AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Call The Mother! Please, Makiah. Please! I’m here because I need your help. You’re the only person I can think of who can help me.”
He just stares at me. Hard.
He’s serious.
I look at the door, the lock clicked in place. No one knows I am here. Jason and Malcolm are dead. Rudy is dead. I ran away from Cam. I have no tracking device on me. No phone.
I can feel my heartbeat in every cell of my skin. Makiah watches me with clear eyes. As each second ticks on by, I remain frozen. My hands don't know what to do. I am on the run but without a clear destination.
I thought Rooney would make me safe.
Instead, I’m in even more danger.
"Do not make me undress you, Princess." Though his words sound filled with a tone of regret I don't understand, his eyes light up with something I have seen before. I have seen it in men who covet me.
Of all the men in the world who should not have that look, Makiah is one of them.
"I have shown you my mark," I explain, hoping there's an easy explanation to clear all of this up.
"There are dark forces in this world, Paigelynn," he says, looking toward the door. "How do I know you're not lying?"
This is the second time today that a man has accused me of lying. It is the second time today that outrage has filled me, my fists clenching. I am less than a week away from turning twenty-five and fulfilling my destiny.
Why this? Why now?
In anger, I reach for my leggings and pull them down, kicking off my shoes at the heel, peeling out of the pants at the ankle. Removing my shirt is much easier, and soon I'm standing before him in bra, panties, and socks.
The room is as cold as a freezer.
"Now are you satisfied?" My voice holds a challenge in it that makes him jolt.
"I do this for the cause," he insists, eyes combing over me. "I take no pleasure in verifying your identity."
But his eyes say otherwise.
Crossing the distance between us, Makiah reaches for my shoulder. The second his skin touches mine, I realize I've made a terrible mistake. He feels like Rudy.
He looks like Rudy. On some level, he even smells like Rudy. The Mother never warned me that men with appetites have a scent, but suddenly, I know.
Makiah Rooney may be a spiritual man, and a man connected to the divine, but he's still a man. A man with base desires.
"Stay back!" I insist, moving so that the chair is between us, my clothes in a pool on the floor. "I want you to call The Mother immediately."
One eyebrow lifts, his smile mocking. "Now you're ordering me around?"
"I am asking you as one who is devoted to the Prophecy, call The Mother. Let her know that I am safe."
He leans against the back of his desk, arm still folded over his chest. It is clear that he has no intention of doing anything I ask.
"How did you get here? Before I reach out to important people in a cause that you may be undermining, I have questions of my own." His eyes roam over my body. "Demands, too."
"Someone tried to kill me. My bodyguards are dead." I don't trust him. Not one bit. Giving him as little information as possible is going to be crucial. Many years ago, The Mother trained me on how to handle being away from my bodyguards. This was one of her pieces of advice: Say as little as possible. Do everything you can to get yourself into a position where you are safe again.
"Dead?" Shock fills his features. "Who? How?"
"Jason and Malcolm. They are dead back at my safe house."
For the first time, his facade cracks, genuine panic filling his features. His eyes dart from thing to thing in the room as if he's trying to organize his thoughts.
