Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
Ariana
I followed Tabitha into the hallway, a part of me wondering if this was a test. If Josiah would rush upon me, tell me I needed correction for daring to leave my room. But that didn’t happen. Instead, several other doors opened as women filtered silently out of their rooms.
Without a single word, they each fell into line, and I followed their lead, mimicking their posture, heads bowed, hands clasped in front of them.
Tabitha started down the corridor, and we all walked quietly behind her, the only sounds our soft footsteps against the hardwood floor and the distant groan of a pipe somewhere deep within the building.
I tried to steal an occasional glance at my surroundings, but I was too on edge about what tonight would bring that I kept my head lowered as we continued down a set of ornate stairs before walking through a wide archway and into an enormous dining room that looked like something straight out of a European castle.
A massive wooden table dominated the center of the room, long enough to seat at least thirty people. Candles flickered overhead from iron chandeliers, their flames reflecting against polished silverware and crystal glasses.
And the smell…
God.
Fresh bread.
Rosemary.
Garlic.
Roasted meat.
My stomach cramped painfully, my mouth watering with the promise of sustenance.
The last thing I’d eaten was pasta at Henry’s house a few hours before I was transported to the drop point. Even then, I didn’t eat much, too nervous about what might happen.
Now hunger clawed at me.
The other women filed into place around the table with eerie precision, each standing behind a chair.
Tabitha led me to a chair beside hers, and I mirrored her posture, hands clasped, head bowed. No one made a move to sit or reach for food. Hell, it didn’t even seem like anyone looked at it.
As if they’d been trained not to.
I wondered how long we’d have to remain like this. It wouldn’t surprise me if Josiah made us stand here for hours, staring at the mouthwatering food while our stomachs rumbled.
As we waited, I stole a few glances at the other women, looking for one woman in particular.
Sarah. I’d only seen her photograph once — in Maine when I’d gone into the basement to get Henry’s duffel bag.
I worried I wouldn’t recognize her. But as my gaze met with a brunette standing a few chairs down, I knew it was her.
I’d recognize those eyes anywhere. They were the same green hue as Henry’s.
She gave me a small look of encouragement, obviously knowing who I was. I was the new girl after all.
A loud creak cut through, and I averted my gaze once more as a heavy door at the far side of the room opened. Every woman straightened instantly, readjusting their posture. I did the same, unsure what I was even doing or what was expected of me, so I simply followed their lead.
Josiah strode into the room, his steps measured and deliberate.
Unlike last night, he wore white from head to toe.
Beside him was another woman dressed in the same white dress the rest of us wore.
Her hair was also smoothed back into the same low bun and she had a small bandage over her right eyebrow.
But unlike the rest of us, she held her chin high. No lowered eyes. No submissive posture.
And the way several women looked at her with reverence bordering on envy told me she was important.
She smiled warmly at Josiah, then continued toward the table, standing behind the chair at the head. Only then did she bow her head, but only slightly, her analytical gaze sweeping over each of us, as if looking for inadequacies.
“Good evening, my little lambs.” Josiah smiled gently as he held his arms out.
“Good evening, Father,” everyone said in unison. Except for me.
Of course, he picked up on that, his dark eyes narrowing on me.
“Good evening, Father,” I replied softly.
“Good evening, Seraphine.” He gave me a look I couldn’t quite explain, then turned his attention to the rest of the group.
“For those who haven’t heard, God has chosen another lost soul in need of redemption.
This is Seraphine. She’s one of you now.
Our ways may be new to her, so I trust you’ll help me show her the way. ”
“Yes, Father,” all the women said in unison, many of them smiling at him with pure adoration.
Like he hung the moon himself.
It made my stomach churn.
“Good.” He held his hands out to the side once more, as if he were the second coming of Christ and we his mindless sheep.
I supposed that was what he wanted us to be.
“I know I promised you all a family dinner tonight, and we will have one. But first, a bit of unfortunate business has come up that requires my immediate attention and your assistance.”
I glanced around, trying to gauge the others’ reactions to this, unsure what it meant. But most of them seemed unaffected. In fact, some of them looked excited, Tabitha included.
“If you would all follow me to the chapel.”
He started toward the same doorway he’d come from, and we turned, following him through another maze of corridors.
The farther we walked, the colder the air became. The polished wood floors eventually gave way to dark stone, something ominous settling deep into my bones.
I tried to memorize everything.
Every hallway.
Every staircase.
Every portrait.
After leading us through a few more turns, Josiah led us down a hallway with a set of stained-glass doors at the end. He opened them wide, allowing us to enter the sanctuary.
But it wasn’t like any church or chapel I’d ever been in. It may have had a few rows of pews and ornate stained-glass windows, but that was where the similarities ended. The altar didn’t feel like a place to pay homage to God. It seemed like a place of sacrifice. Of penance.
Of correction.
And as I followed the procession of women down the aisle before forming a line in front of the altar, I knew that was precisely what it was.
Because kneeling on the altar was a hooded figure.
Large.
Motionless.
Restrained.
Every nerve in my body lit on fire, panic clawing at me. I stole a glance up the line of women, meeting Sarah’s eyes once more. She didn’t look frightened or surprised. More resigned than anything else. Like she already knew what was going on. Or worse, she’d seen it before.
I looked forward once more, studying the hooded figure. Something about him seemed familiar.
Broad shoulders.
Sculpted arms.
Scraped knuckles.
Just like Henry…
I fought to swallow down the sob that nearly escaped at the thought, my heart hammering so violently I was confident it was about to burst out of my chest.
It couldn’t be Henry. No way. Josiah removed the tracker. Henry had no idea where I was. Josiah taunted me with that information last night.
But Henry was smart. So was Blake. Like I’d told Sarah… He’d stop at nothing to find us and bring us home.
My stomach churned at the thought. As desperate as I was for Henry to put an end to all of this, I didn’t want it to be like this.
I had a taste of what kind of monster Josiah was last night.
If that was Henry bound and kneeling with a hood over his head, I could only imagine what kind of “correction” he might be forced to endure.
Josiah moved gracefully to the front of the chapel, positioning himself behind the hooded man like a pastor preparing to deliver a sermon.
“My lambs,” he began softly, his arms extended wide once more. “This man entered our sanctuary with violence in his heart.”
His tone was calm. Measured.
That somehow made it worse.
“He believes your bodies belong to men like him. Men who take. Men who covet. Men who poison.”
He paced slowly along the altar, his hands clasped behind him.
“Tell me, my lambs…” His dark eyes swept across us, all dressed in white like the lambs he called us. “How many of you were harmed by men before God brought you here?”
“I was,” a voice answered immediately, stepping out of line.
It was the woman I saw earlier at Josiah’s side.
“And me,” Tabitha said, stepping forward.
“He saved me,” said another woman.
“God led me here,” exclaimed yet another woman.
All I could do was stare in complete and utter disbelief.
This couldn’t be real. This wasn’t happening.
This had to all be some horrific dream. Didn’t these women realize what was going on?
They’d been abducted by Josiah. Beaten into submission.
Brainwashed into believing whatever lies he fed them at the expense of their own humanity.
I recalled what Sarah told me through the wall last night. To hold on to my humanity because once I lost it, I’d become one of them. One of his sheep. Blindly obedient.
Just like so many of these women.
“The outside world feeds on women,” Josiah said gently. “It dirties you. Uses you. Discards you.” He rested a hand on his chest. “But here, with me, under my protection, you are safe.”
I nearly barked out a laugh at the ridiculousness of his assertion, but he truly believed it. And that made him absolutely petrifying. That he honestly believed he was protecting us. Many of these women did, too.
“But alas, I’m just a vessel for the Almighty. It’s up to Him to decide whether this man, this heathen, deserves mercy.”
Then Josiah grabbed the hood and ripped it off.