I school my body and my face not to react. I must not exhale loudly or slump with relief. I sit rigidly and take a celebratory sip of bourbon, though I’m quite buzzed enough to block any bond from showing.
I lean forward and steal a glance toward Anna, and the look on her face punctures my heart, deflating my relief.
She is staring at the stage and the Neph Gerlinda with unguarded horror, as if she might scream or cry as the Dukes begin to heckle.
No, Anna, I want to say. Sit silent and be grateful. There’s nothing you can do to stop it. You don’t even bloody know her . . . but since when has that mattered to Anna? She is a bleeding heart for injustice, and I know it will scar her to witness this. I don’t particularly want to view this show myself, so I know it’s a million times worse for her.
Shite, she needs to just stare at the wall and try to block it out or something. But every time I glance down she’s fervently watching, even moving her lips.
Please, Anna, please. For the love of God, keep your damn mouth shut.
She is making me so nervous. If she can just make it through this, we’ll all be all right. I know it’s cruel of me, but I don’t care about Gerlinda or what’s happening to her onstage. I can block it out. I can only hope Belial has taught this skill to Anna.
I’m beginning to sweat in this stupid button-up shirt. It’s freezing outside, but a thousand degrees in here. I undo the next button on my shirt and take another drink. Gin shoots me a “stay still” glare.
The entire room tenses and I look up for the first time, allowing myself to fully see what’s happening. Rahab has raised the gun to the Neph woman’s head. I’ve never seen anyone die before. I start to shift my eyes away when I hear a lovely voice call out from several seats down, and my heart stops.
“No!” Anna shouts.
Oh, my God. Her voice rings in my ears, echoing. No, no, no . . .
Everyone turns toward our tables, staring in shock. Rahab yells, “Which of you dares to speak out at this sacred summit?”
This cannot be happening. Why, Anna, why? Why can’t you be a silent bystander just once?
The room begins to spin as they bring Anna to the stage. My stomach rolls. I move to the edge of my seat, and I see Kopano grip the table edge in front of him. All eyes in the room are on Anna, but Belial slightly turns and eyes our group of Neph in the corner. With one hand at his side he cups it downward and presses down as if to say Stay seated.
Does he have a plan?
It’s taking every ounce of my energy to remain seated while Anna is up there under Rahab’s scrutiny. I have no idea how she can manage to appear both fragile and strong all at once.
Father waves a hand in the air, and my stomach drops when he speaks. “Good Hades, Belial! She’s still a virgin!”
The room gasps in unison. Blake flinches next to me, and Kope scoots forward. Marna covers her mouth, but Ginger slaps her hand quickly down.
The Dukes argue about how to deal with Anna and why she is still pure. All I can do is stare at her face, at the fear in her creased brow. By now, Rahab is furious that his show’s been interrupted by an insolent Neph, and he’s ready to punish her with or without her father’s permission. He shoves Gerlinda out of the way and hits Anna in the side of the head. My hand is in my pocket and I’m halfway to my feet before Blake grabs my arm like a steel vise and yanks me back down.
Anna gets up again, standing strong as she takes yet another hit. The sound of her involuntary cry makes me struggle to take in air. I want her to reach for the hilt and murder him. I want him dead. Why isn’t she using the sword?
Rahab points to the gun on the table and snarls at Anna. “To make amends for disrupting our session, you will complete it for us. You will kill her yourself.”
Shite. She will not pull that trigger. And he knows it. Everything with these bastards is a test or a game. And the rules are always stacked to ensure our failure.
“Raise the gun,” Rahab tells her.
I know with sudden clarity—this is the moment we’ll both die. Only a miracle can save Anna now.
Only a miracle . . .
My vision blurs for a split second, and a foreign urge stirs deep within me. I have never spoken to God. Never asked Him for anything. But for the first time ever . . . I want to pray.
As Anna stares down at that gun, a silent prayer stutters its way from my heart.
Save her. Please. I’m begging You. You’re the only one powerful enough. I will do anything. If I live, I will stay far away from her. Please, just don’t let them kill her. Take me instead. Don’t let her suffer. . . .
“Last chance,” Rahab says. He raises the gun to Anna’s head and cocks it. When I hear the click, I’m on my feet and my knife is out. Rahab will be dead before he has a chance to pull the—
What the bloody hell is that? A gigantic light splits the back of the room and sends out a glow. Did someone open a door or turn on a spotlight? I look at Anna and find she is the only one not looking at the light.
She’s looking at me. And then Kopano, who’s standing two seats down. She gives her head an almost indecipherable shake, and I feel an overwhelming urge to sit. It takes me a moment to realize she is using her silent compulsion, and I want to scream.
The room brightens further and Rahab lowers his arms. All of the attention has turned away from Anna, to the light. I squint as I try to look at it. Abruptly, I fall back into my chair and stare.
Angels. The Maker sent angels. Is this . . . did He answer my prayer? Or is this coincidence? I begin to shake, overcome by the beings pushing into the room. The Dukes are falling back and scrambling to move away. Neph jump up and run, huddling against the walls in fear. The angels eye the room sternly and I have no doubt they would gladly take out every one of our stained souls if the Maker gave the order. I want to run onstage and snag Anna away, but the angels move forward.