Twenty-Six

“Rebekah.”

The name floated through the air, but I didn’t register it as my own. Joseph stood up and backed out of his own pew before motioning for me to get up.

“Dee, go,” he whispered.

Elijah’s hand was outstretched in an act of kindness, but his eyes promised retribution should I do anything to step out of my role. My feet felt like lead as I climbed the steps, my eyes never meeting his. He grasped my shoulders as I reached him and turned me around to face the congregation.

I looked to the back of the room, where three large wooden crosses hung above the entrance. A trio of silver bowls—not unlike the one I’d seen overflowing with my own blood—sat atop a table near the door.

My eyes flicked to the words inscribed on Elijah’s podium. Past, present, and future. I wasn’t a particularly religious person. The way I saw it, God had given up on me the day I was born. But after suffering through a few masses with the Hoopers, even I knew that those words referred to more than verb tense. They referred to the three divisions of time, and sometimes to prophecies.

Prophecies.

I closed my eyes and reopened them, hoping that things would look different, that I wouldn’t be staring at an entire room filled with the number three.

I swiveled around to face the candles flickering behind me. Three separate and distinct flames danced in and out of each other’s paths. I stiffened as the final realization slammed into me. There were three of us stuck here. Three of us who were supposed to be on a three-day trip.

And tomorrow … tomorrow would be day three.

I was going crazy. I had to be, because the thoughts racing through my mind were completely illogical. Impossible. Luke’s obsession with the number three had nothing to do with what was happening. Nothing.

Elijah was still talking, his not-so-gentle squeeze of my hand reminding me to stay in the game.

Most of the congregation was on their feet, clapping. I hadn’t heard Elijah’s introduction, but judging from his followers’ reactions, they obviously approved of me. Of course they would. He could tell them all to drink battery acid and they would blindly oblige.

The applause died out and Joseph sat back down, mouthing the words “It’s all right” to me as he tried for a reassuring look. I didn’t need reassurance, but the fact that he thought I did had me taking a second look at Elijah.

Elijah’s brother—the sheriff this time—stood up and made his way to the back of the church. He collected three silver bowls and a long white scarf before making his way back toward me.

Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion, each movement around me deliberate and methodical. The three empty bowls were placed on the altar, and then Elijah carefully undid the button on the cuff of his shirt, his eyes never leaving mine as he rolled up his right sleeve.

“Smile, my love. This is the most important day of your life,” Elijah said as he grabbed my arm and pushed the sleeve of my shirt to my elbow.

The most important day of my life? I surveyed the faces staring at me. They all looked expectant, full of joy and promise. “I don’t understand,” I murmured.

Elijah’s hand lingered in the crook of my arm, his fingers tracing the veins leading to by wrist. With a nod to his brother, he grabbed onto my hand and turned it so my palm lay face up inside his. “Jared, would you please?”

His brother placed the white scarf over my forearm and wrapped it around twice, attaching the other end to Elijah the same way.

Elijah took one large step back toward the altar, our bound wrists forcing me to move with him. Then he leaned in, his free hand cupping the side of my cheek. “Today I will tie you to me in every way possible.”

I shook my head, the horror of what he was saying settling in. “You said this was about me meeting your family, about introducing me to your followers,” I choked out.

“I am introducing you … as my wife.”

I went to yank my hand free. “Don’t,” Elijah said. “Re-member, it won’t be you who suffers, but your friends.”

He side-stepped me over to where his other brother was shifting the bowls, aligning them perfectly beneath our bound wrists. It wasn’t until I saw the knife that everything finally clicked into place.

There weren’t going to be any traditional wedding vows. That would be too easy. Too normal. No, Elijah was going to blood-oath us; slit both our palms and mingle our blood so that our spirits, our essences, combined.

Terror took over as I fought back the urge to scream. Elijah placed a hand on my shoulder, gently stroking it like I was a skittish animal. He was fully enthroned in his role now—the charming, kind, strong-hearted leader of this great community.

“Easy, Rebekah,” he soothed.

The gentle tone of his voice had me shaking in fear, and I lost it. I jerked my wrist so hard that the fabric tore in two, the sheer force sending me stumbling backward. One of his brothers caught me and eased me upright, then gently nudged me in Elijah’s direction.

Elijah’s eyes were a shade of deadly I’d never seen before. His face was contorted, twisted and torn between anger and staying in character. It took him a second to regain his composure, but he finally did, the charming façade sliding back into place.

“I know you are frightened,” he said loudly enough for his followers to hear. “But you are amongst family now. There is nothing to fear.”

He circled his hand around the back of my neck and leaned in, his hushed words whispering across my ear. “Shall we try this again without the theatrics, Rebekah?”

I felt his thumb gently caress the side of my neck. It was a suggestive gesture, one Luke had done to me a thousand times. One that always ended in the same way—me on my back with Luke smiling down from above.

I smiled, and then knew in that instant that Elijah thought he’d won. His bad. “I’d rather lie with the devil than ever, ever, let you touch me.”

Elijah chuckled and dug his fingers into the back of my neck, dragging me closer until my lips met his. “Keep it up, little girl, and that’s exactly who you will be sleeping with.”