Page 8 of The Devil's Viking

“Yes – yes, but –”

“And you failed to make all checks according to protocol that I specifically demand of my trusted Guardians?”

“Yes. But Master –”

Gideon nodded at Guardians Adam and Solomon, who had appeared as if out of thin air. Without a word, they marched forward, grabbed Jonah under his armpits, and hauled him away down the stairs without grace or care, banging his legs on the cement and the railings. That was when he realized that they had been standing there the whole time, just around the corner, waiting for Gideon’s signal.

Which meant that Gideon had decided that somehow, Jonah was fully to blame for Iris vanishing into the winter night; he’d decided it from the beginning. He’d entered the women’s room with his mind made up that Jonah was the problem, so it was Jonah who was going to take the fall.

And what a fall it was going to be.

“No!” he screamed, losing all control and dignity, frenzied with terror. “No, Master! I didn’t help her! I’dneverhelp her! Please –”

Gideon, Michael, and the women all listened as the keening got quieter and farther away, then fell totally silent. Michael had his head down again, cursing his stupid mistake of looking up without being told, praying hard that it didn’t result in punishment. He stayed still, his knees aching on the biting, freezing floor, but not daring to budge an inch. If Guardian Jonah had been declared the one to blame, all Michael had to do was not make a mistake. Another one.

“Guardian Michael.” Gideon’s voice was soft again, but Michael knew that some of his Master’s words resembled velvet jewelry boxes: warm and welcoming, then they slammed down on you, ripping off your fingers. “Raise your eyes.”

He did, and met Gideon’s blue gaze with his usual surge of awe and amazement: despite Michael being afraid of wrath and retribution, Master was so pure, so beautiful, so inspiring! More than anything, Michael wished fervently to be his Right-Guardian, his most beloved Guardian, the man who was inside the Master’s circle of trust and confidence, who dined at the Master’s right hand and who knew his truest thoughts. Guardian Zachariah occupied this position now, but Michael hoped that ifhewas the one to find Iris, ifhesaved the situation before it spun out of control, maybe he’d move up the Guardian hierarchy. If he did, he’d be one step closer to Right-Guardian, to the golden circle of Gideon’s approval and love.

“Master,” he said with reverence. “What is your will?”

“To have you carry out a task for me, one that requires a quiet, careful approach. Don’t call any attention to yourself at all.” Gideon smiled and when he did, Michael swore that a halo appeared over his Master’s tousled blond head. “I need you to go to the police station in town.”

Michael nodded, though he didn’t understand why on earth anyone would involve the police. How would he explain a runaway woman-servant who escaped because she hadn’t consumed her sedating, pacifying drugs?

“Normally I’d send Guardian Zachariah,” Gideon said. “But he’s known in town as being from the Garden… but you aren’t. Not yet.”

Michael nodded again, thrilled beyond belief that for once, his newness was counting in his favor. It was true that he’d only been promoted to Guardian three months ago, and that he hadn’t left the Garden since he’d joined two years earlier. No way he was known in town, no way that he’d be identified by anyone outside the compound as one of Gideon’s trusted men. He was totally anonymous, to the point that he never even thought about his birth name now. His entire life before the Garden – his parents, his sister, his hooker ex-girlfriend, his pimp and drug-dealer days – had been firmly forgotten when the Master called him to serve at his side.

“There’s a police officer named Briley Cross that I need you to go visit,” Gideon said. “She has full access to the traffic cam footage, and I need you to get copies of it for me. I want to see all traffic going in and out of town for the past two days and nights.”

“Master?”

“You have a question?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Go on.”

“You don’t want traffic video of the bus that Servant Iris took out of town?”

“No. Guardians Aaron and Ezekiel will get the video from our contact at the bus station, just to see if Iris actuallydidget on the bus. If so, we’ll be able to see the bus number and destination from that tape.”

“But you – you think that maybe shedidn’ttake a bus?”

“I think,” Gideon said slowly. “That if she had taken a bus, we’d have gotten a phone call from our man at the station as soon as she’d appeared – that’s why he’s on the payroll, after all. Ialsothink that Iris planned this very, very well.Sowell, in fact, that it’s possible that she had a car waiting for her.”

“Ohhh,” Michael breathed. “Oh, I see, Master.”

“Yes. So I need you to change out of your uniform and take the truck to Walton. Park it far from the police station at the edge of the woods, and walk the rest of the way. Briley will be expecting you, I’ll see to it. She’ll fully cooperate with anything we need.”

“And she’ll have no problem helping us, Master, even though she’s a cop?”

“No.” Gideon gave him a grim smile. “She knows her place.”

Michael didn’t ask what that meant; he wasn’t even remotely interested. All he cared about was getting to this cop and then returning to Gideon with what he needed to get that dumb bitch Iris back where she belonged. If he helped do that, then his Master would be pleased with him, and Michael would be elevated and celebrated in the Master’s eyes. He’d be one step closer to all the love and glory he’d been promised ever since coming to the Garden.

Gideon lifted his chin, and Michael struggled to his feet, his legs numb and cold. As he watched his Master stride to the door of the women’s room and order them to get dressed and to their posts, he shook some life back into his limbs. Silently, he recited the Garden’s Prayer, written by Gideon himself:

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