Page 55 of Harmless
But the shade tent was draped in swaths of cloth. Ribbons made of dozens of different fabrics wrapped around the legs. Sitting at the bases of all four legs were flowers, stuffed animals and children’s toys, beads and jewelry, handwritten letters and photographs. The items near the bottoms of the piles were dark brown with remnants of dried blood.
Offerings, I realized, swallowing to tamp down my nausea again.
Once we reached it, the woman stood to the side of the tent just outside the canopy. She gestured for me to go inside. “No one but those of us in the Sisterhood has gazed upon a living, breathing deity.” Awe filled her voice. “You truly have no idea how lucky you are.”
Inside the tent was a wicker bassinet, gently rocking from side to side. A bolt of fear jolted through me. Whatever was in that thing, I didnotwant to see. Only the desire to maintain the illusion kept me inching forward. The woman beamed at me as I walked past her, mistaking my nauseating fear for reverence.
A metallic smell hit me as soon as I ducked under the shade cloth, and I almost turned the fuck around when I realized the entire floor surrounding the bassinet was coated in blood. Fuck, fuck, fuck, I didnotwant to do this.
And with that thought came the helpful reminder that nobody here cared what I wanted.
I approached the bassinet at the pace of a geriatric snail. The closer I got, the more my terror grew, but as I got peeks of the cushion and fabric lining the basket, I became a tiny bit curious. Was their goddess a baby? Some re-imagination of Jesus Christ to fit their anti-men ideology?
After what felt like years, I reached the bassinet. I stood over it and looked down at what was inside.
I lasted maybe five seconds before turning and throwing up on the floor. There was a flurry of movement and voices, then multiple hands grabbing me, guns poking me to move again, but I couldn’t get my feet to cooperate. Couldn’t get my eyes to unsee the thing writhing in that bassinet.
It looked like…a hunk of raw meat. Maybe a human liver. But itmoved. It was alive and sentient, and itknewI was there. It knew what purpose I served for its devotees. I felt that it recognized me as easily as seeing someone wave at me in a crowd. I saw what it wanted for the world, and the sheer scale of devastation made me feel as insignificant as an ant.
“The Dark Mother was the size of my pinky finger decades ago.” It was the bejeweled woman speaking, her smile and eyes bright as she walked alongside me. Except I wasn’t so much walking as I was being dragged. “After decades of devotion and sacrifices, her power has grown and she has rewarded us. But there is still so much to be done.”
“What…how…” My stomach heaved again, and I coughed up bile and saliva.
“Faith, stupid man. Faith, prayer, and sacrifice.” The woman went up to the door of a cottage and proceeded to unlock and open it. “We need only a few months before she can take a vessel, and then our goddess will walk among us.” She stood to the side, beaming like she’d won the lottery as my escorts dragged me inside. “And that is something you willnotwant to miss.”
19
SANTOS
Iwatched Rori leave the living room, listened to the bedroom door close, and then looked at Devin. “Shit. What do you think happened down there?”
“Don’t know.” He did a final wipe-down of his knives before sheathing them. “Long as she didn’t take my kill, I don’t care.”
Liar,I thought. Maybe he didn’t like Rori as much as I did, but I could tell he was warming up to her. Slowly. Okay, maybe at a glacial pace, but he was coming around to her and maybe even women in general. I actually heard him say good morning to Paige when they walked past each other.
“I said it to both of them. Herandthe Hunter,” he’d protested when I made fun of him.
Devin was all serious now, his blades tucked away into their various hidden holsters as he stood from the couch.
“You doing it now?” I asked him.
“Why wait?” He breezed over to the basement door, silent and fluid.
“You want to be alone?”
He paused with his hand on the doorknob. “I do, actually.” He shot me a glance over his shoulder. “This is for me. Unless you’re also itching for a revenge kill.”
I shook my head. Killing had been nothing more than survival for me. It did nothing for me emotionally. I never got a sense of closure or vindication from taking a life.
“No, I’m good. Take it, man. You deserve it.”
Devin gave a small nod before swinging the door open and heading down the basement stairs. My gaze went up another set of stairs, where Rori had just gone, looking conflicted and gray.
My feet were moving without another thought, taking the steps two at a time until I reached the landing. Only one bedroom door was closed, everyone else was out stretching their legs or learning to ride motorcycles for the day.
I went up to the door and rapped my knuckles softly. “Rori? It’s Santos.”
“Come in,” came the reply.
