Heart Recaptured (Hades Hangmen #2)(41)

“Rise,” I instructed. They immediately did as I asked. A red-haired woman stepped forward and gestured to the pulpit and the microphone.

I saw Judah nod at her in approval and had to ebb a smile. Judah had told me he was interested in a female. I assumed this was her.

“Your name, sister?” I asked, and her eyes widened in surprise. It still took me back by how my people were around me. They praised me, worshipped me, and I felt completely unworthy of it all. An imposter.

“Phebe, sir,” she replied with a slight tremor in her voice.

“Thank you, Sister Phebe,” I said, smiling.

As a blush crept up her cheeks, she covertly cast a glance at Judah. He indicated with a dip of the chin that she had done well. Sister Phebe beamed her joy.

Turning slowly, I faced my congregation and almost lost my footing. The sea of eyes staring back at me was astounding; row upon row of my followers seemed to go on for miles. The gravity, the sheer importance of my calling to these people suddenly hit home and, drawing in a deep breath, I walked to the microphone to do what I had been trained to do. With every step my legs shook, my breathing stuttered and a pit of unease ran through my veins.

Thinking through the speech that my council had helped me construct, I steeled my nerves and resolved to my fate, acted out the role I was expected to fulfill.

“My people, my heart is filled with the utmost joy as I gaze upon you this evening. We have all gathered here tonight to mark our new beginning, our genesis, here at our new home… our promised land… our New Zion!”

The people began to nod and smile. Conditioned to sit still until the prophet called for celebration, they obediently stayed calm and waited for me to speak.

“The past few months at The Order have been very difficult. Our faith has been tested and stretched to the very brink of our collective sanity. Many lives were lost. Our sacred first prophet was killed while practicing his duty to bring us God’s new revelations.” The men and women were openly weeping; sniffs and cries greeted my words. Strangely, those actions brought with them a sense of power, and I felt a sense of acceptance that I had never felt before settle within me. These people were lost. They needed my help. Fueled by adrenalin, I continued.

“But do not weep. Do not mourn for our fallen leader. He was the first messenger sent to us by the Lord, to teach us the path to righteousness. He is with the Lord now, content in paradise, and that is truly a blessed place to be. A place we will all one day be.”

The soft cries stopped, and I looked across to Judah and the elders. Their expressions assured me I was doing this correctly. Many thoughts ran through my mind as my hands shook with excitement. Maybe this was where I was supposed to be? Right here on this altar, dressed in ceremonial robes and preaching the Lord’s words.

A woman in the front caught my eye. A woman who was looking upon me like I was the answer to her prayers. It made me feel strong… it made me feel different. It made me feel alive.

“We have been breeched and attacked by evil, by Satan’s agents on Earth. But like all of God’s prophets—Moses, Noah and Abraham—these trials and tribulations assure the Lord of our unwavering devotion. These challenges on Earth will be rewarded in the hereafter.”

My people became antsy, some throwing their head back in prayer and others holding their hands in the air in agreement with my sermon.

I felt floored as I realized that I was the cause of their rapture.

I was doing this to them.

My words… they were powerful… worthy…

I smiled and suddenly felt filled with a powerful force, one that seemed to eliminate any residual nerves. I became filled with the conviction of our cause, my heart racing as I felt reborn.

I was doing this to them… me! They were bowing down to me!

A wash of the breeze over my skin felt like a cleansing of a river. Like I was being baptized.

Reborn.

I was being reborn, and my people were witnessing this act. This God appointed act.

Rider, the man who was lost, hurt and spurned by the woman he loved, burned by the brothers he held dear drifted away on the breeze and Cain, the man I had been groomed to be since birth, stepped forth.

Blinking, and feeling rejuvenated, I preached, “Tonight, I ascend as your prophet, as God’s vessel to his devout followers. And he has spoken to me, guided me, and revealed the action we must take.”

A hush fell upon the commune, and I waited for the perfect moment to continue. A soft wind blew, shaking the trees, and I smiled. This somehow felt… right. Fated. Prophesized.

“Our Lord has called for us to unite, to join together against evil, against those who try to destroy our faith, against those who would distort the infallible and perfect word of our creator.”

My people leaned forward, hanging on my every word. When I looked to my right, Judah and the elders were doing the same. I had them in the palm of my hand.

“The devil walks among us, and I know this to be true. I have lived with his denizens, walked alongside them, and witnessed their sinful ways. It cannot be tolerated and it must be stopped. We, the chosen people of New Zion, have been given a crusade to exact revenge on those who wronged us, those who murdered our holy brothers. Mark this night as history among our people. For tonight I call Bellum Sanctum… a Holy War against Hades and all those who defend him, all those who spread their immorality and wickedness like a plague.”