Page 37 of Spark of Madness

Sitting upright, I whip my head to see him on his knees beside the tub. Our eyes catch and lock; his are narrowed, staring with such intensity that I don’t think I could look away if I tried.

“What are you doing? Trying to drown yourself?” he huffs, anger tinging his features. “Suicide is a sin.”

From the corner of my eye, I catch the red swirl of blood from my neck mingled in the water as it swirls lightly in the ripples and flow.

“What difference would it make since I’m already a sinner? And I wasn’t trying to drown myself; I just wanted a moment of peace.” I jerk my shoulders, forcing him to loosen his grip until he releases the back of my neck. My skin burns where he held me too tightly over the fresh cuts.

He tilts his head. “Do you think you deserve peace?”

“I deserve nothing,” I sneer.

“Finally, we agree on something.” The crease in his forehead ripples as his eyes flicker in bewilderment.

My lips snarl as I lean my face toward his. “We agree onnothing.I meant that I deserve nothing that’s happened to me in this life. I didn’t deserve to be chosen for service. I didn’t deserve to be used and abused. I didn’t deserve to be called a sinner, and I most certainly don’t deservethis.”

His expression surprises me, softening instead of hardening. “You don’t believe you’ve sinned, do you?”

“I haven’t. Not in the way I view sin.”

“Sin isn’t open for interpretation,” his hand strokes down the back of my head, and that’s when I realize he’s still wearing the damned gloves.

Why didn’the take them off before reaching into the water?

Whydoes he wear them at all?

“It is when it requires me to put my life on the line,” I tell him.

“God’s requirements are clearly defined, and your role in this life is clearly defined. You defied your duties, Mercy. Argue it all you want, but you’re wrong.” He pushes to his feet and moves away, circling the tub. I follow him with my gaze. “You crossed a thick, dark, well-defined line in your role as a servant. The sooner you accept that, the more likely it will be that forgiveness will find you.”

“What makes you think I care about forgiveness?”

“It doesn’t matter ifyoucare about the fate of your soul.”

I pause. “Who does it matter to?”

He sighs, several beats passing before he speaks again. His eyes skim the length of my body, and I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows harshly. “You were right about that thin line; perhaps it’s fainter than I thought. I’ll wait in your room until you’re done.”

I watch as he leaves through the bathroom door, and I’m frozen, my fingers curled around the edge of the tub, my head permanently turned toward the door.

Whyis he talking about the fate of my soul?

Whydid he bring up the thin line?

Why did helift me from the tub if he truly thought Iwould try to drown myself?

I know why. I won’t pretend it’s because he cares about my life, because I know he doesn’t. It’s because it would deny him the opportunity to punish me, to drag me through the pomp and circumstance of the Trials of Dissension.

I can’t let him disarm me the way he threatens to. I can’t let my guard down, because I can already sense all the ways in which he could ruin me. He could ruin my mind, my heart, my soul. He could find his way through my armor. He could find his way into the depths of my being.

And I can’t live my last days with that kind of hope.

chapter twelve

Arlo

ISHOULD NEVERhave offered to be the warden.

I shouldn’t have put myself in this position with a fiery woman who inspires poetry…an attractive woman who inspires an inappropriate stirring within me.

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