Eight

 

“Trains?” I repeated the word three times before I officially believed it.

Milo grinned at me, a wide, toothy smile before he spoke again. “There’s no way for us to get you all the way to the northern Deadlands in that carriage. The trains are the only reliable form of transportation.”

“How will we know which trains to take?” I looked down at the map he’d spread out on the floor in the main room of my residence. We were all staring at it.

Bryant looked up at me. “Milo here is a train genius.”

“Is that so?” I nudged him with my foot because I liked to see Milo blush a little bit. “I didn’t know being a train genius was possible.”

Milo shrugged, as though it was no big deal. “My father was one of the coal-men. He shoveled the Black Death into the fire and made the train move. After my mother was possessed, I travelled with him for a while. Saw the whole country that way. It amazed me. I know the routes.”

“That is amazing.” The trains were a dying form of transportation. The nobility rode them and shoved everyone else in cargo, if they were lucky enough to even get that, in with the cargo like the cows. I’d never even seen one. There was a train that was about half a day’s ride from here. The guys would have all arrived on that train. The training center was right by the train depot. Men were either selected at that point and eventually sent on to be guards or returned from whence they came.

“Our best option would be to leave tomorrow morning. We won’t miss connections that way. If we delay …” His voice trailed off.

Kieran, who had been quietly tapping his foot and slightly bouncing where he sat, leaned forward. “I hear something.”

He did? A knock sounded on the door. Mason shoved the hood onto my head. I quickly adjusted it, immediately hating the restrictions. The world was darker inside my hood. My three ladies came inside. Bryant stood to greet them. “Sister Anne, we asked your staff to come show us how they paint your symbols on you every day. We’re going to have to do it.”

“Highly unusual,” Bonnie chirped, crossing her arms over her chest. “She has to be naked. One of us should come with you …”

I placed my hand on her. I couldn’t converse with her, but I’d grown to respect and like her just the same. I couldn’t take her into the mines. What liberties I was taking with my guards, I couldn’t do with Bonnie, Maxie, and True. They had families, and they’d worked for the sisterhood for a long time. They liked me, that was for sure, but if I really pushed it with them, they would report me. I knew it. Despite the fact they’d let me sleep in this morning.

She sighed loudly. “It’s not for me to say what’s right and wrong. You’re going to minister to those poor people who never get help. All of the greater good and all that. Clothes off, Sister.”

The room was silent around me. They’d either not considered the fact I would be naked doing this, or they had and still didn’t know how to deal with it. Mason, Garrett, and Kieran had all seen me naked—at least partially if not all of them wholly. Bryant and Milo had not.

True came behind me and undid my dress from behind. I stepped out of it, my heart sounding in my ears. This was a lot. It was one thing to be nude one-on-one, another thing in front of all of their eyes. It didn’t make me feel cherished, sexy, or wanted. This was discomfort in its truest form. My cheeks heated under the hood, and for once I was glad for the covering.

My undergarments were removed next, and naked, in sunlight from the windows and the unforgiving factory lighting of my common room, I faced away from the men as True began to paint my back in black makeup that didn’t smudge unless the full blast of the shower got it.

“Mason?” Bryant spoke low. “Copy the images into the book.”

“Already on it.” The low whish of a pencil scratching against a paper became background noise. The women picked up their chatter like they did every day, as though the men weren’t there. Occasionally, one of the guards would ask them a question about the symbol—if the direction they painted it mattered—an angle of a line. Mostly it was Garrett who spoke. He’d been interested in the symbols when we’d been in the shower. His curiosity had not waned.

“Some of them we have; some we don’t.” He spoke to Bonnie. “Any idea why? When they gave us the shields, they told us they had our Sister’s specific symbols on them. When we came from Sister Beth to work for Sister Anne, we changed shields.”

That was a piece of information I hadn’t had before. Bryant, Mason, Garrett, and Kieran had all been together prior to being with me? Milo was new so he had only been with me. I knew Sister Beth. She seemed nice enough. Quiet, easygoing manner, middling on the power scheme. She had lovely cheekbones and blond hair that stayed put so it didn’t have to be chopped at like mine. Why had they taken four guards from her at the same time?

My heart sped up. Could they do that to me? Would they? Had she called them to her bed? Had they made love to her?

She and I barely spoke …

“All right now, we’re done.” True’s voice reached me, and I stepped back, as I always did, into my gowns. I listened to the zipper travelling upwards until it reached my neck. I extended my arms forward and the jewelry that matched my gown and some of my symbols was adorned onto my body. I turned. The three women curtsied and left the room as they always did.

I ripped the hood off my head, afraid I was about to start hyperventilating. Embarrassment rode me hard. I nodded to them fast and took myself quickly into my room before gently closing the door. I hoped they understood. I needed a minute.

And how on earth was I going to let one of them—or, by the Divinity, all of them—do that to me every day? Maybe this had been a terrible idea?

A few minutes later, a knock sounded on the bedroom door. What did they want? I took a deep breath and forced myself to sit up. “Yes. Come in.”

Milo poked his head around and then stepped in, closing the door behind him. I’d known him the least amount of time, and he’d once called me weird. Still, he was part of the group and he’d rolled with how strange things had gotten pretty well. He hadn’t made a sound the entire hour I’d been painted.

He plopped down on the bed next to me and then lay flat on his back. “That was painful to watch. How badly does that stuff itch?”

His question so surprised me I could hardly think to answer for a moment. “What?”

“That makeup? All over your skin? Does it itch? You’re all pale and freckled. You probably burn easily and have sensitivities even worse than I do. Does it itch?”

I was all pale and freckled; he was right. He’d stared at my naked backside for an hour. He’d know how horrible it looked back there even more than I did. Was my rear end attractive or a major turn off? Why did I care?

“It used to itch. But I’ve adjusted. I hardly think about it now.” He looked comfortable, lying on my bed staring at the ceiling. The guards shouldn’t have been with me; it was the middle of the day. Yet we needed to plan for the big trip, so exceptions had been made.

I lay with him, staring upwards, too. There was a crack in my ceiling, but it had always been there, a flaw to the otherwise well put together room. I used to wonder about it during my early days living alone in these quarters. Would it spread? Would it make the ceiling come down on me? If it had extended at all in the two years since I’d moved in, I hadn’t noticed it. Perhaps it was so small my eyes couldn’t detect it. Or maybe it had cracked and would never move again.

In any case, it was my crack. Seeing it here gave me comfort that sometimes things didn’t change, even after an event so strenuous as to have knocked plaster apart on my ceiling. There could be peace after chaos.

Or maybe I was just crazy.

“It looked like it would itch.”

I rubbed my eyes. “Whether it itches or not, I have to do it.”

“Why?” He turned his head to look at me. He needed to shave. Milo and I didn’t have the kind of relationship, even with him lying on my bed, where I could simply touch his chin. I wanted to, yet I wasn’t sure he’d like it.

“The symbols are a source of my power.”

He scrunched up his nose. “How does that work?”

“I have a certain natural ability. I was born with it. The seers saw my birth, and the sisterhood came and got me. Then when I was thirteen, my powers turned on. They’re uncontrollable, difficult. The initiates spend most of their time in the basement learning to handle themselves. It takes years and years. Then when we’re twenty, we emerge. The symbols are part of that control.”

Milo rolled onto his side to face me. “So when you were kicking that Incubus into yesterday, you used those symbols?”

“I …” That was a good question. “I don’t really remember using them then. That doesn’t mean I didn’t. They’re like second nature to me. I draw upon them, and they feed or control the power. Hard to explain.”

He nodded. “It’s interesting.”

I supposed it was to other people. To me, it was like trying to explain to someone my bedtime routine or why I chewed a certain way. There were things I did because I did them. Using the symbols was one of them. They enhanced my body’s natural demon-fighting power given to me by Divinity.

“So you didn’t want to continue to work the trains?”

He closed his eyes, and I thought for a second he wouldn’t answer. “They weren’t hiring twelve-year olds.”

Twelve? He was barely out of childhood. “Then what did you do?”

“Nothing good. When they came looking for people to try out for this, it seemed like a chance to live a good life. So here I am. It’s not exactly what I expected.”

I swallowed. I didn’t have to say anything else. I could have left it like that. But I spoke because it seemed like I had to. “It’s not what you expected, or I’m not what you expected?”

“Is there a difference when it comes down to it?”

I shook my head. I supposed not. Of course, he’d not told me he liked it with me, which was what I hoped would happen. Why did I ask questions that only brought me pain? A knock sounded, and Milo jumped up. He crossed to the door in two seconds. I stayed where I was, staring at my crack on the ceiling. Maybe it did seem bigger …

“Sister Anne,” Mason called from the door. “Sister Katrina wants to see you.”

I sat up, groaning. “Thanks.”

I didn’t know what she wanted, but none of it could be good. Two conversations with the Sister Superior in two weeks? Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.

Milo shut the door, leaving Mason on the other side. “Do you want me to tell her you’re not feeling well?”

“No.” I stood up. “That is the very last thing I should say. I don’t want to spend the night in the infirmary. She probably wants to make sure we have what we need.”

His gaze met my own; the hard, steady set of his eyes flashed with something I couldn’t decipher before it passed. These men would always be a mystery to me. “Okay.”

 

I sat in Sister Katrina’s chair and waited for her to speak. After I was ushered inside, she hadn’t said a word to me. Protocol dictated I wait patiently until she decided what to say. I had heard stories of her keeping Sisters waiting hours, but I’d yet to face that myself.

“I went back and forth about whether the Divinity wanted me to speak to you on this matter or not.”

I nodded. Considering how easily I had lied about the Divinity speaking to me, I couldn’t really blame her for pulling it out to make whatever point she wanted to as well. We all knew how to speak the lingo of Sisterhood when we had to.

I shifted in my seat. Whatever this was, it wasn’t going to be good.

“When I was young, just out myself, I made similar mistakes to you.”

Mistakes. What had I done? I tried to think of anything. “Can you be more specific, please?”

“I had the standard five guards, and I believed them to be the best of men. How could I not? I knew nothing of men. I’d never spoken to one. They were like mysterious gifts from the universe. Handsome and devoted to my safety.” She stood and walked to the window. “We always stick a guard that’s about to leave into the group to make sure the others are well trained, and he came and went for me. And there they were, my five. I’ll admit to you, I fell in love with each of them.”

My heart beat fast. This was entirely too close to home for me. How had she known what was going on for me? Were the guys talking to her?

She turned to face me. “I even fancied myself different. I would love them. They would love me, and somehow it would all work out. The only problem?” She turned around. “They all left. As their ten years came up, they didn’t suggest I run from here with them to live out our days in private bliss. They didn’t say ‘Marry me, Katrina, let me take you from here.’ Their contracted time came to an end, and they left. Each one. One after another. The men who had brought me to bliss every night in my bed walked away like we had never meant anything to one another. And new ones came, and they left, too. I’ve lost track of one to another. Twos become Ones, Threes becomes Two, and so on. Sometimes they die. Sometimes they have to be let go because they go mad. It doesn’t matter. Not once, not ever, do they take us with them. Because in the end, we are a job for them. Learning that killed something inside of me.”

She came back toward the desk. “The smart Sisters keep their hoods on and don’t forget.”

I could hardly breathe. After the nights I’d been having with my guards and the ways they held me and seemed to care, I had started to feel like we had a real relationship building, like it could be something significant. And yet I did know they were leaving. I’d said as much to Kieran.

“I didn’t know any of this.”

She raised her dark eyebrow. “No, of course you didn’t. When I sent them to you for sex”—I kept my face blank. We hadn’t technically had sex yet. She didn’t, however, need to know—“I assumed you would do what you always do, which is obey the rules. Sister Beth said they were quite skilled in bed. She’d started to fall for them, particularly your One. They had to be moved. She’s guarding herself better now. Do we need to have them moved? Again? Maybe as a group they’re simply too much … or they’re playing some kind of game.”

My heart officially fell into my stomach. Beth had fallen for them, too? I breathed in through my nose. “I don’t need them moved. I’ll be careful.”

“Particularly on that journey you’re taking.” She crooked her finger, and I rose, knowledge of what was about to happen making me want to throw up. “I think you need a reminder of who we are what we do. Pain is part of our life; bearing it is what we do.”

She pulled out her switch. Sister Teresa used a whip, and I preferred it to Sister Katrina’s switch. Katrina didn’t hit; she coated the weapon in a powder meant to burn. We’d called it the magic pain powder when we’d been initiates. When she used it, the already horrible sensations the switch made lasted even longer.

I could have argued with her. I could have tried. In the end, I would be switched. It was better not to make her angrier in the meantime.

She knocked on the wall, and two Sisters—Wendy and Lily—came inside. They had always been Sister Superior’s biggest supporters. I rose to my feet, placing my hands on the desk in front of me, my head down. One of them, I didn’t know which, took down my dress until it fell by my feet.

Katrina came behind me. I closed my eyes and waited for the switch.

 

When I returned to my rooms, they were empty of my guards. I wasn’t surprised. Every movement I made hurt, even picking up my hands to touch my makeup table. I stared at myself in the mirror. All light had gone from my cheeks. With each slap of the switch on my back, I’d felt the burning of the powder one second later and wondered why the universe had chosen me for this pain. Couldn’t they have given these powers to someone else?

My hood sat on top of the table, but the rest of my things were missing. I must have been packed up to leave when I’d been taking my punishment. I sunk into my chair, although doing so pulled at my sore back. The train ride was going to be really long if I couldn’t get comfortable, even in a sitting position.

Sister Katrina had certainly reminded me who I was. A leaf floating in the wind with no control over anything. While I could be kept from being torn to shreds with someone watching over me, I’d never have any say in what the wind did to me or where I landed next.

Beth had once loved my guards, and it hurt my heart to think about it—even if that was stupid. They’d all be leaving me eventually anyway. I had to figure out how to be happy in my own company. I had to figure out how to be Sister Anne, whomever I turned out to be over time, without ever becoming Sister Katrina. I had to be stronger.

 

* * *

I walked as normally as I could manage, hooded and miserable, toward my carriage. We’d drive through the night toward the train station and board in the morning. My three ladies adjusted my images without commenting about the beating I’d taken. This was, unfortunately, not the first time they’d had to do makeup over the switch marks. It was a special kind of hell to not cry out. But if they were reporting back to Sister Superior, I wanted her to hear I had been strong.

My guards were lined up as I expected them, except that Five stood in Three’s spot. I stopped in front of One.

“Are we ready to go?”

He nodded. “Yes, Sister. All is ready. Are you … well?”

“I am prepared for what is to come.” I stepped around him and into the carriage. My hood meant I didn’t have to hide my wince when I sat in what was usually a pretty comfortable seat. Today, it felt like nails travelled up and down my spine.

Five sat across from me, and the door shut on our carriage. I wanted to know why they had changed roles, but I didn’t ask. If I was going to put some emotional distance between us, I was going to have to figure out how to control my chattiness.

The carriage lunged forward, and I didn’t cry out in pain. Small victories.

Five leaned forward and took my hood off my head. He grinned before he sat back. “We really love that you’re not wearing that thing anymore when we’re alone.”

I swallowed. Words stalled inside of me. My back burned; my muscles ached. Maybe I could figure out how to be emotionally non-invested later. Five’s smile fell.

“You’re so pale.”

I raised my stiff arm and rubbed my neck. “I know.”

He scooted across the small carriage until he was next to me. He placed a cool hand on my forehead. “You’re hot.”

“Sometimes that happens with the powder the Sister used on me.” I closed my eyes. “Don’t worry. I’ve survived it before. I will this time, too. I need to sit and wait it out.”

Milo—I couldn’t continue to think of him as Five—put his arm around my shoulder, and I groaned. “She hurt you.”

I opened my lids. “I needed to be reminded of who I am.”

“And the beating did that, did it?” Milo’s accent shifted slightly. The last part of his question sounded less polished than the way he usually spoke. More like True, one of the women who painted my back, and less like the fixed Northern accent, his usual lilt. I was making him mad. He’d be so glad when he could get out of this carriage with me.

The weird sister who got beaten and dragged him around the country when he should be spending the next ten years not having to ever go further than a few hours from home.

“It did something. I’m sorry. I can’t talk. I’m burning. I need to be quiet. I’m sorry that you got stuck with me, Milo. I swear the rest of the Sisterhood doesn’t have these kinds of constant upheavals.”

He pressed my head gently onto his shoulder. At first the movement hurt, but it quickly changed. I liked the way it felt to have someone to touch. I closed my eyes.

 

When I woke up again, my powers were online. Milo jolted slightly next to me, and I looked up at him. A small smile crossed his face. “Your powers are like a wind moving through me. It doesn’t hurt, makes me aware in a different kind of a way. Does that make any sense to you?”

I cleared my throat. “I’ve never heard that the guards could feel the Sisters’ powers, so I’m afraid not.”

“You’re still hot, and we’ve still got several hours until we get to the trains.”

Maybe the fact that the powder hadn’t worn off was why my powers felt like they pounded at me, a thousand needles on my skin. I wasn’t supposed to use them when I was sick. Usually, they left me alone. What was going on?

“How badly are you hurt, Anne?”

I didn’t object to the use of my name. We’d established rules. He was still following them.

“I’ll live.”

He kissed the top of my head. “Not good enough.”

Why did Milo have to be so sweet? “I hurt.”

“This is ridiculous. I have to see what I’m dealing with here. I can help you if you tell me what it is, exactly, that was done to you.”

I listened to the clip-clap of the horses and the way the carriage rolled over the ground. “She took a switch to me and added some burning powder to it.”

“Well, then, first things first, we’re taking that powder off.”

He made it sound so simple. “It’s made not to do that.”

“Fuck—oh, I’m sorry, Anne. Bad habit. I shouldn’t curse.”

Actually, I appreciated the sentiment.