“You are all here for a reason. You’ve all done terrible things. Some of you have secrets you haven’t even told your friends.”

  He looked right at me when he said this which all but announced those words were meant for me and me alone.

  At first, I thought he was referring to our secret, but by this point, he’d alluded that someone close to me didn’t have pure intentions one too many times.

  I couldn’t continue to ignore what he was trying to tell me. It was fucking insane to trust him or anything he had to say, but it could be argued I wasn’t exactly sane myself.

  I only had three friends.

  Ryker was the one who gifted me this vacation. That couldn’t have worked out any better in his favor because he knew who I would take along with me. He wanted all of us here for a reason.

  As he continued speaking, I zoned out, trying to remember everything in exact detail. My mind added a few more puzzle pieces to the bigger picture and my stomach sunk as it dawned on me.

  One of the girls knew this was going to happen.

  Two were currently side eyeing me, trying to decipher what was going on between me and the man that took us. The third was missing.

  I ignored Camilla and Lilly for not only my temper’s sake, but my mental state too.

  There was no proof to confirm my suspicions and now wasn’t the time to accuse.

  So I kept my eyes trained on the three men ahead, brows furrowing when Bishop turned around and opened the box I’d almost forgotten about.

  Ryker continued speaking, elaborating on what our days would consist of.

  “Every Tuesday and Thursday you will give me your grievances, confess your darkest sins. And in the end, you will be granted one of two things.”

  Without moving from where he stood, he held up a hand and wordlessly accepted the twisted blade Bishop had just retrieved.

  The metal glinted in the candlelight as he brought it around and pressed it against Susan’s throat.

  She sucked in a breath and began to tremble violently, naturally terrified.

  “You will find absolution, or I will give you salvation.” With that, he dragged the serrated metal across her soft flesh, splitting it apart.

  A loud gush of air blew from Susan’s mouth just before she began to choke on her own life force. Her eyes went so wide it seemed the whites would overflow from the sockets.

  Blood spurted like an old ketchup bottle nearing empty, hitting the marble floor like soft, falling raindrops.

  Ryker held Susan by the hair and dragged his knife back across her flesh in the opposite direction, widening the already ugly wound to the point we could see the inside of her throat.

  The remaining girl in front of me turned her head and hid it in the boy’s shoulder.

  I watched everything, rooted in place, my gaze ensnared by some invisible force. I may have seen plenty of dead bodies, but I’d never witnessed anything like this.

  The room filled with a whisper that grew to a roar from the left side of the chapel, the four principles being chanted with morbid vigor.

  “Charm is deceptive.

  Beauty is deceitful.

  Freedom is an illusion.

  Survival is subjective.”

  Ryker shoved Susan away from him and passed the blade to Pope.

  Her body fell to the floor, twitching for all of five seconds before going utterly still, a puddle of blood forming beneath her.

  I looked from where she had fallen to where Ryker was still standing. He was already staring at me.

  There was a smile full of wickedness painted on his angelic face.

  When he spoke again it was so loud his voice echoed.

  “Welcome to Malignant!”

  Three words that would stick with me until my dying day.

  PART TWO

  CHAPTER NINE

  Faith

  I was completely unprepared for what happened next.

  Ryker stepped away from the altar, and an immediate hush fell over the room. He made his way around Susan’s body and approached the section where I was sitting.

  “Faith.” He said my name softly, almost like a velvet whisper, overturning both of his hands so the palms were facing up before offering them to me.

  I didn’t move.

  I couldn’t.

  I kept my ass planted on the wooden bench and just stared at him.

  “Come here, pretty girl,” he urged in the same gentle tone.

  Using his nickname for me was a low blow. He knew how much I adored it.

  I felt foolish for being affected by two simple words. But they were two simple words that made me feel so many emotions.

  My eyes shifted from him to Susan’s lifeless body and then back to him. Was I next?

  “That could never be you,” Ryker said, plucking the thought from my head.

  “Don’t go,” Camilla rasped.

  I felt penetrating stares from every direction. If he truly wanted to, all he had to do was say the word, and I would be hauled to the front by his guards, or he could drag me up there himself.

  He was giving me the option to stand up and walk on my own.

  “What are you going to do to me?” I asked him.

  “Come with me and find out.” He moved in a bit closer. This time I stood up.

  “Faith, no!” Lilly suddenly hissed, grabbing hold of my wrist.

  I shook her off without looking in her direction, still coming to terms with the fact that one of my closest friends had, or was, betraying me—and it could very well be her.

  “This is going to happen whether I go willingly or not.” I exhaled a quiet breath and placed both my hands in his. The same hands that had just slit a girl’s throat.

  Swallowing, I went to move past Camilla, expecting him to walk with me down the pew like he had Susan.

  A surprised gasp left my mouth when instead he pulled me forward and lifted me into his arms.

  “What are you doing with her?” Camilla asked as he carried me away. Unsurprisingly, she wasn’t given a response.

  During the very brief walk back to the altar, the scent of him comforted me in a way that I couldn’t explain. Maybe it was merely my brain trying to find something about this situation that gave a false sense of security.

  Perhaps I was still seeking some semblance of shelter from the surrealism of this situation. Or maybe those were just excuses I told myself because the truth made me question who I was.

  Bishop and Pope moved further apart so that Ryker could easily set me down on the stone structure.

  He lifted both my legs and turned my body, so that I was sideways before taking a step back.

  Cognizant that there was nothing beneath the teddy I had on I tugged the fabric down so that everything remained covered.

  “What is going on?” I asked.

  “It’s time for you to be branded.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that.

  At all.

  His words were like a silent command, the room exploded into a flurry of activity.

  A pair of cool, very large hands clamped down on my shoulders and forced me to lay flat on my back.

  I found myself staring up into Pope’s coal black eyes.

  “Let go of me!”

  Attempting to sit up, I lunged off the altar as if I were doing a crunch.

  A whimper flew from my mouth as I was instantly slammed back down, pain ricocheting from the back of my head to the front as it made contact with the solid stone beneath me.

  Bishop moved in and took hold of my flailing legs. Using his upper body strength, he forced them to remain still.

  “What are you doing?” I yelled at them.

  I looked over when red flashed in my peripheral.

  One of the girls deemed as an apostle stood a few feet away, a candle within her hands.

  With his back to me and bloodied knife returned, Ryker held the blade above the flickering flame. He stayed like that for only a minute or two before turning around and coming to my side.

  “This is going to hurt,” he said, pulling my teddy all the way up past my hips.

  His eyes lingered on the scar near my bikini line but he didn’t comment on it. He never did.

  “Ryker, please!” I clenched my thighs together to gain some sense of dignity. Humiliation and fear trickled through my veins. “Please,” I repeated, voice wavering as he brought the knife closer to my stomach.

  He finally looked at my face, giving me a half-smile. “You beg so well, Faith. Beg a little more, I’ll make it fast.”

  I didn’t have time to brace myself. The heated end tip of the blade touched my skin. I screamed, body reflexively trying to get away from the source of pain.

  I went nowhere; the two men holding me down had successfully immobilized me.

  My pleas were ignored.

  The air around us was filled with soft murmurs and Camilla’s voice, demanding for him to stop before what sounded like a scuffle broke out, and she fell silent.

  I tried to see what was happening but the three men blocked my view from the rest of the chapel.

  Using precision and careful concentration Ryker dug his knife into my flesh.

  It hurt like nothing I’d ever felt before. He pressed into my skin hard enough to split it open but not as deep as to hit something vital.

  A stream of blood began to trail across my navel as helpless tears fell from my eyes.

  When the blade cooled the same girl from before was signaled to approach with her candle. The blade was reheated and then pressed directly over the wounds he’d just inflicted.

  The searing pain was too much. I drew in a deep breath, and with it the scent of my burnt flesh.

  “Beg,” Ryker demanded, pressing even harder.

  I didn’t know what he wanted me to say. Desperate as I was for the pain to go away, I began to plead his name, still fighting to break free.

  He studied my face closely before coming to some inner decision. With a nod to Pope, the knife was lifted from my skin, taking bits of flesh with it.

  One of Pope’s hands disappeared and I immediately reached down to feel what Ryker had done.

  He stopped me just as Pope jabbed me with another syringe.

  I stared into his eyes, searching for the man I’d come to love. And I saw him staring back at me with all the hidden pieces I’d somehow missed.

  Knowing from the last time what was going to happen, to save myself from further humility I dropped my head back and shut my eyes, this time eager for the darkness to claim me.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Ryker

  I admired the blade as I waited for Pope’s return.

  The chapel had been cleared of everyone but Bishop, Megan, and two of my patrolmen.

  Susan’s body was currently being incinerated as she had nothing I neither wanted nor needed.

  Upstairs, Faith was in bed, comfortably sedated. I’d had this dose made a bit stronger, wanting her asleep until I could get to her.

  My balls were blue and aching for release; seeing her delicious body tremble in pain hadn’t done me any favors.

  I’d been waiting to get her between legs again for far too long. I planned to fuck her as many times as humanly possible until she took her last breath.

  I wanted my skin chafed, and her pussy black and blue.

  “She still trusts you,” Bishop remarked.

  He placed the silver box in my line of vision and I returned the knife to its resting place.

  “I told you she would. I’ve known her for eight years. I expect to have her home by the end of next week.”

  “Such confidence,” he joked.

  “About the same amount you seem to think you’ll have with Camilla.”

  He snapped the lid of the box closed and sat it back on the altar.

  “I’m here for pleasure play, remember? You’re here to be the devil’s advocate and give your precious halo a break. And Pope’s here because he’s the most fucked up saint we’ve ever met.”

  The mention of him seemed to conjure the man up.

  A stream of sunlight streamed down the chapel aisle as Pope entered.

  The brown leather satchel I’d sent him to retrieve was slung over his right shoulder.

  I glanced at the redhead sitting with her head bowed in the front pew. She knew she was about to be punished and hadn’t once asked why.

  “Come up here, Megan.”

  As quiet as a mouse she stood and came to stand directly in front of me. She was a tiny thing, coming in at almost exactly five feet.

  I took her off the streets two years ago. She’d been nothing but a prostitute selling her ass for meager amounts of money.

  I’d saved her. Cleaned her up and taught her the Malignant way. Up until today, I hadn’t had any issues with her, but once was enough in this case.

  Reaching out, I pinched her chin between my thumb and index finger, forcing her to look at me. “Do you know what you did wrong?”

  “Yes. I said too much. I overstepped a boundary,” she confessed with no urging on my end.

  Pope circled us and placed the satchel on the altar.

  “Go to your knees.”

  Releasing a shaky breath, she diverted her gaze to the floor and dropped to her knees. Her nimble fingers immediately reached for my pants.

  “No, that’s not what we’re doing today.”

  “Or ever again,” Bishop laughed under his breath, rounding around to stand by Megan’s right side.

  She looked up at me in confusion, wondering what I was going to do.

  She’d always paid her penance with her lips wrapped around my dick. More often than not she did all three of us back to back, eagerly.

  But that was before Faith came back into the picture. I didn’t need her anymore. Bishop had set his interest elsewhere, and Pope killed every woman he fucked after a few weeks. He also had a type and Megan wasn’t it.

  “I don’t understand,” she said, looking past me to where Pope was digging in the satchel.

  “You said too much, sweetheart,” Bishop answered, crouching down so they were almost eye level.

  Sensing Pope’s approach, I side-stepped a bit to make room for him beside me.

  Megan’s eyes skimmed over our faces before settling on the two instruments Pope had in his hands.

  She instantly tried to stand but Bishop was quicker than she was.

  He knotted a hand in her hair and brought her right back to her knees. She released a yelp of pain that echoed throughout the chapel.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to!” Her hands reached for me again.

  I stepped back, easily avoiding them. What did she expect from me? Her lack of control could have ruined everything.

  Faith wasn’t ready to hear half the things Megan had alluded to. All she’d done correctly is tell her she wasn’t going to die.

  “Sorry is such a trivial, pointless word. Something someone has a tendency to say after a tragedy or they’ve done something wrong. It never really fixes anything.”

  I glanced over at Pope and eyed the two tools he’d retrieved.

  “Hold or cut?”

  “You know I always cut,” he answered, handing me the metal tongs and keeping the butcher’s knife for himself.

  “Let’s get this over with. I need to be home by nine tonight.”

  “Wouldn’t want you to suffer Skyler’s wrath,” Bishop joked. He moved to stand Megan and pulled her arms behind her back.

  “You don’t have to do this,” she cried, staring up at me with tear-filled eyes.

  “Of course I don’t have to. I want to.” I stepped forward and knelt, taking hold of her jaw. “Now be a good girl and stick out your tongue.”

  She made an indecipherable sound and tried to shake her head.

  “You know how much worse this is going to be if you don’t listen,” Bishop coddled, adjusting his grip on her arms.

  I felt her teeth clench together and knew she wasn’t going to make this easy— not that I particularly blamed her.

  Was this cruel? Yes. Unnecessary? That was debatable. It didn’t matter, my mind was made up the second I’d watched everything on the surveillance cameras.

  “Isn’t there something else? You know I’d do anything.” she pleaded.

  “I can’t risk you potentially giving away anything. You have a loose tongue, Megan. We’re going to fix that.”

  “Pleas—.”

  I clamped down on her little pink tongue with my tongs, causing her sentence to end in a squeal.

  She yelled some more, uselessly attempting to break free from Bishop’s hold.

  I leaned back but kept my arm outstretched, squeezing the utensil.

  “Don’t move,” Pope warned a second before bringing the knife down.

  I turned my head as the thick blade sliced into Megan’s flimsy tongue.

  Blood shot out and connected with my cheek. A screech loud enough to shatter windows erupted in result, sounding garbled due to the copious amount of blood leaking from her mouth.

  Keeping hold of my tongs, I rose back to my feet, taking the severed piece of her severed tongue with me.

  “Go see your girl. We can handle the rest of this,” Pope said to me before he walked off to place the knife back in his satchel.

  I opened the tongs and let the end of her tongue drop to the floor.

  “The smallest parts always seem to bleed the most,” Bishop mused, now standing as well.

  Megan cupped her hands’ over her mouth. Blood slipped through her fingers as she coughed and sobbed pitifully.

  “Here, take these.” I handed him the tongs and sidestepped around Megan, patting her head on my way past. She would be just fine after the stump left in her mouth was cauterized, and some pain meds kicked in.

  “I’ll call you two in the morning.”

  “Where are you going?” Bishop called after me.

  “I’m taking the scenic route.”

  I needed some time to gather my thoughts, but that wasn’t information I felt needed to be sharing at the moment.

  A guard saw me coming and quickly pulled open the chapel doors so I could exit. I gave him a friendly nod and stepped out into the waiting sunlight.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Faith

  I woke enveloped in warmth with a soft mattress beneath my back.