The Choosing (29 page)

“How can that be true?”

“Because your Father says so, and because of who you are.”

Tears pooled in Carrington’s eyes and she pushed herself up off the grass. “Who am I?” Her scream echoed in the open field.

“His daughter,” Aaron said. She turned to see Aaron standing a couple feet away, the bright sun lighting his face. “His perfect, beautiful daughter.”

“I’m not. I’ve tried to be, but I’ve failed my father.”

“Not your earthly father, but the One who created you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“He has given you such power and calls you perfect.” Aaron smiled.

Carrington shook her head. “You’re wrong. Like I said, I’m none of those things.”

“You are.” Aaron moved toward her and she took a step back.

“How can I be what you say?” Carrington couldn’t hold back the rush of tears and they ran down her cheeks like rivers.

Aaron reached her and brushed her tears back with both thumbs. “Because He loves you. Because He loves you like no one else does.”

Carrington’s head fell onto Aaron’s shoulder and she wept. Her tears soaked his shirt and he held her close, gently stroking her hair. “Please don’t let the thing He loves so much be fooled by darkness.”

Suddenly Carrington felt like she was choking. She pulled away from Aaron and coughed against the sky. Water trickled over her lips and down her chin. The light turned dark as she coughed up a mouthful of water. She reached for Aaron, but he wasn’t there anymore. Nothing was there. The field, the trees, the wind, all of it was gone.

She snapped her head forward and water fell into her lap, soaking her dress. She opened her eyes to a dark cellar. The smell of dust and mold lingered on the damp air. Carrington turned her neck to see another girl nearby, hands strung above her head, her chin buried in her chest, barely breathing.

A smack echoed off the concrete floor and she moved her head to see a bucket rolling away from someone’s
feet
 
—someone tall whose figure was outlined by the single bulb swinging from the ceiling above her.

The figure bent down and grabbed Carrington’s jaw with a single hand.

“Time to find salvation, my dear.”

Water dripped off Carrington’s lips and she coughed up more of the liquid. Her face was drenched, her hair soaked. The shoulders of her dress were wet through to her skin. She shivered in the cold dungeon and longed to be back in the warm field with Aaron.

“I apologize for the excess of water; you were not responding,” Isaac said. He had moved to the long table that stood against the wall. His back was to her and he was busy with the contents of the tabletop. She heard a soft splash as his hands moved about.

“You should have known better than to sneak into places you don’t belong,” Isaac said.

“People will come looking for me,” Carrington said. The corners of her mouth hurt when she moved her lips. They were cracked and dried from being held open by the gag.

“I doubt it. People seem to think that the CityWatch vehicle escorting you home vanished.”

“You’re a monster.”

“You keep calling me that and it hurts my heart. Once you are redeemed from your sin, you will see me in my true form.” Isaac turned, holding a jug filled with liquid. He
whispered something over the contents and reached back to grab a funnel off the table. He walked toward the broken girl chained beside Carrington and knelt.

“What are you doing?” Carrington asked. Isaac ignored her and took the girl’s head in his hand, tilting it upward so her chin was pointed toward him.

“Stop. You’re hurting her.”

Isaac exhaled loudly, placed the container on the floor, and slid over to Carrington. He reached for the cloth that had been her gag.

She shook her head. “No, please . . .”

He stuffed the rough binding into her mouth and secured it behind her head. Then he moved back to his original task.

He placed the funnel between the girl’s lips and closed his eyes. “Lord of sacrifice and redemption, I present to You according to Your holy plan a worthless child in need of Your salvation. Save her from this cleansing if You see fit.”

He began to pour the liquid into the funnel.

The girl barely struggled. Carrington yanked at her restraints and screamed through her muzzle. Hot tears stung her eyes as she shook her head in disbelief. He was poisoning her, draining bleach into the girl’s throat; she could smell the toxic fumes from where she sat.

Isaac was murdering the Lint girl. Why? For some holy plan he believed he was fulfilling.

How many girls had he held here in this prison while she had walked and talked and eaten with Isaac up above?
Had they tried to cry out for help? Could she have heard them if she had truly seen the kind of beast Isaac was?

“Stop! Stop!”
she yelled, but it only came out in fuzzy huffs and Isaac didn’t even turn. Slowly he drained the last of the liquid into the funnel and then pulled it from the girl’s mouth. Her head swung down, bobbing on her neck, a round of frantic coughs echoing off the walls. She heaved and vomited nothing but clear liquid onto her lap and a string of it hung from her lips and dripped onto her chest.

Carrington was filled with rage and lost control. She yanked and pulled, tearing her body back and forth away from the post to which she was bound. She wailed through her gag, aware that it was useless. Violently, she shook and fought, praying that with enough effort she could break free and drive the first sharp object she found into Isaac’s chest.

Something pricked her arm and she tried to move away from the pain. Isaac held a syringe in his hand, and before she could respond her body started to feel fuzzy.

“Just something to calm you down,” he said. “You’ll hurt yourself flailing about like that.” He moved to her mouth and pulled on her gag. “I’m going to remove this. Don’t make me put it back in.” He removed the cloth from her mouth and her lips tingled when they touched. Everything tingled
 
—her legs, feet, waist, arms, hands, face.

“I know seeing the cleansing process for the first time can be alarming. I should have warned you first.”

“You poison them.” Carrington struggled to hold her head up and shook the dizzy state out of her eyes.

“I’m cleansing them from the inside out
 
—this one and all the others. Seven days of cleansing to rid them of their sins. I’m offering them salvation.”

“You’re murdering them.”

He frowned. “It’s not murder. I’m trying to save them.”

“And how many have you
save
d
?”

“God chooses who will be saved. None have proven worthy so far.”

“You murder them in the name of God?”

“Enough!” Isaac scratched his head with both hands and shuddered. “You
will
see the light and join me on the path of holiness. You
will
be my partner. Together we will cleanse the world. We will serve God and follow the way of the
Veritas
.”

Carrington felt her eyes growing heavy and she strained to keep them open. Aaron’s words echoed in her head.
“You have power inside you.”

“I will never be yours.”

Isaac turned from her and walked to the table. He paced back and forth, then turned and struck the table leg with a swift kick. It cracked and bent, but the table remained standing. “She doesn’t know what she’s saying. It will take her time to see.”

He was prattling to himself, his back to her. She could hardly feel her body as whatever he had given her flowed through her veins.

“Show her. Yes, show her the light.” He stiffened and walked back to where she was. He knelt in front of her
and propped up her head. Carrington could sense fear digging into her soul, but she was too numb to react.

“You
will
be mine,” Isaac said.

“No. I will never be yours.”

Isaac’s jaw clenched and his fist came flying out of nowhere. It connected with the side of her jaw and snapped her neck backward.

“You
will
believe, but first you must be completely broken.” Another blow came to the same side and she cried out as pain rippled through her teeth and down into the base of her spine. Her body was too drugged to fight back so she just absorbed the pain as another punch landed on her face.

She tasted blood and felt it running down her cheek. Her lip stung as it split open; her right eye, already heavy, was now impossible to open and she let the other one close as well.

He may have struck her again; she couldn’t be sure. All she knew was that she was surrounded by pain, grasping for relief, and drifting into darkness without being able to control any of it.

Isaac pulled his hand back and saw his fist was bloody. Carrington’s head hung bent to the side and he released his hold on her. Her body slumped backward. Had he known this was going to be so difficult, he wouldn’t have given her such a strong sedative.

It’s all right,
he reminded himself. She would rouse soon enough and they could continue their discussion then. He glanced at her broken face, blood streaming from her nose and dripping off her lip. Her right eye had swollen shut; it would be colored for a couple of weeks. He would need to come up with a good excuse for that.

He moved to grab a damp cloth and returned to wipe some of Carrington’s face clean. Her blatant denial of truth sickened him, but she was still his chosen partner, and over the past few weeks he had grown to cherish what they would one day share. Once she saw the truth, their life together would be rich in righteousness.

After cleaning her enough to see her soft skin, he moved to check on the second girl. He felt her throat and sighed. Nothing. He would need to call for assistance with the body. Isaac tidied up the cleansing instruments and walked up the stairs after reaching up to click off the overhead light as he went.

Pushing the bookcase back into place, he moved to his bedroom to change and scrub his hands. Blood swirled around the sink as his hands returned to the color of flesh. A nagging whisper pecked away at his brain and he tried to ignore it.

What if Carrington never sees the truth?

She would, of course; it was only a matter of time. He had been led to her for a purpose.

God wouldn’t give her to him only to make him suffer.

The inner voice of divine reason, his true leader, remained silent.

Would he be able to sacrifice his partner for the greater good? Isaac placed his hands on either side of the sink and shook his head.

Surely God wouldn’t ask him to give up what he had just received?

Could you give her to the seven days of cleansing?

Isaac looked at himself in the mirror and felt rage collide with his own stubbornness. He was about to argue when a knock sounded at his door.

“I’m busy!”

“Authority Rogue and some CityWatch guards are here to see you, sir,” the voice on the other side of the door said.

Duty always called at the most inconvenient times.

Remko stood beside Dodson and watched as Authority Knight strode to the door. He wore a strained smile and the look in his eyes made the hair on Remko’s neck bristle.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” Isaac asked thinly.

“Sorry to intrude without calling, but we have brought a team to sweep your home and property for any clues that might lead to the recovery of Miss Hale and my CityWatch guards,” Dodson said.

“Yes, you should have called first,” Isaac said, no longer smiling.

“We need to move as quickly as possible. The longer people are missing, the less likelihood there is of finding them.”

“Yes, of course. Well, then, by all means.” Isaac held open the door and Dodson and Remko stepped across the threshold.

“Remko here will lead the search inside the house while I take men to look around outside. We will be quick and as noninvasive as possible.”

“Please.” Isaac moved into the living room and motioned for a steward to bring him a cup of coffee.

Dodson turned to Remko and spoke in hushed tones. “This guy can be a real piece of work, so stay clear of him and move quickly.”

Remko nodded and motioned for four guards to enter the house. He sectioned off the house into quarters and set each one on his way. Remko would oversee and double-check every move they made. Something about the way Isaac eyed him made him uncomfortable and Remko moved quickly out of his line of sight.

He walked through every room, carefully scanning each area with his eyes, looking for anything that would lead him to Carrington. Over the last twelve hours, finding her had become his sole focus. He knew she was engaged to the man who sat like a statue in the next room, but that didn’t change the way his heart ached when he imagined what she might be going through.

He would never forgive himself if anything happened to
her. It was his job as a CityWatch guard to ensure the safety of the people, and of all people he wanted to keep safe, Carrington was at the top of his list. He may have obeyed orders by cutting off the growing flame before it landed them both in prison, but not a single night passed that he didn’t struggle to fall asleep because her face was embedded in his memory. Not a day went by that he didn’t recall the way her lips felt against his own.

To think that he might never again get to see the light that danced in her eyes or the way her hair fell in golden strands around her face . . . He couldn’t let that happen. Every instinct he had told him there was something in this house that would lead him to her.

The CityWatch moved quickly and efficiently, sweeping the outside and inside of the stately home, and after what felt like no time at all, each guard was reporting what he had found
 
—nothing. Remko ordered his men to look again and they did, a second and a third time, always coming back with nothing. One man found some strands of hair that may have belonged to Carrington, and another lifted a few matching fingerprints, but that was to be expected since the house belonged to the man she was marrying.

Remko cursed softly and questioned the intuition that was warning him about this place. He knew his men were the best, and after three thorough walk-throughs without viable evidence, he had no choice but to wrap the search. He moved into the living room, where Isaac was reading through a folder and sipping another cup of coffee. The
Authority member’s head came up and he gave Remko a contemplative look. “Anything?”