His words filtered into my fogged brain. “Safe?” I asked. He dipped his head closer. I looked into his brown eyes, and he nodded. I stopped breathing. His eyes. I knew his eyes . . . “Kind eyes,” I whispered. He sat back, sighing.
Bringing his hand to my mouth, I kissed at the skin. “Please.” My eyes fell on Rebekah and Sapphira in the corner. They were still watching me. Only this time, parts of their flesh were breaking away, their hair was falling into the air, and the blood that stained their skin began to pour in rivulets down onto the floor. “You did this,” Rebekah rebuked. “You believed them. You let them hurt us.”
“No!” I cried, but it was no good. “The potion,” I pleaded to the male. “You must give me the potion. I cannot take this anymore.”
He took a long inhale. When he opened his eyes, they were shining. “You gotta,” he simply said. “You gotta go through this shit to get better.”
Rage like nothing I had encountered before built within me, and I pushed his hand away. I spat at his naked devil-painted chest. “Give it to me! I want it!” I slapped my head and pushed the side table beside me. It crashed to the floor. I pointed at my arm and hit at my skin. “Here! Put it in HERE! NOW!”
In a flash the male was on me, his huge body pinning my arms down to the mattress. I spat in his face and tried to claw at his arms. My anger was leading me and I let it, as the fire came back, burning every part of me alive. “GIVE IT TO ME!” I yelled. The male stared me down, still saying nothing.
I stared back, screaming demands until my voice cut off and I saw the final remnants of Rebekah and Sapphira fade into the air behind him. My chest caved in as racking tears poured from my eyes. “Please . . . please . . . please . . .”
He shook his head.
“You’re gonna get through this.”
“I want to die,” I said finally, after I didn’t know how long. I had failed. “Let me die.” A whispered request. “Help . . . me die.”
The male’s head snapped back as I spoke those words. His grip tightened on my wrist, and he leaned his head in close. “You’re not gonna die. I’m not gonna let another one die. You got me, Red?” His tanned cheeks reddened, and his eyes clouded with darkness. “We’re gonna get you through this. We’ve been here a while already, just a little more time to go. You ain’t getting your smack, and you ain’t gonna die.”
So I closed my eyes and let the darkness take me. But it was Meister that I saw. Meister and Judah in New Zion.
“Phebe!” Judah called, and I walked toward his seat. I stared at this male pretending to be the prophet and knew his lies. He knew that I knew them too; his eyes, identical to Prophet Cain’s, watched me constantly. Their eyes looked the same, yet Judah’s had always held something different to Cain’s—an innate malice one could not deny.
“Prophet Cain.” I dropped to my knees before him.
“Rise.” I did as ordered. There was a male I had only seen once before standing beside him. He had attended a recent Lord’s Sharing. To Judah’s right was Sarai, the child who had recently become his consort.
“Sister Phebe.” Judah gestured to the shaven-haired male beside him. “This is Meister. He is a very privileged guest here at New Zion. He saw you in the Lord’s Sharing, and quickly became an admirer of your . . . talents.” Judah’s stare bored into mine, and I understood perfectly what he wanted me to do.
“I understand, Prophet Cain.” I walked toward Meister. With each step I concentrated on everything I had ever been taught. My hips swayed seductively as I climbed the stairs to where they stood. I dipped my head and glanced up at him through hooded eyes. I flicked my hair to the side and let it swish against my waist.
And then I was before him. “Sir,” I said in a husky voice. “Come. I would like to show you how we honor our guests.”
Meister slipped his hand in mine, and I led him from the prophet’s house to my chambers. I offered him a place at the end of my bed and stood before him. Without breaking eye contact, I moved my hair from my shoulders and raised my hand to slip off the sleeves of my garment. Meister became hard under his jeans; the bared muscles of his arms and neck tensed and bulged as the material fell from my body, leaving me exposed.
I walked forward, slow enough for him to savor my body, but quick enough to make him pant for my touch.
“Fuck me,” he said as I stopped before him and ran my hands up his arms. Strange markings were painted on his skin, unlike any I had ever seen before. Some bright, some horrifying. I lifted his shirt over his head and bared his body to my eyes. Still looking into his eyes, I slipped my breasts down the skin on his chest and found my mouth at his nipples. I lapped at the flesh with the tip of my tongue, feeling the bead harden under my touch. He hissed as I grazed my teeth over the raised skin.
His hand moved to my hair, and, suddenly, I was being wrenched to the mattress. I called out as I slammed against the bed. Meister was on his feet, undoing his pants with fast-working hands. His blue eyes were lit with ardor. His strong hands pulled down his pants, freeing his thick length. Using the training that had been ingrained in me since the age of ten, I reached forward and pulled him closer by his muscled hips. His length was hard and ready, so without pausing, I wrapped my lips around him. I was slow at first, teasing and tantalizing, but Meister’s hard hand clutched at my hair. Without warning, he thrust himself inside my mouth until I gagged. I swallowed every thrust he gave, ignoring the tears running down my cheeks. And then Meister was out of my mouth and pushing me onto my back. “Like it rough, do you, whore?” he snarled. Fear settled into my bones.
I had seduced hundreds upon hundreds of males. Some were rougher than others—I was prepared for all—but the glint in Meister’s eyes unnerved me more than anyone I had ever met. Even Judah.
Meister covered my body and split apart my legs with his strong hands. I cried out in surprise as he did so, but it only brought a smile to Meister’s lips. “Do you like that, whore? Like that I can take what I want from you and you can do nothing to fight me off?”
My lip shook as I prepared myself for he was about to do. And then I remembered my training and what was expected of me as a Sacred Sister. “Yes, sir,” I replied. “I want you to overpower me. To take me against my will.” Lifting my mouth to Meister’s ear, I licked along the lobe and whispered, “I want you to own me.”
That was all it took for Meister to snap. He threw me down to the mattress and roughly slammed himself inside me. I stared up at the ceiling as he rammed himself into me over and over again. My hands ran over his back, and I let him savage my mouth with his own, biting on my lip to draw blood. Because that was my role in this life. To pleasure the males associated with the prophet and the faith.
And I was good at it.
The most decorated Sacred Sister.
Meister roared his release into my ear and smothered me with his sweat-soaked body.
I closed my eyes.