I stayed completely still, until the plane was empty. The guard flicked his chin. “Follow me.”
I stood on trembling legs and straightened my dress. Brother Stephen led the way, dressed in his best tunic, his black hair cropped and smart. I followed. Sister Ruth, dressed in her finest long gray dress and white headdress, brought up the rear.
The air became stickier and hotter the closer we got to the door. When I reached the top of the stairs, I saw a large black vehicle at the bottom. Four guards waited in front of it . . . all with their eyes fixed on me.
I ducked my head and made my way down the stairs.
When I reached the hot asphalt, I glanced up at the guards. “It is true, there is another Cursed,” one said, excitement flashing across his face. “The prophecy will be realized.”
I could feel the building excitement pulsing from the men in waves. Brother James gestured for the other men to move aside. He opened the door of the vehicle and ordered, “Get in.”
Brother Stephen, Sister Ruth and I climbed in. Brother James got into the driver’s seat. I turned my attention to the window to escape the scrutiny of the guard, who was staring at me in the mirror.
We traveled down a gravel road, lush green trees blurring past. Everyone in the vehicle was silent. It seemed as if we had been in it for an eternity before we stopped outside a block of stone buildings.
We were led into a small stone building set to the left of a longer gray one. As we entered, two men, dressed in black, rose from their seats behind a table. Immediately, their eyes focused on me.
My stomach lurched when I recognized that they were in charge. They were the men closest to the prophet. The darker of the two stepped forward and spoke to Brother Stephen. “You are the brother who lived with her?”
“Yes, sir,” Brother Stephen replied. “And so did Sister Ruth.”
The guard raised his eyebrows. “But neither of you declared that you had a Cursed in your commune? You kept it from the prophet? You ignored a direct order to turn over any potential devil-whores to New Zion for inspection?”
“We did not suspect Sister Harmony of being a Cursed,” Brother Stephen explained.
The guard pushed past Brother Stephen and unclipped the veil from my face. The humid air kissed my bare cheeks, and I felt them pale as the disciple guard’s eyes drank me in. He pushed the headdress from my hair, the blond, waist-length strands cascading down my back. The guard stepped away, his head tilted to the side.
Keep calm, I reminded myself. Do not break.
An angry expression set on his face. “Not once did you think that this woman was a Cursed? I have been in her presence less than two minutes yet I can see her unrivaled beauty and feel her sinful pull. Her innate evil practically pollutes the purity in this room.”
Brother Stephen and Sister Ruth were silent. The guard stepped closer to me. “How old are you?”
I swallowed the nervous lump in my throat and whispered, “Twenty-three.”
His eyes flared. “The perfect age. The prophesized age.” The guard glared at Brother Stephen and Sister Ruth. “The Cursed Sister will be kept in seclusion until she is needed. We cannot risk her tempting the men of the commune before her wedding to the prophet.” The guard’s eyes drifted back to stare at me and travel down my body. “She is far more attractive than even Brother Ezrah divulged. The prophet will see this and brand her with the official Cursed status, I am sure.” The guard flicked his wrist. “You will both be secluded too, as punishment. Armageddon approaches, yet you hide our only chance at redemption in your grasp.” He shook his head in fury.
Turning to a lesser guard, the disciple guard ordered, “Take them to the cells. One has been prepared for the potential Cursed. Put Brother Stephen and Sister Ruth in another.”
A slimmer man pushed Brother Stephen toward the door. Sister Ruth quickly fixed my veil and headdress in place before we walked outside. I felt the guard’s eyes on my back the entire way as he took us to the long stone building. As we entered, I almost choked on the dank humid air that filled its every inch.
The guard opened a door. “You are in here,” he said to Brother Stephen and Sister Ruth. Sister Ruth squeezed my hand gently as she passed. I squeezed hers back. The guard shut the door behind them and said, “You will be given your orders soon.”
He walked to the next door. It was already open. Inside there was a bare mattress on the floor, a curtained-off toilet and basin, and a high window, with bars. My heart fell. I was to be trapped.
“Quarters fit for a Cursed whore,” the guard snapped, his voice dripping with disdain. He flicked his head toward the room, silently ordering me to get inside.
I stepped forward, and the door slammed shut behind me. I could hear the dripping of water from behind a wall to my right, which was separating me from what I assumed was another cell. I stood in the center of my cell for too many minutes to count before I walked to the makeshift bed. I sat down on the hard, stained mattress and leaned my back against the rough wall.
I closed my eyes trying to chase away the distress that was threatening to rise. I reminded myself of why I was there. I had to be strong. People were depending on my strength. My family was depending on me.
You will not fail. You will not fail your family . . . not again.
So I kept my eyes shut, chasing the claws of fear from my mind.
I was here.
To marry the prophet.
And that was simply that.
Chapter Three
Cain
A large wooden door opened and the guards threw me forward. My legs gave way at the unexpected push and I fell to the ground. A searing anger flooded through my veins. My hands balled into fists as I forced myself to lift my torso off the ground. I tasted blood in my mouth and realized I had hit my lip as I fell. I barely felt it. Every damn part of me felt numb. It felt as if no time had passed before the guards had come for me again.