Harmony. No! It would kill her.

Judah leaned in further, awaiting my response. The sudden anger that had built up inside burst free. With a spurt of strength, I tackled Judah to the ground. My brother, no match for me in strength or skill, fell onto his back. I slammed my hand over his mouth to keep him quiet, wrapping the other hand around his neck. Judah struggled on the floor, thrashing beneath me. As I met his eyes, I saw pure fear and shock staring back at me.

Adrenaline surged through my veins. My hands shook with the enormity of what I was about to do. My hand tightened around Judah’s neck and I began to squeeze. Judah clawed at my arms, his nails raking at my flesh. But he had never fought before. My five years with the Hangmen had taught me how to fight. They had taught me how to kill. Efficiently and quickly.

Without mercy.

“No,” Judah mouthed as I pushed hard on his throat, watching his skin begin to mottle with red. His body was becoming starved of oxygen. I told myself to look away from Judah’s eyes. I knew I had to make the kill, but as Judah’s gaze locked on mine, I couldn’t tear my eyes away.

“No,” Judah whispered again, his lips turning blue. “Brother . . . ” he begged, his eyes watering. As the tears built in Judah’s eyes, each one felt like a dagger piercing my chest. My determination to kill him, to actually see this through, began to wane as our lives flashed before my eyes. Judah laughing beside me as we grew up alone, just him and me. Judah always by my side as I struggled with understanding the scriptures. His open arms greeting me, when I fled from the Hangmen. He had asked no questions of me. Had no doubts in me . . . he was my little brother . . . he was all I had . . .

“Why?” I rasped, as hot tears built in my eyes, scalding my cheeks when they fell. “Why did you have to fuck all this up for us?”

Judah tried to shake his head to explain. My hand was an iron vise around his neck. Judah’s nails struck harder into my flesh as I growled, “You were meant to stand by my side, even if I fucked up. You swore you would always be with me, that you would always support me. Why the fuck did you have to turn on me? Why the fuck did you have to have so much venom in your heart that you would destroy our people and our faith in your quest for blood?”

My eyes bored into his. Judah scrunched his eyes shut. I watched his mouth as he tried to communicate. When he did, it broke my heart in two. “I am . . . sorry . . . brother . . . ” he said, opening his eyes. “I am sorry I failed you . . . Cain . . . I . . . I love you . . . ”

A roar ripped from my throat and my hands fell from around his neck. He was my brother. He was my fucking brother! “I can’t,” I said as I slumped back onto my legs. “You’re all I have. I can’t . . . ”

Judah coughed and sputtered, his starved lungs sucking in breath after breath of much-needed air. Looking back at me over his shoulder, he scurried to the steps that led to the raised part of the room. I waited for him to speak. I held out my hand, willing him to take it.

I wanted him to communicate with me, to tell me he’d listen to what I had to say. Instead, my heart fell when he shouted, “Guards! GUARDS!”

Three guards came bursting into the room. They ran to Judah and helped him to his feet. Judah pointed at me. “Take him away and punish him.” Judah cleared his husky throat, rubbing at his already bruising neck. “He just tried to kill me. He just tried to murder your prophet!”

The disciple guards whipped around to face me, a savage rage on their bearded faces. I didn’t even react. I knew what my fate was. They would kill me. I almost laughed at the irony. I had tried to kill Judah, but I couldn’t. Despite his flaws, in the end, I loved him too much. He was my brother, my twin . . . my best and only friend.

I couldn’t end his life.

He clearly had no such loyalty to me. I could see that as he glared down at me on the floor, a small victorious smirk etched on his lips. His triumph over me. His power of me. I let my body drag as the guards launched me to my feet. I kept my eyes on Judah until we reached the door.

“Brother,” I heard, just as we were about to exit. The guards spun me around so I was looking up at Judah, standing in the center of the highest step. “This is why you would never have been able to do this, to lead our people. When push came to shove, you could not see this killing through, even though you felt it right to do so. You feel too much. You always have. You have a conflicted conscience in a damned and evil world.” He let his hand fall to his side. “In the end, your good heart was your demise. You are a weight that I have carried for years. A weight, today, I gladly will rid myself of. Good hearts, brother, have no place when leading people on the right path. They only stand in your way.”

As the guards dragged me to the punishment room, as they strung me up like Jesus on the cross, as they beat my body until I was sure I would soon be dead, all I could think was that Judah was wrong.

Hung up on this wooden cross, dying slowly with every punch to my ribs, chest and stomach, I felt no light in my heart. I only felt darkness consuming my soul. I only felt hatred forcing my heart to keep beating.

I felt evil flood my veins. And for once, I didn’t try to resist it. I embraced it. Gone was Prophet Cain; in his place, was a devil reborn.

One that bore no resemblance to the man before.

Chapter Eight

Harmony

I paced the cell as day faded to night. The door to my cell opened, and Brother Stephen and Sister Ruth sneaked through. “Has he returned?” I asked hurriedly.

“No,” Sister Ruth replied, and I felt my heart fall with dread.

“What are they doing to him?” I asked. Rider had been quiet for days and days. I missed the man that spoke to me so sweetly those first few days in my cell. I held my hand to my chest and shut my eyes. The man that held my hand was sweet and full of grace. But over the past few days, he had grown distant. Something was torturing his mind. He never confided what that was. He never confided much of anything.

Not that I shared my heart either. The secrets that were becoming harder and harder to bear.

And now he had not returned from his punishment. I felt another wave of dread in my gut. Something was not right. I could just feel it.

The sound of low voices came from outside my cell. I looked at Brother Stephen and Sister Ruth in alarm. They ducked out of the cell and I rushed to the corner where I normally sat. I listened intently as the sound of the prophet’s guards came from the hallway. I prayed that Rider was with them. I listened hard to every move, and heard Rider’s cell door opening, then a thud, as if someone had been hurled to the floor.