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More footsteps approached us, but I didn’t bother to look. I was going to die. He intended to kill me. Oh, god. What did I do to deserve this?
This had to be some ritual.
He could do other things to us.He never said he’d kill us.
The leader of the cult—I assumed he was the leader because of how he took charge—scoffed and stepped closer to my side. “You want to know what I’ll do to you and your friend?”
Too upset to use my voice, I didn’t answer. If I opened my mouth now, I’d scream-cry.
“We’re doing this because he chose you as his.” He dragged his finger down my bare shoulder and chest, then between my breasts. “You should be more thankful.”
Layla screamed, and I turned my gaze back to the ceiling, staring at the woman being raped by a demon. Was that my destiny? Would I get raped by some goat-faced demon?
My face replaced the woman’s, and I clenched my eyes shut, sobbing as softly as possible. Tears slipped from the corners of my eyes and slid down my temples. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him anymore.
“Is that all you have for me? Tears? A quivering lip?” He scoffed. “Pathetic.”
I squeezed my eyes closed until dots popped into my vision behind them. I attempted to ignore his hurtful words, but all I heard was him saying I belonged to someone. My heart pounded so painfully against my chest that I worried it would jump out and land on the leader’s feet. I got the impression he would insult me for getting blood on his new shoes.
“You take her. I’ll take the blonde,” the leader said.
I sucked in shaky breaths, unable to stop the flow of tears.
Footsteps drew closer, and I slowly opened my eyes as silence filled the large room. Aside from a few whimpers, even Layla had quieted. The cult leader watched me with annoyance in his dark eyes. He held out his hand, and a man stepped beside him and slid a jeweled dagger into his waiting palm. The others wore the same masks from earlier.
Chanting began, and I gasped for air. I couldn’t recognize the language at first, but the more I listened, the more I realized it was Latin. My gaze stayed on the sharp weapon in the leader’s hand. It reminded me of a snake with its gentle waves. A goat’s head had been carved near the base.
The room went dark, then the candles burst into flames. I flinched and Layla screamed. Shadows crept from the walls and leaped through the chamber. One swept up the ceiling and positioned itself above me. A shriek caught in my throat, my eyes widening as I stared into the evil face. It had sunken eye sockets and sharp, sharklike teeth.
“It was . . . It waspleasanttalking to you,Grace,” the leader drawled, not meaning it at all. I saw it in how he looked at me with stony eyes and a set jaw.
A tear tracked down my temple. “At least tell me your name.”
Why did it matter anyway? It wasn’t like I would find him in the afterlife.
I prayed I would go to Heaven.
His lips curled into a slow smile that was more wicked than good. “You’re not going to see God, little sinner.”
A shiver wracked me, and I swallowed hard. I must’ve said that aloud.
“Please,” I begged softly, gazing up at the man. I meant it as a plea for my life, for him to let me live, but with it was the need to know his name.
He extended his arm, pushing up the sleeve of his jacket. Tattoos covered every inch of his skin, and veins bulged from them. He brought the dagger to his arm and sliced his wrist. Blood came to the surface. He turned the knife to me and began chanting with the others. The shadows in the room screeched.
Layla and I whimpered at the same time.
The man lowered the dagger’s tip to my forehead and dragged it through my flesh. I screamed, jerking my head, but a pair of hands held me still while the leader carved an upside-down cross in the middle of my forehead.
He withdrew the tip and raised it above my chest, then held his bleeding wrist over me. Blood dripped onto my face and chest. A few drops slipped into my mouth, and I gagged while crying.
Layla sobbed, screaming a few times, and even threw in a “Help,” but I didn’t think anyone would hear her. I hated being pessimistic about it, but if anyone could have helped us, they would have heard her screams before the chanting started.
I squeezed my eyes shut, struggling to breathe as I spiraled into a panic attack.
The chanting stopped, and aside from Layla’s screams and my gasps for air, the room was silent. My mouth went dry, and I opened my eyes as the cult leader raised his dagger above me.
Our eyes met.
