.
“Delilah.” The Prophet’s gaze finds me, and he motions me up to his dais.
I thought I’d have more time. I don’t. I stand and walk to him, sitting on the crimson cushion as he wraps his arm around me.
His hand is dry and leathery as he squeezes my upper arm. “And how is my fallen angel enjoying her feast?”
My stomach churns and the desperate urge to run whispers up and down my spine.
“Doesn’t matter.” He grins. “The drugs will make you have a good time whether you want to or not.” His hand moves up and over my shoulder, his fingertips reaching for my nipple. “There’s one thing I regret, you know?”
I swallow, trying to keep my bile in check. “What’s that?”
“I wished I’d asked Adam—before I had him nailed to the cross—what your pussy felt like.”
My shoulders tense, but his hand clamps down on me, and he brings his other around to my stomach. I clench my legs together.
“Don’t be like that.” He draws his fingers over my skin, moving lower as I scream inside my head. “You gave it to Adam. Why not share it with me?” His fingers stop. “Though I hate to say that your senator has insisted that you not be spoiled any more than you already are.” He strokes lower, his fingers invading the sensitive skin between my thighs.
My eyes water. I want to tell him to stop, but I know that will only make it worse. He doesn’t violate me completely, his fingers skirting along the bare skin, but it’s enough. It’s enough that I want to vomit, to run, to scream.
“So soft and pale.” He removes his hand and grabs my breast with it, squeezing hard. “How did something so fragile ruin my firstborn son?” The edge in his voice grows jagged. “How did you, a worthless piece of ass, cause his downfall?” Pinching my nipple, he twists it then lets go.
I draw in a shaking breath as his hold on my shoulder loosens.