Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 130761 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 654(@200wpm)___ 523(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130761 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 654(@200wpm)___ 523(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
“You lie,” I sobbed and slumped against his hold. My head sank into the pillow as another wave of hellfire took command of my muscles. I gritted my teeth and tried to cope with the pain. The only relief I found was a cool cloth being placed on my head, momentarily ridding my scalding skin from the mass of sweat there.
“Potion,” I begged. “Please . . . just give me Meister’s potion.”
“No,” the voice thundered, firm and hard. It came from just above me. I forced my eyes to open. The male’s face slowly swam into view.
“You,” I said, and the male stilled. I lifted my hand to his long brown hair and ran my fingertips over the hair covering his upper lip and chin. “Am I still at the tree?” Was I outside, in the fresh air? I tried to smell if I was, to smell the freshness of the grass and the evening air, but I could smell nothing; I could place nothing.
All was . . . displaced.
“You’re safe,” he said reassuringly and took my hand from his face. I believed he would throw away my touch, like every other male had ever done. But instead, he held my hand in his and squeezed it tightly.
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.