Called to Order (40 page)

At his words, her body pulled tight as a bow and suddenly released all the pressure. She screamed out her pleasure, and Adam tensed behind her. His body quaked over hers as warmth spread from within. Her muscles locked and shivered, and her body seemed to fall away in a million pieces. Somewhere in the midst of all of that, Adam had removed his wrist and was now holding her in his arms.

The world began to slowly come back together. Her hands were pressed against his chest and her hips parallel with his as the softness of their lower bodies pressed together. Her legs were there, twisted and woven with his much longer ones. Adam softly touched her face and gazed at her with unrefined love and affection. There was such peace. A feeling of letting go, releasing every worry, every sensation, as if even gravity could no longer hold her there. She was floating away. She sighed. “So tired, Adam.”

“It is beginning, Anna. Rest. It will all be over soon.”

Chapter 28

After tending to his horse and returning her to her stall, Eleazar meticulously replaced his crop and reins to their proper place along the barn wall. The night was cool, and he enjoyed the peacefulness of the slight walk to his isolated home. The glowing lamp in the window outlined the silhouette of the man awaiting his return. He slowly traveled up the steps of the safe house, his home, and greeted his watchman, David.

“Good evening to you, David. How is our guest?”

“Good evening, Bishop King. Cain is well. He has been praying. He went peacefully to his cell and has not voiced any complaints of his treatment.”

“Good, good.”

“How was the ceremony?”

“As expected. We will have a new member to The Order by dawn I suspect.”

“Very well. I will walk with you down to check on our guest once more before I take my leave, sir.”

They walked through the home and turned down a narrow corridor that sloped below ground. The air became musky and cool as they stepped deeper below the earth’s surface. An oil lamp burned low in the distance outside of the cell where their guest was staying. Eleazar could hear movement.

“Perhaps he has finished his prayers.”

They moved closer to the cell and when they saw the prisoner, he was not sitting quietly in prayer, but pacing the small space. His body seemed corded with tension, and his motions appeared highly agitated. At their approach the man turned. “You have to let me go to her!” he said, not bothering with a greeting.

Eleazar folded his arms over his chest and gave the man a doubtful look. “Cain, you know I cannot permit such a thing.”

He only grew more agitated. “You don’t understand! I can feel her. She’s changing!”

“Yes. That is because she is now a mated female. She is no longer your concern.”

Cain growled and flung himself at the bars containing him. “I know she belongs to Adam. I am not after her in that way, but she needs me.”

“She needs only her mate.”

“Listen to me you stubborn
aesel
! I am telling you his blood will not be enough! I can feel her blood calling to mine. If you don’t let me go, she will die and my
breder
will lose her and then die as well. You have to let me out!”

“Watch your tone, boy. I am your bishop.”

Cain’s knuckles squeezed over the bars, popping bones and turning an unnatural shade of white. He breathed deeply and attempted to calm himself. When his eyes met the bishop’s, there was pain there, hopelessness. “Please.”

“You may go now, David,” Eleazar said, dismissing the guard. Once the other man was gone, he looked back at Cain. “It is unfortunate that you must suffer so. I am a holy man, yet I have no explanation for such a fate as yours. Your God is calling for you and I will try to take you to him as peacefully as possible. What you are feeling now is the beast within. You are growing
feeish
and soon you will feel your mind no more.”

“I am not
ferricked,
not deranged, I swear to you I am thinking perfectly clear. Something is happening, and my brother needs me! Anna needs me!”

“It is your instincts lying to you that have you so convinced.”

“No, you bastard, it is my mate! My brother’s mate! She is going to die, and it will be your fault, you
hesslich—
”

Cain fell to his knees and gripped his temples as excruciating pain distorted his face. Eleazar held out his palm a moment longer until he was sure the prisoner got the message. He was not leaving this cell. Ever.

As the bishop lowered his hand, he watched as Cain’s body began to spasm and fall to the ground, shaking and twitching from the aftershock of such an assault. Eleazar unlocked the cell and stepped over the tormented man. His shoes scraped over the dusty floor as he stepped close to Cain’s face.

“You see, my boy, while I have compassion for your suffering, my tolerance is thin. You will respect me in all matters, or you will find yourself in a tomb rather than a cell.” He carefully stepped out of the cell and relocked the bars. “Your pain will be over soon, son. Let’s not have to discuss this matter again.”

As Eleazar locked the corridor door and returned to his private quarters he let the stresses of the day wash away. He moved through his quiet house and frowned when he heard the prisoner’s voice bellowing from below. Perhaps the Lord would be merciful and carry the man through his path swiftly. It made absolutely no sense that Cain should be called to his brother’s mate.

He would be glad to see this day over, he thought as he undressed and pulled back his bedding. Hopefully he could find a full night’s rest this evening. Whatever had been disrupting his sleep was proving to be an irritant. He was not himself and knew the next few days would require a clear head and for him to be at his best.

* * * *

Vito pinched the amber tip of his cigarette and tossed the butt away from the door of the club. It was a quiet Tuesday night. Other than the regulars, there wasn’t much action. The girls were probably making shitty tips, but a slow week usually meant a busy weekend.

He waved to a patron with a terrible comb-over as he made his way out of the building and into the lot. Pathetic. As much as he loved the dancers, he could not imagine choosing their distant company over that of a wife’s. Most of the customers at Club Silhouettes were married, middle-aged, and upper-middle class. They were thirty minutes past the city limits, so they were close enough for the average suburban dads and husbands to sneak away for a night of voyeurism and be home before
The
Tonight Show
.

The dancers were sweet, nothing quite like the girls who danced at the city clubs, but Vito liked being away from all the hustle and bustle. Here, just off Route Thirteen, stuck between the Borough of Bristol and the condensed suburbs of Levittown, was exactly where he wanted to be.

The crowd rolled thick on Fridays and Saturdays, but the rest of the week he was paid to basically stand by the door and smoke a pack of cigarettes. The only problems that usually took place on a weeknight were someone losing their keys or needing a jump for their battery. Vito was fine with that level of responsibility.

Another customer left the lot, and Vito lit another cigarette. The overgrown weeds blew in the wind and litter tumbled along the curb of the small, broken highway. There weren’t many cars driving at this time of night on a Tuesday, but there were always those getting on and off the turnpike and the never-ending string of trucks delivering goods. A rig drove by, the hum of it downshifting filling the air. A train whistled from the tracks located behind the strip of warehouses bordering the opposite side of the median.

Vito looked at his watch. One fifteen, almost time to go. There were only two more cars in the lot.

Suddenly a collision of honking and skidding tires rent the air. Vito turned toward the overhanging bridge and tried to see the intersection a quarter mile down. Most likely some drunk, either that or a sleeper coming off a night shift, he thought. It was a dangerous intersection with the tractor-trailers getting on an off the turnpike.

The barreling of a loud engine echoed as it passed under the bridge. An old Ford truck whistled and pinged as it slowed and pulled into the lot.

“What the fuck?” Vito tossed his butt and watched the truck. Smoke bellowed out from under the hood. No headlights were on. Stalks of corn were tangled in the grill and some kind of rope dangled from the fender. Whatever was attached to that rope was long gone now.

The engine sputtered and hissed. Vito took a step to check on the driver, but the big truck lurched forward and he figured he’d better keep his distance. It slammed to a stop, the red break lights illuminating the dark lot. After too long of a pause, the driver finally seemed to put the vehicle in park. Vito wondered if he should go get the boss or call the cops. Whoever was driving this thing didn’t seem to be too with it.

The engine continued to run, but no one got out. Vito squinted at the cab of the truck. Someone was moving around inside. After deciding he should get some balls and go investigate, he heard the heavy squeak of the door open. “It’s called WD40, dude,” he mumbled as he took a careful step closer.

The truck was still running. The door slammed closed, but whoever was driving was short. He couldn’t see them over the hood. He took a few more steps and stilled. The driver was not short but a woman. She was actually tall for a female and beautiful.

The woman had long, toned legs. She wore a white skirt that reached her slender knees. She seemed to be fussing with the garment. Her thin waist was covered in a pale-yellow tank top and—hello—no bra. Her breasts filled out the top perfectly, two lush globes swelling under the soft fabric and pulling the thin straps over her creamy shoulders tight.

Vito took a moment to hike up his pants and readjust his belt. Why did he have to wear his STAFF shirt that was too snug? He wasn’t overweight, but this summer he’d had a bit more beer than he should have, and his gut was paying the price.

Her head was tilted and shrouded in long black hair, which fell in silky waves and shined silver at parts under the moon. She pulled her top, swung her head up and brushed the remaining strands of black from her face.

Dear God, she was stunning. Her long oval face seemed the perfect shade of ivory accented with the perfect features, long lashes, and a straight, petite nose. He took a halting step forward, and she spotted him.

“Oh, hello.” She smiled showing off her perfectly straight teeth as white as pearls, but it was her eyes he found most arresting. Her eyes, too white to be blue, the irises an unreal shade of gray, almost silver. She appeared to be staring back at him with two coins under those long sweeping lashes. “Hello,” he rasped.

“My name is Larissa. I’m from out of town.”

“What’s up, Larissa?” He could not think of anything else to say.

She frowned and briefly looked toward the sky. Shrugging, she turned back to him. “What place is this?” she asked, still smiling as she looked around the lot. Vito felt a shaming sense of humility that this beautiful creature was standing in such a filthy place. That was when he noticed her feet. They were bare.

“This is Bristol Pike. You’re at Silhouettes.”

“Silhouettes,” she repeated, testing the word. “Like shadows?”

“Sort of. It’s a club.”

“For games?”

“Not really. For drinks and dancing.”

“You have music?” she asked with visible excitement.

“How else would the girls dance?”

“Dancing,” she said as if just realizing something exceptional. “May I dance?”

“Uh, you’d have to talk to Steve about that. He usually has the girls fill out an application first. Then, if he thinks they’re decent, he lets them try out on a slow night.”

“Decent? Do you think my clothes are indecent?”

“No, I think your clothes are just fine. Maybe a bit too conservative.”

“Really?”

He didn’t mean to offend her, however she didn’t seem insulted. She seemed overly happy. Still he said, “Don’t get me wrong, I think you look real nice.”

“Why thank you…”

“Vito.”

“Thank you, Vito. I think we will be good friends.”

“Well, that would be just great, sweetheart. If you want to shut off your truck I’ll take you in to see Steve.”

She looked back at the truck and frowned. “I don’t know how.”

He frowned. “Wha…is the key stuck?”

“I guess.”

He walked passed her and opened the truck door. The engine was definitely running hot. He found the keys and gave them a quick twist and tug. The engine shut off with a hiss. As he stepped out, he saw a pile of blue fabric and what looked like a baby bonnet. He was about to ask her about the items but all thoughts flew out of his head when she placed her small hand on his arm and smiled up at him. “Thank you, Vito. God has blessed me with your friendship, and I am grateful.”