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Ethan knew he was hardly repentant, but there was no point in punishing the one person he trusted above all others. Bart was only being cautious. “Do whatever you can to bring me reassurance that the Motts are what I hope they are and you shall be forgiven.”
“Of course. I have done and will always do anything you ask. I think you know that.”
Ethan squeezed his shoulder. “I do. Now get that computer to C.J.”
Bart nodded and left. Maybe the man lacked refinement, as Ethan’s father would say, but he was a valuable tool. Ethan had no doubt that once he felt reassured about the Motts, Bart would do everything in his power to deliver Rachel to the ceremonial platform they were erecting in the middle of the courtyard. There, everyone—including Nate—would witness the mating ceremony. The whole church would worship God, one another and the power of procreation every night until she was pregnant. Then they’d hold monthly ceremonies during which a new group of men would mate with her on the same platform. It would be a frenzy of sexual worship taking place in the dark of night with only the moon and stars and a few torches to give them light. But first, those who wanted to participate would mark their foreheads with charcoal, if they hadn’t already made a permanent mark, and covenant to love and cherish Rachel. To die for her, if necessary—her and the holy child.
Ethan felt himself grow clammy with excitement. Of course the Vessel had to be an outsider. That was why he hadn’t been able to find the right woman. He’d instinctively known what his conscious mind had not yet recognized—the group would never be willing to elevate someone with whom they worked on a daily basis to a position so far above them. But this…this was sheer genius. He’d notify the entire church of her calling before she came to the dinner. That would set the appropriate tone for how she should be treated. And it would allow everyone to court her in anticipation of the rituals to come.
The possibility that her husband might refuse threatened to dim Ethan’s euphoria. But he quickly disregarded that idea. There were ways to persuade him. If he still refused, he’d be killed. It was that simple.
Rachel was angry when Nate returned, and he couldn’t blame her. Once again, he’d left her without word of where he was going and without a car. Even though he’d promised not to. He should’ve clarified that he’d meant he wouldn’t leave her at night.
She sat on the couch, watching a movie from a selection of DVDs that were almost as outdated as the trailer, and shot him a dirty look when he walked in.
“Hey.”
She didn’t respond, so he held out the bag he was carrying. “I brought you something.” He felt a lot better. After his visit to Paradise, he was beginning to believe they might be able to stay in close contact with the Covenanters without having to live in their commune. It would certainly be easier to protect themselves if they weren’t locked behind that gate with people who were convinced Ethan was a god.
A quick point of the remote muted the TV. “Unless you have news that you’re heading back to California and sending Drake or someone else to replace you, I’m not interested.”
“Sorry. All I have is a doughnut.”
“That’s your peace offering?”
“It was the last one they had. I saved it for you.”
No comment from Rachel.
“Looks pretty tasty.” He removed the apple fritter from the sack as if he’d eat it himself. “Okay, if you don’t want it…”
She jumped up and whisked it out of his hand. “What’d Ethan say?”
He wadded up the empty sack, shot it at the waste-basket—and missed. “You know I went to Paradise?”
“Where else would you go?” She sampled a piece of the fritter.
“I thought about trying to find a place to develop my pictures. But I knew it would take too much time.”
“And you would’ve brought me with you. Anyway, I don’t think we’re going to need those pictures. We’re gaining direct access easily enough.” She moaned at the taste of her doughnut.
“It’s that good?” It really had been the last one, and fritters were his favorite kind. He’d bought it, hoping she’d share.
“Delicious. Too bad they didn’t have another one.”
“No kidding.” After picking up the sack, he threw it away and went into the kitchen to get her a glass of milk.
“Are you going to tell me about your time in Paradise?” she called.
“I was treated okay. Ethan had me look at some building plans. He wants me to pour the foundation for a school.”
“Isn’t that kind of complicated?” She came as far as the partial wall and took a sip of the milk he handed her.
“Not really.”
“You’re sure? You’d know that?”
“Of course I’d know it. I grew up pouring cement with my uncle nearly every summer. I can handle it.”
More interested in the doughnut than the milk—probably because he wanted it, too—she set the glass on a nearby table. “You could’ve told me that before.”
He tried not to grin at the way she was lording her possession of that fritter over him. “I told you I could pour cement.”
“You didn’t tell me where you learned, or that you had extensive experience.”
“That was important for you to know?”
“Of course! I would’ve been much more confident in your ability to pull off—” She rolled her eyes. “Never mind. Back to the Covenanters. You think we’ll be around long enough that you’ll have to prove your concrete-pouring skills by putting in the foundation?”
He watched her lick glaze from her fingertips. “I hope not, but the job gives us an excuse to establish a relationship with Ethan without having to join a religion that would be pretty tough to swallow.”
“Not if you want to have sex with every woman you see,” she said flippantly.
“True.” He rubbed his chin as if he hadn’t considered it from that angle. “Okay, on second thought…”
She slugged him in the arm.
“Hey, you know I’m joking.” He rubbed his biceps, although it didn’t hurt.
“No, I don’t,” she said, and slugged him again.
This time it did hurt. “What was that for?”
“For leaving me behind and being such a jerk last night.”
He deserved it. He wasn’t quite sure what had come over him, except a case of “I want what I can’t have.” But he didn’t feel bad enough about his poor behavior to resist the opportunity to grab her wrist and shove her doughnut halfway into his mouth.
