Desecrating Solomon: Book 1 of 3 (Desecration Series) (8 page)

BOOK: Desecrating Solomon: Book 1 of 3 (Desecration Series)
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She carefully lowered.

Oh God. More whimpers fought to mix in with her labored gasps. Then her bare bottom touched down, and shards of heat shot to the base of her skull, making her nearly vomit. A wave of dizzy hit her and she swayed left, fighting not to pass out. Visions of Solomon having to pick her naked body up off of the floor compelled her to stay conscious. 

Five whole minutes later she sat there under the spray of the shower now lukewarm, realizing how foolish she’d been to
need
a shower. What was she doing? She was a bucket of bleeding raw insides. There was no cleaning this. There was no bringing comfort to these wounds, no mending this kind of broken mess it had all somehow become. 

She sat there in the growing misery. What now? She needed to wash her body and hair but the odd and urgent need to die was suddenly more pressing. It gnawed at every pore and crevice in her mind. Everything was too broken and beyond repair. She was at the threshold she’d spent years to arrive at and was not even prepared. The Redemptrix Vessel was not ready to obtain the sacrifice.

All the years of training and suffering slowly seeped from her pores and leaked out of her eyes along with her stubborn courage. She suddenly wished she was back in the bed. His bed. Dreaming dreams that ended it all.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?”

Sweetheart.
Oh God, that voice. Damn that voice. The power in it mixed with the hot water, the pain, the agony, the despair, making it impossible to deny. She fought to keep down the bad things it resurrected in her until her chest and throat burned and ached from the pressure.

“Chaos please, answer me.”

She sat there trembling, palms on both walls as her entire body shook with the effort to hold her mind and body together. She needed to answer him but if she opened her mouth it would explode out of her.

She lost the battle and a long sob wrenched free.

The bathroom door banged open and the shower curtain yanked aside. But Chaos couldn’t move, she could only sit there, head too heavy to lift, bracing her hands against the wall. If she let go, everything would crash in on her. All of it.

“I got you,” he said, putting strong arms around her body.

The feel of power in his firm embrace and those three words tore her soul asunder in one second. And all the things that could never reach her, never touch her, suddenly speared her through and through. The sobs came like resurrected ghosts, screaming their secrets.
Broken!
they all screamed. Torn! Burned! Tortured! Wave after wave of buried tragedy that wasn’t hers and was, raged out of her.

And just beyond all this, she felt it. The looming wrath of the Order. She had failed, ultimately the fault would be on her no matter who was responsible. She’d take the blame as she always did. The Redemptrix Vessel was the medium between the sacred and desecrated. And not only had she failed Master, she’d failed the queen, and the Order. And that didn’t come without penalty. Rights would have to be strictly wronged before the planned restitution could continue. She was sure of that.

Chapter Eight

 

Solomon had never experienced such torture while this woman released such vile trauma. All he could think was
what in God’s name has this woman been through?

The amount of devastation in her soul-wrenching sobs would haunt his days and nights forever. He’d never not feel them or hear them. Ever. He could only hold on to her tight, uselessly shhhing, shhhing, over and over as the unfixable suffocated them both.

Finally, her screaming sobs reduced to pitiful wails that came on every jagged breath that jerked her body until she literally passed out on him.

Solomon turned off the shower with one hand and yanked a towel from the bar behind him. Covering her while careful not to look, he lifted her in his arms and carried her slowly to the bed. When he tried to lay her down, her arms became iron bands around his neck, forcing him to lay with her. Shoving the blanket between her naked body and him, he adjusted her until she lay comfortably in his arms. Pulling the light quilt from the foot of the bed, he managed to get her covered entirely.

When he was halfway comfortable himself, he took several deep breaths trying to wrap his mind around what was happening and what to do about it. There he was, lying in his bed with a complete stranger involved in some horrific shit. And he realized that there was something not right about her. He wasn’t sure what yet but her “I’m normal you know” was when it hit him. She wasn’t normal. But what was wrong with her was the question? She didn’t seem mentally challenged. But psychotic was becoming a probable diagnosis at least in some degree. The shit that went down in the bathroom made it crystal clear that the trauma was deeper than this one horrific event.

God, what had he stepped into?

For the next two hours, Solomon laid with her, humming the same tune he’d hummed the first time when she had bad dreams. He tried to keep himself awake by mentally going over all the crap he still needed to do between helping this woman and tending to Miss Mary. It was a real bad time for this zoo debacle he had going on. Twelve traps would need checking on top of everything else. His overachieving ways were biting him in the ass now. He’d just not bait them all again.

Solomon froze at the sound of scratching on the front door. He lay there, still, listening. The scratching came again, sending his heart into his stomach. Very carefully he untangled himself from Chaos and tiptoed to his gun. Avoiding the floorboards that creaked, he made his way to the door, steering clear of the window. Getting the gun ready in one hand, he quickly undid the dead bolt and threw the door open with a bang, barrel aimed.

His gaze quickly dropped to a pure white wolf sitting there with his head angled at him just beyond the screen door. The oddity only added to the hammering in his chest as he stared at it before leaning his head closer to the door. Solomon took his time combing every tree in the vicinity for its owner. 

The wolf made small whining noises in his throat now. “Shoo,” Solomon whispered. “Get.”

In
wolf
that apparently meant welcome my friend, this porch is your home, lay and rest a while. Solomon checked the vicinity again for its master. No wolf that beautiful and that tame didn’t have one. What did they want and what were they doing this close to his home?

Solomon shut the door and locked it, fully expecting its owner to show up for it if it was merely frolicking in the woods, which he doubted. He put the shotgun next to the bed and turned to check on his sleeping patient, jumping at finding her sitting up in bed, faced forward, nakedness exposed.

Jerking his head to the right, he used his peripheral vision to guide his steps toward the bed. “Chaos?” She didn’t move, and Solomon snapped a couple of times toward her. “Hey,” he whispered.

“The Desecration of desecrations must go on,” she gasped.

Dread pulled his gaze more toward her, needing to see if she were sleeping. “Chaos?”

Her sudden scream jolted him into action and he got on the bed from behind and grabbed her shoulders. The second he touched her she gasped like she’d been holding her breath.

Jerking toward him, Solomon barely managed to escape seeing her breasts.

“You’re dreaming,” he gasped, holding a hand up to his face to block the view. “Was just a dream. Please cover yourself.”

She made a shocked sound as though just realizing.

“You sat up and said something then started screaming. Are you covered?”

“I… yes. What do you mean? I don’t… I can’t scream.”

He finally looked her way, confused. “What do you mean you can’t scream? Who said you can’t?”

She moved the towel more securely over her chest and Solomon’s gaze fell on the discolored skin near her neck. Was there was any part of her that hadn’t been abused? “I mean I… I physically can’t.”

“Well you just physically did.”

“I did?” she whispered, sounding amazed. “I screamed?”

“You did,” he nodded, sitting slowly on the bed several feet from her, still shaken. “You said… something about desecrations.” She lowered her head then. “You remember?”

She shook her head. “Not really.”

He turned on the bed, facing her more. “Chaos… talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”

“What do you mean?” She asked this without looking at him.

“I mean, where are you from? Where is your family? Aren’t they worried about you?”

She shook her head. “Don’t have family.”

He shook his head. “What are you hiding Chaos? I know you are hiding something.”

She looked at him. “How do you know?” she asked, seeming curious.

“I can feel it in my gut and hear it in your voice.”

She seemed satisfied with that and looked at her lap. “Can I… promise to tell you later?”

“When?”

She gave a small shrug. “When it’s… not so fresh.”

“I just want to know where your family is.”

“I can’t,” she whispered.

The distress in her voice made Solomon feel like a dick. But he had to know. “When do you want to go home?” She again shook her head. “You have a home, right?”

She responded with more mute staring into her lap.

Solomon gave a sigh. “I’ll make a deal with you. You get to stay here for two days and then you have to go home. Or talk, one or the other. Deal?”

She didn’t answer right away then finally nodded. “Deal.”

****

Two days. Chaos had two days to come up with some kind of plan. Plan for something. She didn’t know what. She didn’t know how. She wasn’t even prepared as a woman, how was she supposed to? And the way he acted around her nakedness wasn’t helping. He didn’t seem the least interested in that aspect of her which added more worries and fears to her problems. That was not once considered, not by her. All men wanted her.

She knew a few things and used those to help her. The window for the sacrifice was a month this time. The sacrifice needed to be prepared. How long did Master want or need for that?

Even as she wondered it, the sound of steps fell on the porch outside. Her breath stilled in her chest and she became like a corpse in the bed, straining to hear. Maybe it was Solomon. Back already. He’d just left only thirty minutes before to go check on the old lady. And his traps. He could have forgotten something. 

The urge to hide, hit her. The bathroom. She crept her crippled limbs to the edge of the bed realizing she’d never make it quickly. Scratching sounds on the door froze her in her tracks. She angled her head, listening. The whine and yelp of a dog came next. Heart hammering, she detoured her slow steps to the window near the door.

Finally at the edge of the window and covered in sweat from the walk, she stifled her ragged gasps then barely moved the curtain with a trembling finger. A flash of white fur prompted her to open it more. A wolf. She gave a gasp at the brilliant white coat with eyes the color of… Solomon’s.

Hobbling in agony to the door, she unbolted the lock and opened it. Holding onto it with all her might now, she stared at the wolf, suddenly realizing it could be dangerous. At seeing her, it sat and angled its head with little whining sounds.

She gasped, looking around for its possible owner. “Are you hungry?” she suddenly wondered. “Is that it?”

He crawled his way to the door, staying on his stomach then pawed the air.

Chaos laughed. “Are you trying to shake hands?” She gasped as she took another step to open the screen door. Very slowly she knelt down, her muscles quaking. And just how was she going to get up? “You’re a nice boy?” It occurred to her then why he was so nice. “Are you Solomon’s?”

She gasped a laugh when the dog whined more, putting his snout on both paws before lifting his head up and giving a bark that startled her. “Okay, okay.” The dog suddenly slipped inside the house and Chaos gasped. “What are you doing?” she whispered, crawling her way inside and shutting the door. Now to manage locking it. “I bet Solomon doesn’t like you inside.” She clapped her hands. “Get over here,” she called, smiling.

The dog went to the fireplace and laid himself before it, then lowered his head and closed his eyes. He was ignoring her! Chaos stared at him with her jaw dropped. She looked up at the door handle and used it to drag herself back to her feet. Oh God. The need to vomit hit her as the pain pulsated through her muscles and head.

Angling her head to her company she gave a half smile, “Aren’t you right at home? Do you help Mr. Solomon catch his animals? Is that it?” Chaos made her way from one piece of furniture to the next until she was at the bed. The dog suddenly got up and jumped on the bed with her. “Really? Is that where you sleep?” she said with shallow breaths. “Right with Mr. Solomon? Is he a good master to you? I bet he is,” she murmured, closing her eyes and scratching the fur at his ear. “Did he send you here to watch over me? He is very protective, isn’t he?”

Chaos’s cheeks warmed at remembering how he’d helped her get the gown on. She was curious at how he behaved around her nakedness. She’d hoped to see him interested but he seemed extremely… not, making it an obvious point to
not
look at her nakedness.

As part of her training, she’d been required to please all the men in the Order. But they were not permitted to touch her virginity or even speak to her. They put their life rods as Master referred to them in her rectum or mouth, the only two orifices permissible. Grandmother called them penises and Chaos heard the men call them cocks. She called them devil larva. They seemed so harmless when small and soft until demons possessed them. Then they bit her like serpents everywhere they went.

It was hardest when she was required to please so many men. It always made it so she couldn’t use the bathroom for several days and then Master would have to use that small black hose to make her go. It always made her throw up. But those times only happened once a week on Desecration days. 

She was so happy to have that training done. Now, the only one she was required to pleasure was Master. And she didn’t mind that. He was brutal but she was still more comfortable with only him. And even when he hurt her, he was so very remorseful. Sometimes he cried and it made the pain more bearable. He had to do it, it was required for her to become what she was.

Knots formed in her stomach at remembering her task and not being ceremonially prepared.

The sudden need to forget that had her on a painful journey to the fridge to get her company something to eat. She pulled out the only things she saw, the leftovers, and brought a large bowl of it to him.

He dove right in making it worth the five minutes of agonizing hell it took to get it. “So you
were
hungry, weren’t you?” The words wisped as she struggled to catch her breath. “I hope Solomon won’t mind that I fed you our supper. Maybe I can surprise him and cook something? I bet he thinks I can’t cook.” But the idea of moving another inch made her ill.

She looked around, really wanting to do something to show her appreciation for all he’d done. There was nowhere in her training that Master indicated she couldn’t be kind to the sacrifice. Chaos’s gaze paused at a picture on the fireplace mantle.

She fought her way to stand, sure it was a photograph of a woman. Hobbling slowly over, she held on to the ledge and stared at the smiling face. Wow. She’d thought Solomon was pretty but this woman… maybe she was his sister. She was too young to be his mother. And since the sacrifice was a virgin, she couldn’t be anything else.

And yet… something in Chaos said she was. Something else, something more.

BOOK: Desecrating Solomon: Book 1 of 3 (Desecration Series)
4.31Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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