Wynter, limbs shaking, grabs his hand and removes the coin from his clenched fist. I nearly gag when I realize they slotted the ring through a piece of string and stitched it to his ear.
When I yank on it, I almost retch.
“Come, sisters,” the Secretary of Defense croons. “It’s time to take your place among us.”
He steps around the corpse and then settles his arms behind us. Not touching, but close, as he wafts us forward.
The lights cut out again when we walk straight ahead, and then another section lights up.
I don’t know how it’s possible, but there’s an altar surrounded by a thousand candles that weren’t lit before.
I gape at the display, then cringe when I see the odd setup.
The altar sits above two steps with velvet cushions padding the stone floor.
On it, there’s what I can only describe as a fancy bucket. Made of a silvery metal and seemingly encrusted with jewels. It glows red hot, so I know it isn’t silver. Sticking out of it, there’s a long pole.
The brand.
My gaze sweeps down as I brace for the impact of what’s coming our way.
I was disappointed Jerry didn’t make it to this round, but now… not so much.
It’s not that I want to turn back time but—okay, maybe I do.
I knew the branding was coming, but now that it’s here…crap.
“Kneel, sisters. Embrace the brotherhood that will make your goals reality.”
The endless chanting of our names fucks with my senses.
Honestly, with the heat from the lights and that noise, a part of me thinks I could be sick. Especially when I throw in the scent of that metal heating up. God only knows what it’ll be like when we add the stench of burning flesh.
“We can forgive all sins, sisters.Eventually,” the man informs us as he picks up a glove and pushes his hand into it. “But our mark is sacred. To reveal it to anyone outside of these walls is to invite the stroke of the knife as it rives the honor from your very skin. Do you understand?”
“Dyers was a hockey player,” Wynter croaks out. “Surely?—”
“We don’t care how you cover it. But cover it you must. Even from your loved ones and spouses…”
I tip up my chin just so I can nod. When Wynter does too, he smiles at us, and that is a trigger—the men from earlier crowd us and chant something in a language I don’t understand. It sounds like Latin. Butnot. There’s something… Germanic about it. Something butchered. As if it’s a dialect.
With a scorched pad in the man’s hand, one that reminds me of what I’ve seen Aunt Aela use when she blows glass, he retrieves the brand from the fire-pot.
“Sister Egilona,” he invites me.
I stick out my arm, accepting this fate. Embracing it.
Because to fight them, I’ve become one.
This way lies Shay in the White House.
This way lies real power, power that will prove women are just as strong as any man.
This way lies the end of these monsters.
And only knowing that will get me through.
“Nulla poena, nullum crimen.”
