“What that means will be explained in the chapel.”

  That had me looking up.

  “The chapel?”

  He ignored my question and continued.

  “You have thirty minutes to clean yourself up and dress in the standard uniform. I’ll send someone for you.”

  “That’s it?” I nearly wept from the overwhelming sensation of not knowing anything.

  He perused me one last time before silently turning around and leaving the room, giving me no other hint as to what was going on.

  He’d told me in a nutshell it had to do with Sam, but didn’t have to do with Sam.

  More evasive words that thoroughly confused me.

  With the slamming of the door and turning of a lock, I was imprisoned on the inside.

  CHAPTER SIX

  FAITH

  I had twenty minutes left.

  I’d wasted ten sitting on the bed replaying everything that had occurred up to this point.

  Stuff like this happened in movies or on television. It happened in fiction. It happened to the girl who’d been abducted from that fucking gas station we should never have stopped at.

  It wasn’t supposed to happen to me.

  None of this even seemed real.

  The soreness setting in between my legs, though, was very real, as was the pain from the hand Ryker had wrapped around my throat.

  My Ryker.

  Squeezing my eyes closed, I reverted to the coping mechanism I’d learned in rehab.

  I silently counted down from six and then slid off the bed. I wanted to wail my battered heart out but I knew my tears were a waste here. I could cry later—as soon as I was back in my own bedroom.

  The question I’d asked myself in the ballroom reminded me that my friends and I didn’t have a remote chance in getting out of this place if we fell apart. I could only hope they’d be in whatever this chapel thing was, unharmed.

  The book sitting on the nightstand captured my attention as I stood up.

  “Ideology Of Malignant,” I read aloud.

  Malignant? Didn’t that stand for sickness or something?

  The book looked very much like a bible, thick and black with shiny gold lettering on the front.

  I picked it up and flipped the hard cover open, only intending to do a quick skim of its contents. My brows clashed together as I read the first four principles.

  Charm is deceptive.

  Beauty is deceitful.

  Freedom is an illusion.

  Survival is subjective.

  What kind of whacked ideology was this?

  As I continued, they began to make a little more sense.

  The book didn’t only look like a bible, it read like one too. Only the religion it was based off seemed more like a cult. The doctrine was simple at first, speaking of grievances and freedom.

  It went a total different direction after that. The segment on confessions turned the doctrine into a worship of murder, torture, and sex that led to the cleansing of one’s soul.

  Those words weren’t outright spelled on the paper but their meaning was clear.

  I told myself to put the damn thing down but my perverse curiosity encouraged me to keep going. I devoured the words with my eyes, my pulse increasing as I took it all in. I felt a compulsion to understand, to know more.

  And then I asked myself, why did I want to know more? What could any of this information do for me in this moment?

  The answer, in my mind at least, was simple. Absolutely nothing.

  I snapped the book shut far before I got to the end, and then practically slammed it into the drawer of the nightstand.

  I wasn’t overtly religious. I believed in God but I also lived a life of sin. The prayer bracelet around my wrist simply served as a reminder to keep going in hard times. It was a sobriety gift from my father.

  What I knew for a fact was that whatever the group was in the damned book, I wanted no part of it. But as I stood there piecing together a skewed puzzle of events, I wasn’t sure I had much of a choice in the matter.

  That book wasn’t left by mistake. The halls were decorated with downturned crosses and morbid paintings, and Ryker had referred to something called the chapel.

  Shaking my head in an effort to clear it, I walked over to a set of thick damask curtains and pulled them apart.

  I was momentarily surprised when sunlight streamed into the room. We were taken a little after eleven. For it to be daytime meant we’d already been here more than a few hours.

  Thoughts of escape were temporarily halted as I took in the sight of rolling green grass and tall trees. The lawn was expansive and perfectly maintained, paths of cobblestone running between it.

  I could see part of the building I was in due to its L shape; it looked more like a massive church than a house. The exterior was made up of weathered off-white stucco and bricks. In the far corner was a tower equipped with what looked like a bell.

  Yet another downturned cross was mounted on top of it.

  I was almost positive wherever I was it couldn’t be anywhere near my home, which didn’t bode well for me.

  This was too much for my brain to handle on top of everything else. It only added more questions to the ever growing pile.

  Bottom line was that I needed to find a way out of here. Expelling a soft breath of air, I headed towards the door I assumed led to a bathroom, now only having fifteen minutes to spare.

  I’d guessed correctly.

  I walked into another lavish room that matched the previous in color scheme and size.

  There was a diamond shaped soak tub, a standalone shower, and a woman’s dream vanity.

  Not having the leisure to procrastinate, I turned the shower on, paying little attention to my reflection as I sought out toiletries.

  They were easy enough to find in a well stocked closet.

  I sat everything on the rim of stone shelving inside the shower, dropping my towel right outside the rounded glass door.

  After chucking my bra off, I stepped beneath the spray of hot water and immediately felt some of my tension melt away.

  I washed my hair and carefully scrubbed every inch of my body.

  When I got to my stomach, my hand lingered for a few seconds above the scar from my transverse incision.

  This was my biggest regret of all. I tried not to let myself dwell on it. I hated what it meant and the painful memories attached to it, but that was much easier said than done.

  Now was not the time to hop on a train barreling down such a dark path; I quickly finished washing up, taking extra care to clean between my legs.

  Stepping from the confines of the shower, chilled air enveloped me. I hurriedly grabbed the plush towel from the floor and secured it around my body.

  I went over to the vanity and wiped condensation from the mirror, finding a brand new comb in the drawer.

  I made quick work of my hair, leaving it down to dry. I brushed my teeth and then put on some deodorant before going back into the bedroom.

  Pulling open the doors on the wardrobe, I stared inside at the standard ‘uniforms’ and scoffed.

  Was this a goddamn joke?

  It looked like nothing more than a black chiffon teddy with red laced spaghetti straps and trim around the breast area. With the exception of two, they were all the same color.

  I debated for half a second before saying, “Fuck it.”

  It wasn’t like I had much of a choice. All I had was one cotton bra since Ryker had taken my underwear like it was a souvenir.

  Gnashing my teeth, I tore one of the uniforms from a hanger and slipped it on.

  The garment fit my B cups perfectly, tight up top and flow-y around my waist, stopping mid thigh.

  On a shelf inside were a shiny black pair of heels and a silk pair of flats. I chose the flats without another thought about it. Then I searched for underwear, finding none. But there were sheer stockings in one of the dresser drawers.

  They made me feel a little better once I put them on, giving the added illusion of more clothing.

  My lips flattened as I studied the finished product. The ensemble wasn’t anything anyone would dare wear in public.

  A tiny red cross stitched on either side of my boobs was the only thing that could qualify it as a uniform. Even with them it was basically just a piece of lingerie.

  The silver charm on my serenity prayer bracelet flashed in the mirror as I smoothed down my hair.

  My mind immediately went to my father and how worried I knew he was, eliciting a fresh onslaught of tears. I shut my eyes and willed them away, swiping at the two that had managed to break free.

  I wasn’t going to do this.

  If I let myself fall apart, I would never be able to put myself back together.

  A light knock had me opening my eyes and turning towards the door.

  The lock clicked and it swung open to reveal a dainty redhead dressed just as I was, only her teddy’s color pattern was swapped around with black being red and the red being black.

  “Hi,” she greeted warmly.

  Her smile faltered just the slightest bit at the blatant despairing look on my face, coming back in full force when I covered it with a mask of indifference.

  It seemed to be genuine, reaching her periwinkle eyes. “I’m Megan.”

  I licked my lips and replied. “Um, Faith.”

  “I know who you are.” She smiled again. “The supreme has chosen me to educate you before you begin your treatment.”

  I continued to give her a blank look. She knew I had no idea what any of that meant. “Didn’t you just say you’re supposed to educate me?”

  “Yes, sorry,” she giggled. Fucking giggled like anything about this situation was even slightly amusing…

  Her face quickly righted itself into a tempered half smile when she saw my expression was the same.

  “Look, Megan, I don’t know what you feel you need to educate me on, but I don’t care about any of that or whatever this treatment is you’re talking about.”

  Her half-smile slipped away completely, melting into a severe frown.

  “That’s rather disappointing, Faith. You should care. The supreme—”

  “All I care about right now are my friends. Do you know where they are, where they were taken?”

  “I can assure you that your friends are fine. They will be given this same opportunity by another apostle. If you come with me now, you will see them at the chapel.”

  I stared at her, trying to determine if she was lying or not, but it was impossible to tell.

  “Okay,” I finally said for lack of a better response. It wasn’t like I had a plethora of options laid out before me.

  “Good. Please follow me.” She smiled again and then turned on her heel.

  I walked out of the room, trailing behind her.

  The air seemed even colder now than it was before. I wrapped my arms around my middle and noticed Megan didn’t seem to be bothered at all.

  “You aren’t cold?”

  “No, but don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”

  Yeah, don’t count on that, I thought to myself.

  When we reached where the stairs that would take us to the landing began, she stopped and pointed down the lone hall that split away from the one we were standing in. There was another staircase at the end.

  “Down there is where you will find the office for our supreme, Bishop and Pope,” she explained.

  I seriously doubted those were their real names. It was also pretty presumptuous for someone to deem themselves that. I wondered which one Ryker was. I had a pretty good idea, but I wasn’t ready to hear it confirmed.

  “The stairs take you to their rooms, as well as the apostles’ rooms, like mine. They are all located on the third floor. I recommend you think of this wing as completely off limits.”

  She turned again and made a sweeping gesture to indicate the hall we were in.

  “This is the virulent floor. That’s what you’re considered.”

  Virulent, I repeated in my head. That didn’t sound like it was anything good.

  I needed a dictionary for all these terms. I suppose I could have asked Megan for a definition but she clearly wasn’t mentally well. She was much too happy and perky to be being held here against her will.

  She was either here willingly as one of these ‘apostles’, or she’d been brainwashed to the point of believing all the bullshit she was spewing.

  Either way, I couldn’t trust her, which made her useless in my endeavor of escaping. However, I could ask her seemingly innocent questions to gather as much detail about this place as I could.

  “How many people are here?”

  “On this floor? There are six doors on either side to make a total of twelve. Right now there are nine virulent, including you and both of your friends. The numbers change quite frequently though, as treatment is only—”

  “Both?” I interrupted. “As in, two?”

  She faltered again and her smile dulled, eyes briefly flickering to something behind me.

  I glanced back to see what she was looking at, but there wasn’t anything there. Turning to face her again, I waited impatiently for her response. Marcy was already hurt and hysterical; she was the first one I thought about if…

  “Oh, did I say both? Sorry, my brain just can’t keep up today. All your friends are fine, I assure you.”

  “I’m not assured,” I retorted, not believing her for a second.

  “You’ll see once we’re at the chapel. Speaking of which, we need to go now.”

  Before I could say anything else, she was descending the stairs.

  “Damnit,” I mumbled, following after her. Ryker had said the same thing. Whatever this chapel was clearly had some significance around here.

  We didn’t go straight there. First, Megan insisted on giving me a tour of the massive house.

  She showed me two separate living rooms, pointed out bathrooms, the direction of the kitchen—that hired staff maintained—a dining hall, and lastly, a library.

  Through it all I counted up four guards keeping watch. I then rounded the four to twelve, figuring that was a safe number to bet on.

  How was I going to bypass that much security?

  “Would you like to eat before we go outside?”Megan asked once I’d seen majority of the lower level.

  “No, I’m not hungry,” I lied.

  On the contrary, I felt as if I were starving, but my stomach was twisted with so many emotions I worried that whatever I ate would come right back up.

  “A common response,” Megan replied softly. “Let me show you the grounds then.”

  We headed back towards the foyer, passing a woman with flawless brown skin and a mass of long curls.

  She was dressed in a teddy the same color as Megan’s. Her light brown eyes briefly met mine but she didn’t say a word, silently continuing on her way.

  I didn’t think anything of it until we passed by a second woman, this one a blonde, but just as strikingly beautiful as the woman I’d just seen. She acted as if I were invisible, making her way past us without so much as a glance in my direction.

  “You will find most apostles do not speak to the virulent. We are told fornicating with the diseased will sway us to sin for the wrong reasons.”

  A bitter laugh bubbled in my chest, slipping out before I could stop it. Their ideology bullshit was ridiculous.

  “You’re talking to me right now. Aren’t you worried about me corrupting your purity? I wouldn’t want to make a sinner out of you, Megs.”

  “Your sarcasm isn’t necessary. You may not be converted yet but that doesn’t give you the right to mock my beliefs. I never said I didn’t sin. I just don’t sin like you.”

  “You really think there’s a right way to sin?”

  “Oh, Faith.” She shook her head at me. “There is always a better way to sin.”

  We were now entering the hall the ballroom sat off. There was a metal trolley parked right outside the elaborate double doors that hadn’t been there before.

  As we neared it, two guards emerged carrying Amy’s body. They dropped her on the metal cart like she was a slab of meat, and then one went back inside the ballroom while the other wheeled her in our direction.

  We silently moved to the side so he could pass while I studied Amy’s ashen face, wondering what she’d thought of before the shrapnel entered her skull.

  I’d seen my fair share of dead bodies and had no reaction over seeing this one; not even the pity I’d felt earlier was present.

  “What is he going to do with her?”

  “She will be harvested and then burned in the lower level incinerator. Her ashes will be added to the garden soil.”

  “I’m sorry, harvest?”

  “She has perfectly good organs,” Megan stated matter-of-factly.

  I wrinkled my nose in disgust, not needing any more detail on that process.

  While I felt no amount of remorse for Amy, my heart still ached for the children that no longer had their mother and would never know what happened to her.

  “What was the point in kidnapping her to just kill her?” I asked as we reached another set of double doors.

  They were larger than the ones that led into the ballroom, all black in color. On either side of them was a long stained glass window.

  Megan placed her hand on the large brass door handle and turned so we were face to face.

  “Amy got both a reprieve and a tragedy in the end. She never got the chance to meet her demons, but she gained something in that loss. She was granted her salvation today, Faith. Don’t belittle that.

  “She wasn’t here by random. No one is. Her husband wrote the check and the anointed handled the rest. Who do you think wrote your check, Faith?”

  With that, she pulled the door open and gestured for me to go outside.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Ryker

  They say that there is no peace for the wicked.

  For them, there is no redemption.

  There are no second chances.

  I’d dedicated my life to proving such naysayers wrong. It was my hereditary servitude as a full-blooded Silas.

  I stemmed from a long line of men that found vast amounts of wealth in doing the work no one else would.

 

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