17. The Rebel
“You wanted to see me, Sarah?” Her voice startles me out of my roaming thoughts. Pay fucking attention, Sarah. She just snuck up on you. She could have been anyone. I chastise myself for my stupidity and false sense of safety. I know better than to let my guard down, even here in this rebel safe house. There is danger everywhere, and just because I’m amongst those who, too, want to see the Brotherhood brought down and their reign of terror ended, doesn’t mean I’m safe. The reality is that I’m never safe; none of us are.
I turn slowly around, my eyes appraising her from the soles of her black boot-clad feet to the top of her dark head. All that gorgeous thick hair loose, and cascading in waves down her back, reminds me of her mother at her age. She really has grown into such a beauty. A smirk crosses my lips at her attire, a mixture of my son’s, and what we have provided for her.
Her black tattoos peek out along the top of her shoulder and down her arms, without the slightest worry about the consequences of having them. What a naughty and brave girl she is, allowing her lover to ink those onto her skin when, at any moment, the Brotherhood may have found them.
Yes, Dinah Camrose has grown from a spirited and sweet young girl, who used to sit on my knees sharing sweets with me and smiling with her two front teeth missing, to a formidable, powerful woman. Her mother, bless her poor soul, would be proud of the woman she has become. The woman who is destined to liberate all of her other sisters from the horrors of living in an oppressed world governed by the Brotherhood. She just doesn’t know it yet; how important she is to the cause.
“Yes, how are you feeling, child?” I question as I observe the dark shadows marring the space under her eyes, and the tight lines around her mouth. I wonder if she would be honest and tell me if she was in pain? Probably not, because she knows she may be forced back into her bed for further rest, and as I have discovered, Dinah doesn’t like to be forced into anything.
I’ve watched her the last two days, fighting against the demands of the doctors and nurses who cared for her while she lay in a coma. More amusingly, I’ve watched her lead my stubborn and difficult son around by his nose like a love-sick puppy. Did I ever believe that there would be a woman or man who could tame that strong-willed boy? No, I never imagined that he would soften for anyone; not even Ezekiel Rothesay or Gabriel Camrose managed that. I’m not ignorant to the fact that my son is a sociopath with psychotic tendencies, or that he’s bisexual.
Have I feared him and his destructive ways in the past? Yes. I feared that he would turn into a monster like his father under the tutelage of the Order, and yet, although he is unhinged and destructive, he has resisted their poison. Can I refer to him as a good man? No, I am not foolish enough to put blinders on to his true nature. There is evil in him, but somehow, that wisp of a girl has managed to tame it, or at least for the moment, restrain it.
“Fine. Antsy. Fearful for what is happening to Sammy, my brother’s son… and Zeke.” Ah, there it is. Despite what Ezekiel has done to her, almost ending her life in order to save that of my son, she still worries about him, even still cares for him, I would dare say. Good, that will make things easier.
Will I be able to use that for my benefit? A brief moment of guilt tries to rise within me, but I slam the door on it. I have been a prisoner for too long. An unwilling victim of the Order, like so many other women, used and abused until there was almost nothing left of me. The trusting and obedient girl I once was is long gone now, and has been replaced by a woman filled with vicious and unrelenting rage. Rage that will not be soothed until the Order is burnt to the ground.
What is that saying from the old world? It was in a book Dinah’s mother, Maria, had hidden by some man named William Congreve. “Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor Hell a fury like a woman scorned.” How adept that description is for the woman in front of me and for the image I see in the mirror.
This girl has a power she doesn’t yet understand, one that can help free us. She was once an innocent that the Order corrupted and turned into a predator, one that now will hunt them as prey. Her reputation as the Unholy Ghost will precede her, putting the fear of all that is holy into men who are riddled with sins.
Do I feel remorse that I will do whatever I need to in order to get what I want? Yes, I loved this child once. She was the daughter that I never had the chance to have, thanks to my cunt of a husband.
Once I gave birth to Abraham, his male heir, I had completed my sacred duty, and Peter had me sterilized against my will, so that he could continue to use me and share me with his friends, without worrying about me becoming impregnated with a bastard he would be forced to raise. I have spent years being passed from one disgusting man to another, all while the man who was supposed to love me gained power, breaking faith with me every chance he could.
“Your usefulness is between your whore legs, Sarah. That is all you are good for, being a man’s cumdump. You will continue to spread those legs for me and any man I deem worthy. You will do it without complaint, or I will murder Abraham and start again with a new, younger, and prettier wife.” His hand lashes out, backhanding me hard against the side of my face and forcing me to stumble to my knees.
“That’s it, whore, on your knees where you belong. Where you will be of the most use to me.” His tight fingers clamp onto my hair and yank until my neck is bowed, and tears stream down my face with the pain of the strands being ripped out.
“Please, Peter, don’t hurt me. I… I love you! I will obey, don’t… don’t hurt Abraham,” I gasp with pain, as my heart shatters inside my chest to see how much the man I thought loved me really doesn’t. I am nothing to him, never have been. I am just a tool to be used and then discarded. He never truly cared about me; it was all lies.
He drags me forward by my hair, the humiliation of making me crawl like a beast, one of the lesser evils I will face tonight. “Come on, boys, she’s ready for all her holes to be filled up, and don’t take it easy on her. She enjoys being a whore for the Brotherhood.”
Peter Mercier will die a painful death, and the last image he will see before the light is snuffed out will be my face as I take his life. So that when he meets the devil, he will know that it was me who finally gave him what he deserved. I will be avenged.
“I understand, Dinah. I can only imagine the pain that must fill your heart, at knowing the three of them are still prisoners of the Brotherhood.” I take a step closer to her, schooling my features. “It must be devastating to know that they are being beaten and tortured, and may be close to death.” Steady now, Sarah, don’t push her too hard, we are so close now.
Dinah drags her hands down her face. I can see the pain that my words have caused her, the images that must be playing out inside of her head. “Do you have any news, Sarah? Is your contact, who is close to the Holy Father, still refusing to meet with me?”
“I’m sorry, Dinah. He says that he must be careful and that you have not proven yourself yet. I understand the frustration and pain that causes you. I, however, cannot break his confidence, not even for you, my shared daughter.” I use the nickname from her childhood, knowing that it makes her feel special, and she is. Not only as a daughter I once wanted, but as the beacon of hope that she has become to me and our distraught world.
I sigh deeply, reaching forward and grasping her shoulder tightly before pulling her into my arms. I hold her tight, giving her what she needs most right now, a mother’s touch to soothe her, before pulling away and staring into her deep gray eyes with those blue chips of ice in their depths. The same eyes her mother Maria had, the ones that I watched slowly diminish of light at the hands of her power-hungry husband, and the Order that he served before repenting.
“You must be strong, Dinah. I… I have had news from the capital. It seems that Noah is getting ready to… force Ezekiel into another marriage, the minute the mourning period has ended. That will mean… that Sammy will not live long, Dinah. Too many eyes are on them now, and with the Holy Father already suspicious, Noah is trying to grasp as much power as possible, to dethrone him as supreme leader of the Brotherhood.”
“Jesus fucking Christ! That man is a menace. He will never stop, will he? He will never stop trying to amass power regardless of the cost.” She rips out of my hold, agitation and fury across her features as she begins to pace back and forth in front of me.
“I’m so sorry, Dinah! He truly is a villain who must be stopped. He is a threat to all of their lives and ours.” I force a tear to slide down my cheek, letting her see the pain that, too, resides in my weary soul. The scars which have hardened over the years to become a thick skin that I now wear like battle armor to protect myself. I will never allow myself to be a victim again. The rebels have given me the ability to fight back against my oppressors, and this girl will be my weapon.
“What are we going to do, Sarah? I need to stop him. I need to protect them from Noah and the Brotherhood. How do I do that? How do I save them?” Her trusting eyes meet mine, and the guilt rises once again within me, but I push it aside. This has to be done, and I can grieve later for the remainder of my lost soul.
“The only way to stop them, or at least give them pause, is if a high-ranking Brotherhood member was to be murdered. It would have to be someone close to Noah Rothesay. Someone who would cause him to pause before murdering Ezekiel and Sammy.” I take a deep breath, knowing there is no turning back now. God forgive me for what I am about to do.
“You would need someone who causes him to truly fear for his own safety. Someone protected behind the walls of the Order, who still manages to end up dead. Dinah, you would need to kill Peter Mercier, my husband, in his own home, and leave a message letting them know you are coming for them.”
Her eyes widen dramatically at my words. Whatever she thought I was going to say, she never anticipated those would be the words I would utter, and yet there are no lies amongst them. If she genuinely wants to save her men, she must kill more than just Peter. The Unholy Ghost will have to go on another killing spree, except this time, it will have help from the rebels. I will make damn sure of it. A cleansing is coming to the Brotherhood in the form of fire and blood.
“Sarah… I… are you sure?” I can see the concern in her eyes and the pity she feels for me. If I was a better person, I would take back my words. I would tell her that we will find another way forward to save the men she obviously cares for, but I’m not. All the goodness in me has been bled out, and this is what is left. A woman with nothing left to lose, whose soul she has already promised to the devil in order to receive her vengeance.
“His death will not hurt me or Abraham, Dinah. We are long past being the two people who once loved each other. The years have not been kind. Peter is as much a monster as Noah is, and always will be. This is the only way that you will save your men, while also keeping Abraham safe from the Order. You must kill Peter Mercier, and make it known that you will continue to kill high-ranking Brotherhood men until they release Sammy and Ezekiel, and give you back your nephew.”
“You will have to remind them that you are the boogeyman of the Order, and that none of them are truly safe, regardless of if they hide behind their thick walls.”
“You just signed Peter’s death certificate, Sarah.”
“I know.”