The Sifting (7 page)

Chapter
Ten

“Now what are you doing?” Sarah came out of the bathroom thinking it had to be getting close to dawn.

“Get your things, we’re leaving.”

“What? Why?”

He stopped and stared at her
with a near furious shock. “Why?”

Sarah’s heart clenched at seeing the terror in his face. She shook her head. “I’m not running,” she whispered,
shaking her head. “I won’t let my family get hurt just to save my own ass.”

He shook his head
slowly, handsome face etched in agony. For that, he knew he had no defense. Not with her, this was who she was. And that made it his kryptonite. He looked down and turned, grabbing handfuls of his dark blond hair.

“God will work it out.”

“God will
not
work it out, if he’d planned on working it the fuck out, you wouldn’t
be here!”
he yelled without turning.

“You don’t know that, Micah.”

He spun to her. “No? I don’t? What’s the trick with him Sarah? What’s the combination to that great
lock
that gets him off of his high horse to come and
save
one of the most…” He swiped his hand over his mouth, turning his body a little. …”most idiotic
daughters,”
he leveled a furious gaze on her then stormed up to her, grabbed her shoulders and kissed her. After he stole her breath, he pulled up. “And one of the most beautiful,” he said hoarsely, “and amazing women.” His brows suddenly drew together hard and he released her and spun away. “My brother no doubt suspects.”

“Your brother?”

“Yes my
brother.
” Micah turned. “Let me tell you a little about him. He’s a fucking monster, he gets off to hurting me and if he knows what you mean to me Sarah, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t somehow know with
Raleigh’s
gum flapping, which means he will take great pleasure in hurting you just to hurt me.”

“Why does he want to hurt you?”

“Fuck Sarah! What does it matter? He hates me because that’s what he’s good at, and ever since I slipped up and did one good deed, he’s not let me live it down.”

“What good deed?”

He threw his hands up in disgust and turned a little. “Are you
fucking
serious? You’re about to die, and oh by the way, what good deed is your brother mad at you for? I’m really tired of trying to get you to care for your own fate, you know that?”

“I’m sorry, I
’m just…I don’t know a lot about you and…”

“And that is what you
care
about at this point?”

Tears stung her eyes at how he was talking to her
, but her own anger was the first on the rebound. “Yes, it’s what I care about, woopty-fucking-do.” She looked at the door and yelled to whoever gave a shit. “I care about Micah, oh my God, I care about him more than I care about my own life, hurry and shoot me already!”

When she looked at him, h
e stared at her. Speechless. Like she’d lost her mind and he’d never seen anything quite so riveting.

He
suddenly pointed at her, furious. “I
hate
your god, do you hear me?” He looked up. “Do you hear me?” he raged at the ceiling. “You give life just to steal it! You give hope just to
crush
it, that’s who you are, that’s what you fucking do! I will
never
serve a god like that!”

The last
he aimed at her.

She shook her head, her heart breaking for him.
He was just scared. “I’m not asking you to, baby.”

His face turned to rock. “Don’t…you fucking call me that. You have made your choice. And you will have to live with it.
Die with it, in this case. I am
done
trying to convince you about your
stupid
god. You can have him. We’re done.”

He stormed off and Sarah crumpled to the floor in sobs. She
realized in that instant that with Micah, she wasn’t scared at all. But without him. She was terrified. He blamed God for taking something precious away from him, no matter how untrue it was. Maybe the only precious thing he’d ever had in his life. But she couldn’t do this alone. Not alone. God, she needed him.

****

Sarah opened her eyes and stared at the soft white walls around her. Several blinks registered sheers. A bed.

Micah.

When had she fallen asleep? Where was he? Her chest clenched at the memory of what happened last. He was devastated that she wouldn’t leave, wouldn’t renounce. He blamed her as much as God for not being able to have her. To him it was simple. Renounce and live happily ever after together. She couldn’t renounce God. Never.

A soft knock
at the door sat her up in bed. That’s what woke her. A knock. Who was it? What was she supposed to do?

Another
knock, more persistent and louder. “C-come in.” Sarah cleared her throat, fear pumping through her.

A
tall woman entered and Sarah gawked first at the blooming frizzy locks of fire enshrouding her head. Her floor length dress shimmered like wet blood, the poufy skirt giving her a floating appearance as she approached. The woman’s face resembled a porcelain doll straight out of absurd fiction. She stood there, smiling at her with shiny lips like petite petals of ruby. The good witch on the Wizard of Oz is what she reminded Sarah of. Saccharine smile, all knowing gaze, and maybe an ‘all you have to do’ heal clicking plan.  

“Sarah.
” The deep and gravelly tone blew the hopeful Glenda illusion right out of the water. “Let me look at this
Christian
woman.” A cold chocolate gaze swept over her, head to foot. She tsked. “What powers do you possess, girl?”

S
arah shook her head, not sure what that meant.

“Surely you must possess something. No woman has ever reduced my brother to such…” she raised
slim red brows, “embarrassing levels. Although when we fuck, he can get rather base and animalistic.” She quirked a brow. “But I do like it.”

An odd fury took
Sarah at the idea of him with another woman, especially this…this beautiful one. Then she realized what she said. “W-what’s wrong with Micah?”

The woman
jerked back like she’d been slapped. “Why do you call him that?”

“It’s…his name. The name I met him by. I mean.” She didn’t want to get him in trouble. “I-I keep forgetting to call him by his real name. Seven.”

Again she balked. “
Master
Seven, girl.”

“Master Seven, yes.”

She flicked her gaze over Sarah, letting her façade slip briefly. Long enough for Sarah to glimpse the sinister light in her spirit—cruel and vicious as she was beautiful. Sarah drew on years of training and plastered her own mask on. When they’d nicknamed her the maniac whisperer, it wasn’t entirely without merit. Sarah was known to tame just about any person long enough for them to get a job done, which was usually minor compliances. She didn’t expect to tame the monster before her, just not allow her to see the hysterical fear levels pumping through her veins in that second.

“Well then. I have come to fetch you for the Council. Come along.”

Sarah got up. “May I wash my face first?”
She was about to pee on herself.

“Of course darling,
” her red nails fluttered toward the bathroom. Sarah hurried through the door, fighting not to vomit. She splashed her face with water, wondering where Micah was.

Staring hard at her reflection in the mirror, she steadied her resolve
with a quick prayer and exited. “I’m ready,” Sarah said firmly.

“Change into this. You can’t go in that,” she flicked her nails at her.

Sarah hurried back into the bathroom with the white evening gown, decorated with glittery specks all over it. Once she got it on, she realized how very flattering it was at the bosom.

Even barefoot
Sarah had to hurry to keep up as she followed the tall woman down a round antiquated wood staircase. Sarah gawked at the beauty of the place. Like a palace. It seemed to be filled with ancient looking relics of biblical proportions. Pity she couldn’t truly appreciate any of it.

“May I ask what is to take place at the council?”

“Standard opening Sifting ritual protocol. But I do believe Seven plans to…spice things up this year?” They continued down another flight of stairs that would appear to go underground. Every step felt like she walked in quicksand surrounding a burial ground.

Sarah suddenly wanted to know what was happening more than she cared about facades.
She kept close to the woman’s heels. “So how does Master Seven…plan to spice things up?

T
he woman stopped abruptly and nearly buried her nose in Sarah’s face. Sarah leaned back as red hair zoomed in for a near eye to eye. “Surprisingly, he wishes to challenge our coven’s Sifter. I’m actually quite impressed, he’s never shown so much…enthusiasm for the art.”

“The…
art?”

“The ma
nner in which it is carried out.” She swiped her hand before Sarah’s face. “No more questions.”

She
spun away and continue down the dank corridor lit with random antiquated lanterns along the wall. She began rattling off words without turning and Sarah strained to hear. “You are to appear before the Council as is customary. You will be inquired of. You will address all members of the panel as lord. Except Master Seven. You will not make eye contact with any of the holy board members or you will be killed. You will not move from where you are placed, unless instructed, or you will be killed. You will not cry, you will not speak unless asked, and you will bow before the holy board once in place, and before exiting. Is it clear?”

Sarah bit her lower lip, remembering that many people prostrated before kings in the Bible. “It’s clear.
How do I address you?”

“Sister, if all goes well.
Otherwise…my name is Agony.”

Chapter
Eleven

Sarah followed Agony—since they wouldn’t be sisters—into a huge dome like room bearing fire torches every ten or so feet. In the center of the gymnasium sized rectangle was a huge circle with small candles along the edge and zigzagging throughout in some pattern. A robed figure stood before a long desk in the circle’s center and Sarah’s heart raced. Micah? She hoped. No, dreaded. Shit, both. She’d never been so torn with needing a person.

Agony
did some kind of motion before the circle and stood as though she held a door open for Sarah to walk through. Upon entering the ring, Sarah focused her mind. She’d testified before dozens of legislative committees, had elite prosecuting attorneys attempt to get her to sway the evidence to their side and given countless lectures to much greater crowds. This was no different.

The
woman physically led her to a spot just behind the robed figure and squeezed her arms as though to
set
her in place. Sarah got the message. This was the spot she was not to move from or she’d be killed. Check.

S
arah panicked, trying to recall the do or die list. Don’t look in the eyes, don’t talk, cry, laugh, sing.

Shit
.

“Bow.”

Sarah jumped at the whispered command from the robed figure next to her. It
was
Micah. The urge to cling to him made her tremble. She bowed several times then remained still with her head lowered. Everything was happening so fast, too fast. One minute she was making love to Micah, the next she was standing there in a harrowing hall of insanity, fear gripping her muscles until she trembled.

****

Micah couldn’t let them see his emotions for Sarah. He’d had to become superman to do what needed doing. He was too weak with her. She was too vulnerable for him to be weak. The wrong move from this point out might cost her.

After going through the customary steps of the opening ritual,
he presented his proposition. “I have a request.”

The four members that served as their
hierarchy merely waited for him to speak. “I would like to perform the sifting as a means of attaining higher powers. I tire of my limits and believe this would dissolve the chains that stilt my soul. She is my thirteenth wife. And as tradition has it, my final. I have not sifted any before her. But this one is quite promising. Her faith is stronger than any before her and she will be a great sacrifice. The power it promises is rightfully mine. I will gladly fight for the honor to harvest it with my own hands.”

A low chuckle came from Scythe. “What is her name?”

Micah’s body hardened
in fear at what he heard in his tone. “She goes by the name Sarah.”

“Sarah. How perfect that the thirteenth wife is a
princess of God
.” He chuckled and the lusty sound boiled Micah’s blood.

“Tell us, Sarah. Will you renounce your god?”

Micah yanked her forward and she yelped. “Speak.”

“I will not.”

Despite his dread, Micah couldn’t help but feel some satisfaction in her words, her rebellion, despite what it all meant for her and him. She was priceless, worth much more than
Sifting
could ever pay
.

Scythe laughed heartily. “Well said little lamb, well said.
She is yours to do as you wish. But not by your hand. We have ruled it to not be in the coven’s favor for you to Sift.”

“Why?” Micah demanded.

“Well, brother, rumor has it…that you have not followed Sifting protocol.” He leaned forward, his steel gray eyes as hard as his perfect mouth. “You have taken her virginity? Perhaps even…fallen in love?” His mouth spread into a grin. “Therefore, the greater sacrifice would be for you to oversee the sifting. Personally.”

Dread and terror slammed him and he foug
ht not to let it show. “I wish to challenge this motion.”

“
Yes, yes, of course. We’ll begin with me checking to see if she indeed is still a virgin.”

Micah’s heart raced and then plummeted when Sarah raised her hand to speak. Please
, please don’t speak.

“I think your virgin wishes to say something
,” Scythe said. “Go on Christian, speak.”

“I am not a virgin.
I was raped at a young age. Twelve.”

Micah
kept his head lowered and his eyes clenched, praying to her god that he would spare her, save her.

Scythe laughed heartily. “
Well, well, well. For that, you will be most severely punished, brother. Failing to pick a true virgin.”

“Do to me as you wish,” Micah said.

“What? Why punish him?”

Micah
’s blood froze at her words and Scythe’s laughter that followed them.

“And there we have it,” Scythe said. “The lover speaks.
How very easy this was to prove. Seven has fallen in love. With a Christian.”

The distaste in his tone equaled his plans of cruelty.

Micah
grasped for the favor he’d gained in the brotherhood. “I wish to keep her.”

More raucous laughter. “You wish to
keep
her.” The disgust in Scythes’ tone rolled through him. “You will keep her, this is certain. But you may not want what is left of her when I am done with your pretty Christian.”

Revin
held up his hand and hope surged through Micah. Whatever he spoke was final and Micah prayed again to Sarah’s god that it was in her favor. “Is this true brother? You have fallen in love?”

Micah clenched his fists
, praying this confession didn’t backfire. “Yes.”

“
Then as our brother, we will permit you to act as Mediator and the Sifting will be conducted by our Zane. If you cannot convince her to renounce, the sacrifice will be one of profound power, and a benefit to the entire coven. If you do convince her, our brother will gain his thirteenth wife and retire his Sifting position to another.

Micah’s body locked up with blood lust and fear. They were making him watch. Watch her suffer. The hope he’d tried to gain was gone, and
murder clawed through his mind. Kill. Kill all of them.

“Take her to the Sifting Chambers
,” Revin said. “Have Agony prepare her.”

“I will prepare her!”
Micah yelled before catching himself. But his anger was beyond apologizing.

“Very well brother.”
Understanding hinted in Revin’s gravelly tone as he gave the signal for the Hell Hounds. “Due to the unusual circumstances and the weight of this Sifting, you will be a prisoner during the duration of the ceremony. If you demonstrate you are incapable of acting as Mediator, the job will be given to Scythe.”

Dread filled
Micah as a herd of their elite death squad ghosted forward like a wall of black flames. Instincts slammed his muscles. Grab the nearest weapon and plunge it into Sarah’s heart and end it all swiftly was the first and strongest. The next was trying to kill all of them. The third instinct stilled him. He’d never had one like it. Wait, it said. A plan would surface.

Micah heeded
, telling the instinct the plan would have to be fucking perfect or he would cause Sarah a world of suffering. He was a master at execution. And if he couldn’t save her from death, he’d see to it she died instantly in a non-ceremonious fashion. They wouldn’t be able to use her blood. Or hurt her.

Micah
held Sarah’s arm in a death grip and opened the ritual circle. He stepped forward, pausing long enough to allow the Hounds to surround them for the escort. Sarah’s terror came out in stifled whimpers as she clutched him tightly. The man she loved—murderer and savior—escorted her into a darkness that planned to snuff out her beautiful light forever.

At the sifting
chambers, they were both led into the outer room and the door was locked. The first phase room. There were several rooms of torture, each evolving in horror as you went, the final one leading into The Sacrifice Hall.

The
moment they were locked in, Micah immediately pushed her into a corner and kissed her with a desperate hunger and fear. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he gasped, “please forgive me Sarah, please, I thought I could get them to let me Sift then maybe I could fake it and now, fuck now...”

Sarah grasped Micah’s face and held it before her. “Shh, shhh listen to me,
” she cried, “I knew when I met you that it was a one way ticket. I knew there were risks and I will never be sorry I took them.”

He
shook his head, turmoil building in his chest until he wanted to scream at her god. Instead he wept on her shoulder, his fury nothing compared to the crippling terror. “Why didn’t your god warn you? Why?” he gasped. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he recognized that she’d resurrected his dead cold heart and it was shattered inside him. Because he would be fucking responsible for her death. He couldn’t bear this.

“He did sweetie, he showed me.”

He lifted his gaze to hers. “Showed you?”

She nodded through her own tears. “
He showed me you needed me.”

Pain stole his breath.
“I didn’t need you,” he said, tears streaming, “I didn’t fucking need you.” He grabbed her and embraced her tight. “I needed a sacrifice, oh God.”

“I know you thought that,
” she whispered in his ear. “But I saw beyond your game. I saw your heart, your soul. You needed me, Micah. And you still do.”

“But look what I’ve done,” he sobbed,
pulling away, “I’ve led you to hell and your god let me!”

She shook her head
then closed her eyes. “Yes, he did.” She leveled a strong teary gaze on him. “And I trust him. He led me here for a reason.”

“Why?”
Micah didn’t care that he sounded like a broken child, betrayed. Why would her loving god do this to her?

She shook her head
, her chin trembling. “I’m not entirely sure, I won’t lie. But I know this much,” she nodded, stroking his face. “I trust him. With my life, and my soul. They are his to keep, Micah,” she whispered. “They will always be his to keep.”

Micah
collapsed to his knees, sobbing quietly, shaking his head. Sarah dropped down next to him and rocked him in a hug.

Micah heard the outer door and quickly whispered in her ear. “
Fuck, they’re beginning. Listen to me. I’ll find a way to get you out. Be ready. Watching. Waiting,” he gasped. “Everything is in a form of sevens. As mediator, I’m allowed to be with you, to monitor your resolve, offer you a way out. The entire ritual lasts thirty-four hours.”