My Maddie (Hades Hangmen #8)(46)

The snakes body began crawling over my skin. I held my breath. I didn’t want it to feel the flames in my blood. I didn’t want it to bite me. I wanted to be free of the flames. I wanted to be saved. I wanted God to save me, then my poppa would like me, would want me. Maybe if they went, he would love me, and he wouldn’t have to cleanse me with his seed anymore. It hurt so much, and I didn’t like the cellar. It was so cold.

But then the snake struck and sank its teeth into my chest. I roared out, as it moved along to my stomach and bit me again. My cheeks were wet again. I squeezed my eyes shut as the snake kept on biting. My body went numb and I wasn’t able to fight the truth anymore—I was still evil. I was still filled with the devil’s flames. Poppa still wouldn’t like me. He would still hurt me when he cleansed me. The snake bit me more and more, but no longer felt it.

I didn’t notice they had removed it from my body, until I heard Pastor Hughes say, “Now him.”

I rolled my head to the side and saw them cut Isaiah’s shirt from his chest. He had tattoos too. He had flames on his skin like mine. “No,” I said, but my voice was croaked and weak. Why would he have flames tattooed on his skin.

Isaiah turned his head to me. “Flame? Flame? Please?” I saw a tear fall from Isaiah’s black eyes. The pain in my chest was so strong that I thought my heart had broken. But when Pastor Hughes brought the snake to Isaiah’s chest I couldn’t look away. It wouldn’t bite him. He was good. He was pure. My brother wasn’t like me. He was better than me. Not evil.

The snake left Pastor Hughes’s hands and crawled over Isaiah’s body. I watched the snake as it slithered over his skin. Then the snake bit down into Isaiah’s flesh. Isaiah screamed out. My heart started slamming against my ribs. No, no, no. Isaiah was good. It was why he had died in my arms. My evil had infected him, then killed him. The flames had scalded him to death. But I watched as the snake kept on biting Isaiah, drawing blood, leaving its mark of two holes all over his skin. Two holes that told me he had evil in his blood too. Isaiah’s cheeks were wet. He was crying. I hated it when Isaiah cried. Blood smeared all over his skin. When Pastor Hughes took the snake back, he and poppa laughed.

“This is just too much fucking fun,” Poppa said and then moved away toward the fire.

Isaiah turned to me. “Flame…” he pleaded. I didn’t know how to help him. He was evil too. He had demons in his blood too. The snake showed that he did. Like me, he was evil too. Had I condemned him? Had my flames stayed with him after death? Had he been brought back to me with evil in his blood?

Isaiah turned his eyes toward to the clearing. Poppa and Pastor Hughes had put the snakes away and dragged the girl in the cage out onto the grass. Then they released their holy seed inside her. One by one they cleansed her with their seed. She must have been evil too, that’s why they were cleansing her. Maybe that was why her mouth was sewn shut with thick black thread, so the evil couldn’t escape from her body if she spoke.

“Flame. How the fuck are we gonna get out from this?” Isaiah asked. I had no answer. I was numbed by the truth that Isaiah was evil too. And I was never getting rid of the flames. The demons were never gonna go. I was never gonna be healed.

The flames grew hotter, burning me from the inside. But I let them burn. As Poppa and Pastor Hughes cleansed the bitch on the ground, I just let the flames burn.





Chapter Eight


Maddie



“We’re not far out now, Madds,” AK informed me from the driver’s seat. I swallowed the nerves I was trying to conceal from the others with a simple nod. I cast my gaze outside of the van, into the gathering dusk beyond. With each mile we drove an uneasy feeling grew upon my heart. I did not know what we would be walking into—something in my soul told me that it would not be good. But how could it be? Flame and Asher had fled the safety and love of our home to track down the men who started the fire, with the single focus to harm them, no, to rob them of their lives.

“Are you well, Maddie?” Sister Ruth asked. She checked my pulse.

“Yes,” I replied and held my head high. Sister Ruth had been diligent with my care in the hours we had been on the road. We had made no stops. I had not planned to. Getting to Flame and Asher was my sole focus. The Hangmen had pulled away from the van yet remained visible up ahead. I could see their taillights through the windshield. One by one their lights switched from amber to red. I leaned forward as AK pulled the van up behind them.

“Flame and Ash’s bikes,” Viking said, serious for once. In fact, he had scarcely cracked one joke on our travels to this place. AK showed his concern for Flame on his sleeve, and always had. But Viking was ever the comedian, the one to break tension with jokes and laughter—inappropriate as they generally were. However, no jokes accompanied us to the abandoned bikes. It served to tell me how worried Viking was for his best friend. Many times, throughout the drive I had wanted to place my hand on his shoulder, to offer him comfort. AK had Phebe, Zane and Sapphira. Viking was alone, save for his Hangmen brothers. I was not sure if he ever shared his burdens with another without the backdrop of comedy.

AK pulled the van to a halt and got out. Bella reached for my hands. “He will be well, sister. I believe it.”

I kept my eyes on Styx and Ky, and the other men who had circled the bikes. I could not answer Bella for fear I would fall apart. The van door opened and AK stood on the other side. “We’re going in. Y’all stay here. We’re leaving Rudge here with y’all.” He met Rider’s eyes. “Grab a gun, you’re watching them too.”