Suddenly I heard Carrie run up the stairs and I wanted to stop her from coming in but I felt so sick and like any little girl she was fast.
“Lissa? Are you okay?”
“I’m sorry, Carrie. I tried to stop him from taking the books away, but I had to obey.”
Carrie looked at the vomit warily, but then she ran to me and threw her arms around me. “I don’t think Joan of Arc would let that happen,” she said after a moment, her voice turning stubborn and angry.
“No. She wouldn’t. But—“ I swallowed. “The Ethereal spirits talked to Joan of Arc. That’s why she did those things. Don’t get yourself in trouble, okay? I’m all right. I’ve just had a lot on my mind. Why don’t you check on Mom and I’ll clean this grossness up.” I tried to lighten the mood.
“Yeah…” Carrie still had her stubborn face. She paused at the door. “I liked the Ethereal spirits who talked to Joan of Arc a lot more than the ones who talk to Father Joshua.”
“Me too,” I whispered. “But don’t tell anyone. I mean that.”
“I understand,” she said, and I felt like I was watching a tiny bit of my little sister’s childhood dying too soon.
Chapter Eight
Alissa
Before I knew it, the weeks had gone by and Father Joshua had taken control of my entire life. He had not touched me yet, but he summoned me often for my supposed “wand training”. He never taught me how to cast a single spell. Instead, he made me watch the priestesses ‘tend’ to him with their hands and mouths. He seemed to grow more comfortable every day with speaking explicitly to me, telling me that I would be his wife, and the only woman to bear his children. He told me he would also freely bring the priestesses in as often as he liked.
“You won’t complain, will you, Alissa?” he asked.
“No,” I said, which was true. It was painful and embarrassing to watch the priestesses serve him, but at least I wasn’t alone with him. But then, he would make me have a child with him, and my skin burned when I wondered if he would make the priestesses watch.
I can’t do this. I can’t do any of this. I want to die.
But if I killed myself, he would hurt my whole family…
We all had to do whatever he demanded.
In fact, he made it clear that if he wanted, he could do whatever he liked to me here and now, but he wanted me to pray for humility and obedience and learn to be a dutiful wife.
“You never talk to your family about what happens here, do you?” he asked me one day when it was over.
“No, sir, but would it matter if I did?”
“No. I am doing the will of the spirits,” he said. “Nevertheless…a loose tongue on a woman is a sin. You know that, I trust?”
“Yes, sir. I learned in school.”
In truth, I didn’t tell my parents because I was ashamed. I didn’t want to cause them any more pain. When I saw their faces, I thought they already knew, but they were trying to lie to themselves. They kept telling me that it was an honor, and I saw them trying to convince each other.
I hated how afraid I was of him. How much I shrunk away in his presence. If there was any hope of escape or fighting back, I would have done it.
But there was none.
Each day I prayed, not for humility and obedience, but for the strength to endure the situation that I knew was about to escalate. Once I married him, all the walls between us would dissolve and I would be his prisoner. All night, I would be trapped in a room with him and no one would help me.
Oh, how I prayed.
It didn’t seem to do any good. Not only did I not feel obedient or strong, I just felt more furious and trapped. I lost so much weight that I had to take in the wedding dress. The vomiting subsided a little, as my body seemed to grow too weary to fight, or at least that was how it felt. I was losing strength and I hated it.
Everything I owned and loved was either burned or moved into his house, so I had nothing left but my bed, candles, and a book on how to be a good wife that was written by Father Joshua himself. I didn’t even open it.
I started having dreams.
In these dreams, I was holding my wand with a sense of great confidence. I wasn’t afraid anymore. I could stand up to him, because I had just as much power as he did. I knew how to cast magic like the witches of the council, or the other wicked girls who went to witch universities, the ones who would be lost in the end times. I felt an amazing sense of freedom that made me feel like even if the world ended, oh, I would die free and there would be no regret in it, at least not when I thought of Father Joshua.
But there was also a sense in the dream that I was not alone. There were others protecting me. Giving me strength. It didn’t feel like Mom and Dad. As much as I loved them, I didn’t trust them to protect me against Father Joshua. This was something else.
Whenever I had these dreams, I would wake feeling a tiny bit of hope, and then the day would slam into my gut and I would remember that I might have to watch a priestess, another young woman with dead eyes, reflect my own future back at me. No one was protecting me, and my wand was tied to Father Joshua, so if I ever used it, he would know.
Soon it was the eve of Councilwoman Garcia’s visit, the days before the wedding shaving away. Mom got out of bed to join in our dinner.
“I’m fine,” she said. “I want to see Alissa. We have so few days left before the wedding and the new baby.”
Mom was trying her best to remain cheerful. I tried my best to remain cheerful too. Neither of us wanted to scare Carrie.
But I knew my little sister hadn’t forgotten Father Joshua taking her books away. She’d been sulking lately, clutching her Joan of Arc doll, which now was not just for a game between us before dinner, but accompanied her everywhere. She was holding her now, tucked under her arm as she picked at the spaghetti.
I saw her eyes dart between us nervously and then she said, like she was trying to act grown up, “Um—excuse me, Dad. Mom. I have to make an important announcement.”
“Oh?” Mom smiled. “And what is that?”
“I saw an angel today at school. I think it was an Ethereal angel. It was all white and flowy. And it told me that…um…Alissa can’t marry Father Joshua.” She rushed out the last part, knowing this wasn’t likely to go over convincingly, but she pressed on when no one said anything right away. “The angel says that you need Lissa to help with the baby, so she can’t marry him. And I think this was a very important angel. They were wearing a crown and a flowing dress and—” She was desperately trying to think of more ways to describe an authoritative spirit.
“Oh, Carrie…you have a great imagination,” Dad said. “But it sounds awfully convenient. I know you don’t want Alissa to go away…but she’ll be right here in the village still and you can—”
“It’s not that!” Carrie’s face turned red with emotion. “I don’t like Father Joshua!”
“Carrie!”
“I know I’m supposed to but when he came and took the books away he was—he was being wicked!”
“Carrie!” Mom covered her mouth.
Dad stood with grim reluctance. “Carrie, I’m very sorry you’re upset about Alissa but you know that you can’t ever say such a thing. Come here right now.”
“Are you going to spank me?” Carrie yelled, defiant.
“You know I have to. I don’t want to do it but I’m your father and you haven’t given me any choice about it. Come now or I’ll have to send you to bed without dinner as well.”
Carrie started sniffing but she stood up and bravely walked over to Dad. Dad almost looked nervous like he was being watched. As far as I know we weren’t monitored in our homes by Father Joshua or the other elders but it made me wonder if he’d received a talking-to lately about my disobedient attitude. He gave Carrie ten whacks that I knew must have really hurt a little. Her brave face melted into sobs.
When it was over, he looked sick. “There are much worse things that could happen to this family, Carrie, and I need you
all to understand that!”
There was a pounding on the door. Mom went pale. I’m sure I didn’t look any better. Dad shoved his chair back and answered.
A moment later, he showed Father Joshua in.
“Stop crying,” Mom hissed at Carrie, panicked.
“I’m sorry, I’m interrupting your dinner,” Father Joshua said. “Spaghetti is one of my favorites. It smells amazing. Should I refer to it as spaghetti, or ragu? I’m not sure of the difference. Maybe Alissa will make it for me before long.” He gave me a smile that didn’t hint at all of the sinister person he became when it was just me and the priestesses, but whenever I saw him now I thought of him naked, his pale limbs spread out, reaching out a hand to grip the head of the nearest priestess and pushing her toward the rigid appendage between his legs…
“I need to excuse myself,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
I rushed to the bathroom and threw up the spaghetti, the tomato sauce burning all the way back up until my eyes watered. But worse was the now-familiar scrambling in my mind, wondering why he was here.
I heard his voice, still friendly as he talked to Mom and Dad. Every minute I needed to recover seemed to take years. I didn’t want to anger him or frighten Carrie too much.
I hurried back and now he was sitting down in one of the two spare chairs, Mom waddling toward him with a plate. She shouldn’t be on her feet but Dad certainly could not be seen serving another man in his wife’s presence. Women were the keepers of the kitchen.
“You are too kind!” Father Joshua said. “I couldn’t ask for better in-laws. And that’s why I wanted to bring you a very special gift.” He took a small box out of his coat and slid it to Dad. “Take a gander at that. What do you think that is?”
Dad opened the box and it held bullets, but they were made from a strange and beautiful red gem, like glittering blood.
“A weapon,” he breathed. “For killing…what?”
I saw Mom’s hand twisting her napkin, bunching it, betraying fear.
“Everything,” Father Joshua said. “We’ve found a way to capture the purification spell in a bullet.”
“How?” Dad demanded.
“It’s too complicated to explain, but just know that these bullets can de-power and kill werewolves, vampires, incubi and demons. From a distance. No more stakes and arcane rituals…no more guessing what you’re dealing with. Load your gun up with these and you can always protect your family. They are limited so use them selectively. Maybe I can get rid of a few particular nuisances. And I can’t wait to show off this method to the council. They’ll pay dearly for every bullet.” He looked at me. “I’ll keep you in style, sweetheart.”
“Th-thank you,” Dad said. “This is an honor.”
“You’re welcome.” Father Joshua looked pleased with himself as he ate a small plate of spaghetti. Carrie was hastily swiping tears from her eyes. I couldn’t eat a bite and my parents were struggling to choke down food as well, but I didn’t know quite why the bullets had cast such a pall. It was a good thing that Dad could protect my family from demons…wasn’t it?
Or does it matter at all?
Father Joshua wiped his chin with the napkin. “Delicious,” he said. “Thank you for those excellent victuals, Mrs. Johns. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow, sweetheart, to represent our community to that woman. She’ll be impressed by our weaponry, at least I can say that.”
The demon is already among us.
Chapter Nine
Alissa
Councilwoman Garcia didn’t look like Maleficent.
I had never seen anyone like her before, but I thought she could be a character in one of the books Father Joshua took away.
Usually, the council sent warlocks here, not witches, and if we did receive women, they were old-fashioned crones out of a storybook, with frizzy gray hair and gnarled hands that matched the wood of their wands.
I was lined up with the other chosen members of the order to greet her with a basket of fruit and honey from our village in my hands. I wore my hair uncovered outside of our house for the first time I could remember. I wasn’t supposed to say anything unless she asked me a question, but then I was supposed to use a bright, cheerful voice. I could feel Father Joshua breathing down my neck, standing just behind me.
This wasn’t really anything like being in a play. I was too terrified.
“Good morning, Councilwoman,” he said, bowing to her before shaking her hand. “Welcome, we certainly are flattered to be receiving you. I’ve heard you’re the bright young star of the witches’ council.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” She was sharp, no-nonsense, with her black hair in a short bob and lipstick. She was wearing a pencil skirt and a short cape, and a silver ring that looked like a spider. Her wand was holstered at her hip, the tip jutting out in a way that seemed defiant and almost flirtatious, and I felt dowdy and childish in the black dress that fell past my knees and my hair in long braids. I was allowed to carry my wand, but I had to keep it in a leather satchel fastened around my waist.
She shook all of our hands, flashing a smile that was lovely but had some hardness behind it. “Paola Garcia, nice to meet you…just Paola, please…thank you for this…” She took the fruit basket from me and handed it off to another woman who had been driving her car. I was already stunned to see women driving cars. Was she a normal human? No, she also had a wand. Human or witch, either would have seemed equally astonishing. I had always heard that cars made witches so sick that they couldn’t even get inside of one for more than a few minutes or their magic would be tainted and weakened, and they may even lose their ability to bear healthy children. Only men were strong enough to endure a car ride.
“Let’s get down to business. Please, show me around, Mr. Kellen.”
Father Joshua looked slightly annoyed that he was not addressed as ‘Father’. “The women of the community have prepared a breakfast for—“
She cut him off. “I told you in my message, no meals. I am here strictly for business. Can you show me to the schools?”
“Ah—yes, of course.” He added, “After that, I have something to show you that I believe the councils will be particularly interested in.”
“All right, well, we’ll get to that later,” she said dismissively.
Father Joshua definitely seemed annoyed with her and the fact that she wasn’t in awe of him. I had never seen anyone treat him like this before, ever, even though members of the council came here every year.
It seemed to make him a little smaller, a little more like someone I could defy.
Maybe she was the answer to my prayers. Could it be?
She toured the grounds, commenting that everything seemed “clean” and when we went to the school she noted that the children seemed “well behaved”. She took notes on a pad. She seemed almost sarcastic, like it was a bad thing for children to behave.
I liked her. I didn’t even know her, but I had never seen sharp confidence in a woman before. She wasn’t afraid of Father Joshua; in fact, she seemed to actively disdain him and there was nothing he could do about it.
“I’ll look at the market and the healer’s next,” she said, before glancing us over. “It shouldn’t take me long. And then I’d like to speak to some residents, alone.”
What if I told her the truth?
Would she take my side?
In my gut, I thought she might. She could tell me I didn’t have to marry him. How would that feel?
It was only a dream.
“Of course,” Father Joshua said. “And then we can discuss our arrangements.”
I had heard him complain before that our community was singled out by the council for inspection. When I was a kid I didn’t remember council members coming here and poking around, but there must have been an incident. I wondered what the ‘arrangements’ were. It surely had something to do with the deal made a few years ago when Father Joshua sold his ‘purifying’ spell to the council and used it to fund the publication of his
books, enhancement to his house and to the community library and temple.
He must be talking about those crystal bullets.
Father Joshua seemed to have magic that no witch or warlock in the whole world had figured out. He said that was because the Ethereals told him what to do, and maybe it was true. Paola made a reluctant nod.
Or will she take his side? Because she needs the magic?
I could feel my chance slipping away, my resolve weakening as quickly as it appeared.
She was a little disapproving of the healer’s building, noting a lack of equipment and herbs that she said were needed for women’s health.
“Do the women here receive screening for cervical cancer?” she asked Father Joshua sharply.
“Yes, of course.”
“I see no evidence of it. I know you don’t send them out to human medical facilities.” She wrote something down. “I am really disappointed in my colleagues for not noting this before, but it ends now.”
Father Joshua shot a look to an older woman chosen for the welcome committee, and she piped up, “Councilwoman, of course we get cancer screenings! You can check the records! No woman here has ever died of cancer.”
“I don’t trust your records,” Paola retorted.
“It’s all right, Gerta,” Father Joshua said, benevolent now. “I will not risk any of my flock getting sick. Please, tell me the requirements the council feels are necessary, and I will do my best to accommodate them.”
All of this could be a lie, I thought. I had never been so close to him before. But he probably had his own reasons for not following council rules. I still struggled, despite my personal fear of him, over whether he was still the true prophet.
Now, it was time for us to speak to Paola alone. Father Joshua tried to show her to the community center but she requested a room in the library, and he saved me for last. I had to sit outside the room for two hours while the others spoke to her, one by one. Father Joshua sat with us. The others read books while they waited. I was too nervous.
Take Me Slowly (Forever in Their Thrall Book 1) Page 5
