Page 115 of Wanted

The Prophet forces me to relive everything that happened after that point.

Sometimes he even rewinds my memories, especially when they involve Chloe.

When the Prophet finally releases me from the memories, I gasp for air as if I’ve been drowning.

“Oh, my poor, poor, child,” the Prophet hums and strokes my hair tenderly. “You’ve been through so much since you were taken from me.”

Shuddering, I squeeze my eyes shut. The dim candlelight hurting them. My head throbs and aches with a terrible migraine.

A loud crack resonates off the walls and I flinch. The sound slicing right through my brain.

“Do you have any idea how much danger you were in?” the Prophet asks softly. But even with my splitting migraine, I recognize the underlying edge to his question. “You could havemet the same fate as Father McCall. You could have been taken from mepermanently.”

Another loud crack sounds out and I fight against the urge to bury my face in the Prophet’s shoulder just to relieve some of the pain.

After all, he’s the one that inflicted it upon me…

“Jeffrey, your repentance is complete. Stand and receive your new orders,” the Prophet commands as he continues to pet me.

“Yes, your holiness,” Jeffrey answers, tired and strained.

Eyes still squeezed shut, I hear Jeffrey grunt and groan as he gets to his feet.

“What will you have of this loyal servant, Your Holiness?” he asks without an ounce of irony in his voice.

“You and your holy brothers will destroy the vampires that have taken Alena from us,” the Prophet instructs with a mixture of anger and authority.

Dread rolls over me and I open my eyes to look at the Prophet. What did he learn from my memories? What information did I give him?

He doesn’t look back at me. Just continues to stroke and pet my head as he glares at Jeffrey.

“It will be done, Your Holiness,” Jeffrey responds obediently.

The Prophet smiles, showing his fangs, but the way he does it is the creepiest thing I’ve ever seen. “You will also bring Mother Alena’s body to me, unharmed. Not a hair on her precious head is to be misplaced. Do you understand? I want her alive and breathing.”

All the air in my lungs rushes out of me as if I was just punched in the gut. Mother Alena? Since when have I ever been aMother?

What does he plan to do with me?

I glance over at Jeffrey to see his reaction.

Standing tall with his shoulders thrown back, Jeffrey’s bare, muscular chest rises and falls heavily as blood streams down his body and drips from the whip still clutched in his hand.

Nostrils flaring as he meets my gaze, his eyes burn with undisguised hatred. Blaming me for everything. “Yes, Your Holiness, I understand. It will be done.”

The Prophet says, “Good,” but doesn’t sound the least bit pleased.

A moment later, the Prophet’s hand appears in front of me, and he gives a dismissive flick of his wrist. “In His name.”

Jeffrey bows his head, breaking eye contact with me, and says, “In His name.”

Then he disappears into thin air.

The gleaming puddle of blood where he knelt and stood the only thing left behind.

The Prophet’s fingers wrap around my chin and turn my full attention back to his face.

His creepy grin back in place and his black eyes smoldering at the edges with pleasure, he asks, “Now, my beautiful, precious child, what shall we do while we wait for him to bring you to me?”

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