~Bezaliel~
Monroe once told me she believed that the world was a flow chart marked by lines of karma, that nothing was coincidence. She revered this. I, on the other hand, was beginning to have a rather differing opinion. Point blank, karma is a bitch. I know this because right now the only thing I wanted to do with karma was give it back to its Maker.
My vision blurred. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but I was pretty sure I didn’t want to be here. My head hurt where I had been hit, and I fought the urge to rub it. Looking up, I squinted through the blurriness and grew stock still with terror. My blood went cold. A group of robed figures surrounded me, each one hooded so that their faces were nothing but pockets of shadow. The result was eerie. I closed my eyes. No, no no no no. Amber’s voice echoed through my head, I’m sorry. Sorry for what?
“She’s ready,” someone whispered, and I started to struggle.
What? I was not ready! Ready for what? Who were these people? Monroe’s vision came to mind—figures, chain, blood. Oh my God! One of the robed figures moved up beside me. I moved my mouth, realized it still worked, and started to scream. Someone put a hand over my lips. I struggled harder and bit the hand. I barely registered the person’s muffled exclamation.
“I don’t want to do this!” I declared shakily, my legs kicking violently. Willful I did well. Agreeable, I was not.
“Keep her still,” someone hissed.
Through it all, the figure next to me never flinched, just looked calmly down at a thick, leather-bound black book and signed a page within it with a flourish as the group of robed men and women around us moved in closer. My head began to swim, the pounding behind my temples becoming unbearable.
“What you want and what has to be done are sometimes two entirely different things,” the figure murmured under her breath before removing her hood and turning to face the group now before her. Aunt Ky!
“It is done.”
Done. It sounded so final. What was this? Aunt Ky?
“Congratulations, Dayton!” Several members of the group exclaimed heartily before pounding me on the back without glancing at my face. They all seemed full of jubilation, as if being here on the verge of my seventeenth birthday was my idea, my choice. No wonder they avoided my face.
“It’s time, Kyra,” a woman, Francine Biscoth, said quietly as she came up to stand behind my aunt.
I just stared at her. Francine was the Abbey’s secretary. She had never liked me much. How many people did I know here? Tears burned the back of my lids. What was Francine talking about? My aunt frowned but nodded. The group spread out around me, and I froze. Time?
“Aunt Ky?” I whispered desperately just as one of the robed figures broke away from the group and moved toward us angrily, snatching off the hood of the robe with one swift movement.
“No! This isn’t fair!” my sister yelled vehemently as I stared at her in disbelief. Amber?
Fuzzy words about Sects and Demons flitted through my foggy brain, and I grasped at them. Amber? What was this? I didn’t want this? In just twenty-four hours, a lot of what I believed in, of who I thought I was, of who I believed my family to be had changed. And now I was being . . . what? Hazed? Rites of passage, Amber had said.
“Amber?” I whispered as she faced off against aunt Ky, her face red enough it was beginning to turn purple.
She ignored me. Our aunt looked calm as she stepped forward and laid a hand firmly on Amber’s shoulder. She clamped hard enough I realized it wasn’t meant to be consoling.
“Not now Amber. Don’t do this to yourself. I’ve made my choice,” Ky murmured, low enough that only those closest could hear.
I trembled. Even though I was well-clothed, I was freezing. Choice? What was happening to me?
“We need to go before the night is over,” Mott Jackson spoke sternly, his face coming into view as he made his way toward us.
As the Abbey’s accountant, he looked out of place dressed in the black robes surrounding me, his usual business suit nowhere in sight. His face was determined as he placed his hands on Amber’s arms, and Aunt Ky nodded at him as he dragged her back into formation. She didn’t protest although I thought I heard her whisper, "Please don’t do this to her." It made my blood freeze. The circle fanned out again, and I cowered.
“Tonight, our rites brought us Truth, and brought into our group the Chosen . . .” Kyra began, and my knees buckled.
These people sounded like cultists, not religious followers. I saw my aunts’ lips moving, but her voice faded as my ears began to roar. I felt something cold seep through my palms and realized rather belatedly that I was on my knees on the chilly, stone floor. I tried lifting my head and couldn’t.
“Aunt Ky?” I tried whispering again.
Blessed warmth touched my cold forehead, and I leaned into it.
“It’s ok, Day. Drink this,” Kyra murmured as she held a silver Chalice engraved with strange looking hunched figures up to my lips. I hesitated.
“Drink, Dayton. It will warm you,” Ky ordered, and I struggled to see the contents before she tilted it. Warm liquid ran unerringly down my throat, choking me as I swallowed convulsively. It was bitter and thick. I gagged. And then my back arched, and I groaned as pain shot through me. The only person I wanted right now wasn’t here, couldn’t save me. I wasn’t even sure why I thought of him.
“Dad!” I screamed anyway as hands descended upon me, a million hands it seemed as I lay there writhing.
“Let’s move her,” a voice said quietly, and I looked around me in vain. It was so very dark! Was I blind now? Look for the light, Day! I couldn’t see anything.
“Don’t do this!” I thought desperately. And then there was air rushing all around me as the hands propelled me upward. I tried to scream but couldn’t.
“What’s happening?” I managed instead, so low I figured no one heard. But suddenly, out of nowhere, I heard Amber’s voice filter through all the madness as her face swam in and out of my vision. Where were we now?
“You’re the sacrifice,” she said bitterly, a hint of anger making her words sharp.
My lungs constricted. Sacrifice? I had sudden images of knives and blood, and I struggled against the seat. Seat?
“You’re safe,” Aunt Ky whispered, and I cringed as I tried making out my surroundings. An engine turned off somewhere, and I blinked. A car? I was in a car. It was parked and it was dark.
“Amber, why don’t you stay here?” Aunt Kyra suggested firmly.
I tried sitting up and groaned. Everything was blurred, and I struggled against the need to vomit.
“We’re here to celebrate, Dayton. You’ve done incredibly well tonight,” Aunt Kyra murmured gently. Her tone suggested normalcy and begged for compliance. But this wasn’t normal! They had done something to me!
I blinked over and over again, fighting the fogginess as I looked toward the windows in confusion. And then I lost time.
“Stand up straight, Day,” Aunt Kyra ordered as I stumbled beside her.
What? It was like I was sleep walking and waking during incredibly awkward and strange moments. Time didn’t exist. Where was I now?
There were people everywhere and music so loud my head pounded. I glanced around frantically. The room I found myself in was large and dim, people were dancing around a lighted hardwood floor, a bar was stretched across the back of the room complete with stained glass bar lights and glowing beer signs, music alternated between country, techno, and rock and roll, and "Upcoming Event" posters were taped up all over the room. Oh my God! Were we at a club? I shook my head. Hard. The Abbess had brought me to a club? I tried looking at my aunt but only saw a blurred image of her. Her robe was missing, but I couldn’t make out her attire. Was she wearing jeans?
“Don’t be afraid, Day,” Aunt Ky breathed into my ear, and I shivered.
I was in a club, underage, high on some weird brew, and listening to my religious aunt tell me I had nothing to fear. Screw that!
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“What is this!” I yelled over the music, pushing my aunts’ hands away from me with such force I fell against the bar. The bartender behind it glanced up sharply, and Ky grabbed me from behind, holding me firmly as she smiled sweetly at the tattoo-covered man.
“Excuse us. One too many I’m afraid,” Ky said smoothly, her eyes narrowed as she looked unblinkingly at the burly man.
I struggled against her hands. The bartender narrowed his eyes, looking at me a moment in silence. It was so obvious I was underage, but he seemed the type who’d rather avoid trouble than worry about age appropriate drinking and he accepted Kyra’s lame excuse. Or maybe, it was out of fear.
“Just get her home,” he said brusquely before turning away to slide a beer to someone across the wooden surface.
Aunt Ky pushed a drink at me, and I swallowed down the bile that rose in my throat at the sight of the amber filled shot glass.
“Why are you doing this to me?”
This could not be the formal, criticizing Abbess I’d been raised by these past seven years. She froze for a moment, a look of weariness settling across her features. It made the crow's feet around her eyes stand out, and the wrinkles around her lips deepen in a momentary guise of despair. It didn’t last long.
“You’re the key,” Kyra said, almost to herself as she forced the glass into my hand.
I tried shoving it away but obscure hands suddenly held me firmly from behind, and I realized that Aunt Kyra wasn’t alone.
“Just drink it, Day,” Ky said quietly and there was nothing left to do but obey.
Chapter 14
My heart is heavy. What have they done?