The High Priestess (10 page)

Her skin broke out in gooseflesh at the very suggestion and she tasted bile on the back of her tongue. “I think not.”

“As you say.” With a shrug, he turned and left the room, the door sliding shut behind him.

Marianna hugged her knees to her chest. She pressed the fabric of Gerard’s shirt to her face and inhaled deeply, taking in his scent. It was the only thing keeping panic at bay.

No, that was false. There was nothing keeping panic at bay—it hovered just beyond the edge of thought, ready to sweep over her and suck her under. There would be no going back once that happened. Which meant she couldn’t let it get to her. Not yet.

She scrambled for her cards, dropping the shirt in the process. It didn’t matter—there was no one here to see her, after all. When she tried to shuffle them, the cards flew out of her hands, scattering across the floor. Marianna crawled after them, the first tears slipping through her lashes as she tried to hold in her sobs.

This hadn’t gone anything like she’d hoped. She thought seducing Gerard was the answer, but it had only muddled things further. Now, instead of him feeling softer toward her and willing to help, he was locked up as well. And Marianna doubted they treated traitors any better than they did Diviners.

He was going to die along with her, and it was all her fault.

Adam pulled his wheeled table closer, lifting a knife so Gerard could see. “She’s a new one—I’ve been wanting to try her out for weeks. How special that it’s your blood we’ll be shedding to pop her cherry.”

Before Gerard could speak, Adam struck, cutting deep across his chest and down his stomach. Shuddering, he bit back a growl of pain, not sure if it was better that he knew where Adam would cut next, or worse.

Right arm. Left arm. Chest, again and again. Things faded beneath a haze of red as rich as the blood flowing from his body. It was almost as if he could feel his strength leeching away with every cut, but they would never make him scream. Never.

And then…it stopped.

He blinked slowly, trying to force his eyes to focus on the High Priest, standing just outside the blood pool. “What—”

“Best not to speak, as you’ll only ruin your chance. I’m giving you the opportunity of mercy, you see. Not something we do often, I’ll grant you, but I think in this circumstance, it’s only fitting. That creature is quite beautiful, and the flesh is weak. You are only a man, after all.”

Gerard tried to swallow past the dryness in his throat. “I don’t understand.”

“Well, boy, it’s not as if you’re getting away without consequence. That would set a bad example for the men.”

Fear started at the base of his spine, spiraling upward. “What did you do?”

“It’s not what I did—it’s you who is responsible for this.”

“What did you do?”
He tried to sit up, but the bindings bit into his chest and the pain nearly made him pass out. “Tell me. Please.”

It was Adam who answered, his voice far too smug. “Oberon.”

His mind went blank for one perfect moment before reality set in. His boy. His giggling little boy. “You did not hurt my son.”

“Of course not. What do you take me for?” The High Priest gave a dry chuckle and the bottom of Gerard’s stomach dropped out. “His death was quite painless, I can assure you.”

No. No, no, no, no, no. Please Ba’al, let it not be true.
His breath rasped through his throat, the feeling barely registering against the well of emotional torment. It couldn’t be true. Oberon was just a
child
. But Gerard knew better than most that no one was safe from the wrath of Sanctify.

“Not my son, Adam.
Not my boy
.”

Adam crossed his arms over his chest, blood dripping in slow plops from the knife still in his hand. “It was the only way to make you see, Leoni. There are always consequences—just like the High Priest said.”

The High Priest moved back into his line of sight. “Through your physical and emotional pain you have been cleansed. Now we can move past this small indiscretion and toward the future of Sanctify.”

Gerard couldn’t feel anything past the cocoon of numbness, couldn’t speak, couldn’t move as Adam undid his restraints and sat him up. The room swam, but he kept from falling through sheer strength of will.

“I will, however, need your word. You understand, I’m sure.”

He looked at the High Priest, wishing there was enough strength in his body to leap off the table and kill the man where he stood. No, that wasn’t right. He couldn’t do it yet—Marianna was still a prisoner. It was the thought of saving her that gave him the strength to find the appropriate words. “Of course, High Priest. I live to serve. I now see the error of my ways.”

“I had hoped you’d come around. Join me in saying Ba’al’s Benediction and then we shall get you cleaned up, son.”

“Of course.” He bowed his head, staring at the blood covering the floor. His blood. The words flowed effortlessly off his lips but, for the first time in Gerard’s life, they meant nothing to him. Less than nothing.

When he finished, the High Priest nodded. “There’s a good boy.” He turned and strode out of the room without a backward glance.

There was no way Gerard could walk. Adam seemed to know it because he scooped Gerard up as if he were no more than a child, carrying him through the halls and outside.

“It’ll be just like the good old days, before that bitch came along and started screwing with your head.”

Marianna. He was talking about Marianna. A part of Gerard tried to rise up and cast the blame on her. Things started to change once she came into his life. But that wasn’t entirely true. What changed was Gerard.

Oberon. Oh Ba’al, his boy was gone. And there was only one person to blame for the loss threatening to eat his very soul.

The High Priest.

He took every ounce of his pain and stored it away in a little box inside him. There was no place for it here. Instead, Gerard embraced his rage, pulling it to the surface until it blacked out all else. This he could deal with. This he could use.

“You’ll be a good boy now, right?” Adam helped him onto his bed and took a large step back. “I would really hate to have to go through this again.”

Gerard braced his hands on his knees. “No, you wouldn’t.”

“You’re right.” Adam laughed, high and long. “I’d just
love
to have you on the table again.”

Bastard. But he hadn’t expected anything else. Gerard was the one who trained Adam, after all. He’d seen the monster beneath the man from the beginning and he’d done nothing. The man was just another tool for Sanctify to use as the High Priest saw fit. Which meant Gerard was partly to blame for what Adam had become.

“So sorry to disappoint, Adam, but you won’t get that opportunity a second time.” He’d be long gone before this monster had a chance to try for him again.

“We’ll see. The old man, he thinks you’re tamed. Me?” Adam tapped the flat of his knife against his chin. “I think he just pushed you off the deep end. Can’t wait to see the fireworks.” With a final grin, he strode out of the room.

Gerard was going to kill that little shit one of these days. But not today. He let his head hang, drawing anger around him like a suit of armor. Nothing would get through it; no lesser emotion could stand against the wrath taking root in his soul. He’d kill the High Priest, but before he did, Gerard was going to take everything the man held dear. After all, he was only returning the favor.

His boy…

No, he couldn’t dwell on that. Not yet.

First he had to save Marianna.

Something soft tried to worm its way through his hate, but he squashed it. Yes, she mattered to him, meant more than he could begin to describe, especially after such a short time, but until they were free of this place, he couldn’t afford to feel it.

And they
would
be free.

But first, he had to find Fisk. And some med patches.

“You’re hilarious.”

“I know, a regular comedian.” Fisk leaned against the door and crossed his arms over his chest. “So are we breaking Marianna out, or what?”

“You know?” What was he saying? Of course Fisk knew. “Any ideas how to proceed?”

“Yeah. Rescue the girl, steal a ship, and fly off into the nearest warp point, never to be seen again.” He laughed. “I figured you’d be planning something like this. I have a ship that’s just been repaired. Made sure no one’s scheduled on it for over a week, so you’re clear on that.”

“How convenient.” He had the codes to get past Control. If they could get the thing airborne, they had a shot at the warp point… From there they could find a safe place to hide and start over.

“I think so. I also think you’re going to need me to get her out. I figure you can stage a distraction. I’ll send the newbie ahead to get everything ready for us, and I’ll retrieve Marianna.”

“You seem to have this all figured out.” Which was a relief, because between the damn med patches and the supplements, it was hard for him to think straight. He wanted to itch at his wounds and pass out for a good twelve hours, but neither of those was an option right now.

Fisk shrugged. “Not exactly. You’ll have to figure out something for the distraction.”

“You leave me with the messy part and take the pretty woman for yourself. Typical.”

“I know.” He grinned. “We need to do this tonight if it’s going to work. Even then, it’s a long shot at best.”

“You and I excel at long shots.” Gerard swayed on his feet and glanced at the clock. “When?”

“Try to sleep for a few hours. We’ll meet after midnight.”

“Okay.” Sleep sounded good, if he could manage to get his mind to stop racing. That didn’t seem likely, but at the very least he could try to rest for a bit.

Fisk patted his shoulder. “It will be okay, Leoni.”

Gerard reeled back, pressing a hand to his shoulder. It throbbed where the needle had entered his skin. “Did you just…drug me?”

“It’s only a mild sedative. You’ll be right as rain in time to do some damage.” He guided Gerard back to the bed and leaned over to set the alarm on the clock. “Don’t forget—make it good enough to get everybody running.”

“I’m gonna…kick your ass.”

“Sure you are. Right when you get your legs under you again.”

“Asshole,” he slurred, unable to even lift his head to follow Fisk as he moved around the room.

“Sleep tight. See you soon.”

…

Marianna sat in the dark, clutching her cards to her chest and rocking back and forth. Two days and it would all end—that’s what she’d heard the guards talking about when they delivered the food she never touched. The big festival, in which the main attraction would be her torture and death.

Panic surged but she fought it back, clinging to sanity by her fingernails. Giving in would do nothing to help her now—it would only make things infinitely worse. And her situation was terrible enough without her turning into a weepy, inconsolable mess.

But all her brave thoughts didn’t stop her stomach from twisting painfully as the door slid open. Her terror dissipated when she recognized Fisk in the doorway and the slumped guard on the ground behind him. Marianna took a deep breath, forcing back the fear. The cards had promised hope, even if she didn’t quite believe it. “What are you doing here?”

He struck a heroic pose, chest puffed out and fists propped against his sides. “Saving the damsel in distress—what does it look like?”

“Um…”

“Get up, get up. We don’t have a lot of time. Gerard set fire to the bar, but it won’t keep them occupied for long.”

“Fire?” She allowed him to pull her to her feet and hustle them to the door, wondering all the while if this were an elaborate trick by the High Priest. Doubt and fear were almost enough to make her turn around, but Marianna couldn’t quell the hope blossoming. She had to try. What was the worst that could happen?

That question seemed to get her into trouble more often than not these days, but it wasn’t as if things could get any worse. She followed Fisk through the halls, winding their way along a different route than he’d brought her in a week ago. He must have caught her questioning look, because he said, “I told them that I was sent to relieve the guard. If I come charging out with you, they’ll know something’s up.” A shadow passed over his face. “And, as wrong as my brothers are, I really don’t want to have to hurt or kill them.”