Chapter 21 Jules
JULES
Ispend two hours poring over Elias’s files, my eyes blinking closed from lack of sleep now that the adrenaline has mostly worn off. I’m afraid to count how many times I’ve used his fancy coffee machine to make myself a new cup.
The things I read about this Sanctum of Ash cult are horrific.
So much abuse of women and children—it turns my stomach.
Rape, rituals, cannibalism. Coffee sloshes in my empty stomach when I open an envelope full of photos detailing the depravity.
When I pick up one showing a baby being cut out of a dead woman, I drop it and run to the bathroom.
I barely manage to drop to my knees before the toilet when vomit forces its way out of my mouth.
I don’t hear Elias’s return until he places a hand on my back and reaches up to flush the toilet with the other. He leaves my side for a moment to hand me a wet washcloth, then kneels beside me.
“You need a shower. Food, sleep. Rest,” he says after a minute of rubbing circles over my back.
I’m still only wearing his jacket. I’ve gotten so used to being naked, and I didn’t want to get my clothes sticky. Leather’s unforgiving enough as it is.
“Yes to the shower. No to the food, and I’m afraid to sleep after what I’ve seen,” I whisper hoarsely.
I finally look up at him and frown when I see red smudges on his cheek.
“Are you bleeding?”
He scoffs, then pulls me up to my feet.
“Not my blood, baby.”
I lift an eyebrow. “Do I want to know?”
Elias gives me a brittle-looking grin.
“You don’t have a choice,” he replies. “We brought in the Prophet, Ezekiel Moore. Normally, we terrorize them for just a little bit longer, but my brothers decided to shorten the timeline so you can… prove yourself.”
My stomach turns again, but I must’ve gotten all the coffee out. I only gag.
“Tonight?” I ask weakly when I manage to catch my breath.
Elias shakes his head. He looks almost as tired as I feel, his pale eyes offset by dark shadows.
“No, Little Sapphire. It’s almost morning, and there’s been enough excitement for one day.” He pulls me closer and pushes his jacket off my shoulders. It pools on the ground at my bare feet. “Let me get you a toothbrush.”
He joins me in the shower, but for the first time tonight, we don’t touch each other to chase an orgasm. His touches are still possessive, still admiring. But he doesn’t linger. He’s washing off evidence of last night to prepare for what’s coming next.
???
With a groan, I lift my head off the pillow, wincing at the dried saliva tugging on my cheeks. I only sleep on my front when I’m really tired, and I always end up drooling. I stretch my stiff neck and look around for Elias.
It was dawn by the time we went to bed, and it’s pretty dark again outside the blinds-covered windows, so I must have slept all day. Crash course into carnie life, I guess. No ringmaster, though.
My bladder sends me to the bathroom, and as I get up, I notice boxer shorts and a T-shirt folded at the foot of the bed.
He must’ve left them for me. When I step out of the bedroom, I hear murmured sounds of a conversation right outside the trailer.
I pee and brush my teeth, dress in the borrowed clothes, and tentatively try the door handle, finding it unlocked.
“Oh, look, dead girl’s awake,” one of the performers says—the knife thrower.
“Behave, Cole,” the illusionist drawls. “She’s not dead until she fucks up.”
“But she should’ve been,” the fire eater mutters.
With a scoff, I put my hands on my hips and straighten to my full height.
“Jeez. Did someone collectively pee in your cereal this…” I look west, where purple and orange color the sky. “Evening,” I finish after a lame pause.
Smirking, Elias stands up and walks to my side. With a decisive move, he pulls me against him and takes my lips in a claiming kiss. Might as well piss a circle around me. Still, I melt into it, my lady parts waking up like he’s their personal coffee machine.
“Good morning to you too,” I murmur when he pulls back.
“To borrow Cole’s joke, you slept like the dead,” he teases. His voice is pitched low, but I know everyone’s listening. I feel myself flush—he couldn’t have missed the copious amounts of drool on his pillows.
“Yeah, well… it was a night,” I say lamely.
Elias gives me a beaming smile. I can’t tell if the glint in his eyes is contentment or madness.
“That it was. Let me formally introduce you to my brothers.” He points at the illusionist, who’s similar enough in looks to him that he must be related. “That’s Silas, my half-brother and second-in-command.”
Silas gives me a mocking salute and a bitter smile.
“Reporter,” he says.
“Jules,” I reply coolly. The corners of his lips twitch up, and he looks away.
“Over there, with the cards, that’s Marek. Silas’ half-brother,” Elias continues.
“I see a theme,” I mumble even as I wave at the man who gives me a serene smile in return.
“Pleasure to meet you, Juliane,” he says in a soothing voice.
I cringe. “No one calls me that. Not since… Never mind. Call me Jules.”
Marek nods. “Jules.”
Elias points at the knife thrower. “The smartass there is Cole. And the vicious pyromaniac is Logan.”
Both men only give me a curt nod, which I return in kind. Guess they’ll take some work to win over.
“Rowe is Logan’s twin.”
The animal tamer, the one with the scars, greets me with a quiet hello.
“And, last but not least, there’s Jonah.”
The dark-skinned, muscle-bound giant winks at me.
“And you’re all…” I leave the sentence hanging.
“Fucked in the head?” Logan asks, one eyebrow raised.
I scrunch my face up. “Cult survivors.”
Cole crosses his arms, the knives still in his hands glinting under the porch lights.
“We’re more than cult survivors, Blue.”
“We like to think of ourselves as avenging angels,” Logan adds with a cackle.
Elias pulls out an honest-to-goodness pocket watch and checks the time.
“Gotta get ready, boys. Almost showtime.”
“You mean k—killing the man?” I stutter, my voice low.
All seven of them burst into laughter.
“No, Little Sapphire,” Elias says, shaking his head fondly. “It’s time for the show in the Big Top. The torture comes after.”
“Right,” I breathe, a hysterical little laugh escaping my mouth. “That kind of show.”
“That kind of show,” he echoes with a grin. “Why don’t you come help me get ready? You should eat something.”
Silas scoffs as the brothers start getting up and turning to what I presume are their own trailers.
"Don’t be late,” the illusionist throws over his shoulder in a derisive voice.
“Why would he think you’ll be late?” I ask as Elias leads me back inside.
“Because he knows how you’ll be getting me ready,” he replies.
Oh.