Karen Whiddon - Wyoming Undercover

Both women nodded.

“Good. Ana, come with me,” he barked, turning to hurry away. As Sophia watched them go, she realized Thomas and his two assistants had already disappeared.

Aware she might be stuck here awhile, even after her shift had technically ended, she pulled up the visitor’s chair and planted herself in it. While she wasn’t allowed any reading material at work, she did keep a pad of paper and a good pen. Sometimes she drew, sometimes she wrote poetry or amusing short stories. When she’d finished, she always destroyed whatever she’d created, fearful that someone would see.

The stranger in the bed stirred. Not a full move, just a jerky shifting of his position and a hitch in his breath. She put her untouched paper and pen aside to study him. His thick, dark hair was nearly black. Wondering if it would feel as silky as it looked, she glanced around once before she reached out and drew a few strands of it through her fingers. Yep. Exactly as she’d thought.

Her touch apparently made the man restless. He began tossing his head from side to side, muttering under his breath. When he gave a loud groan, she stood, eyeing the machines that monitored his heartbeat and blood pressure. While they’d climbed a little, the numbers remained well within the realm of normal.

When, after a moment, he didn’t move again, she sat back down. She felt confident he’d wake soon and, when he did, no doubt he’d have a lot of questions. She suspected this was why Dr. Drew had requested immediate notification. He wanted to be the one to give the answers.

But she wouldn’t press that buzzer until the patient had regained full consciousness. She’d learned the hard way that one of the worst things she could do was waste the doctor’s precious time.

Sighing, she debated reaching for her pad of paper again. Her fingers itched to sketch the chiseled planes of this man’s face. But such a drawing would take time and she didn’t want to be caught with it, so she remained empty-handed, simply watching. And waiting.

When he opened his eyes and focused on her, she caught her breath. They were blue, a peculiar light shade that almost appeared gray.

“Where am I?” he rasped, wincing as he tried to lift his head.

Now she knew she had to call the doctor. “Just a minute,” she told him, trying to sound soothing. “I need to—” Her words cut off as he shot out his hand and gripped her wrist. Hard.

“Don’t lie. Tell me where in the hell I am.”

Shocked, she tried to pull free. His grip was surprisingly strong for one so recently injured. Finally she succeeded in yanking out of his grasp and rushed to press the buzzer. Once she’d accomplished this, she spun around, chest heaving. “The doctor will be right in.” Of course, she was short of breath.

He didn’t respond. With his eyes narrowed and his jaw hardened, he looked dangerous. A jagged thrill shot through her, again making her question her sanity.

Then Dr. Drew arrived, Ana close on his heel.

“Here’s our patient,” the doc exclaimed. His tone and expression both were far too jovial—completely unlike him. Sophia and Ana exchanged a quick glance. More proof that this patient, whoever he might be, had some stature.

“You have quite the nasty wound on the back of your head, but we’ve got you fixed up. You’ll soon be as good as new.”

“Thomas has been notified,” Ana put in. “He is on his way here.”

At her words, the patient swung his head toward her. “Thomas?” The name came out a snarl. “That’s exactly who I want to see. He’s sure as hell got some explaining to do.” Crossing his muscular arms, he glared at Ana, then Sophia and lastly Dr. Drew.

No one said anything. Even Dr. Drew didn’t dare cross someone who mattered to Thomas and, by extension, Ezekiel.

The silence felt incredibly awkward. To everyone except, apparently, the patient.

“Well?” he demanded. “What’s the holdup? Where’s Thomas? One minute I’m getting into his car and the next—”

“You’re here. Very good.” Thomas strode into the room, cutting him off. “I’ll need a few moments alone with Jack,” he said. “Everyone clear out.”

Of course they did exactly that, without hesitation or question. Prompt adherence to rules was one of the reasons COE ran so smoothly. No petty differences or spite or hate. Everyone knew their place and what they had to do and they did it. Sophia had always found that very comforting.

Until now, she realized. Now that she was facing a forced marriage to a powerful but elderly man, she felt a seed of resentment sprouting.

As she exited the room, she noted that Thomas’s two bodyguards had remained. For protection? Or assistance?

One thing was for sure, she’d never know. She wasn’t at a high enough level. Yet. She couldn’t help but wonder if that would change once she was married. No doubt it probably would. Even the lowest of Ezekiel’s numerous wives had a more elevated status than everyone else. One of the few benefits, as far as Sophia could tell.

Chapter 2

“Well?” Head throbbing, Jack glared at Thomas. “You need to explain. Immediately. And whatever reason you have for what you did damn well better be a good one.”

Thomas smiled coldly. “It’s actually quite simple. You wanted to join COE. Now you can.”

At first Jack didn’t understand. “What?”

“Children of Eternity. COE. I apologize for knocking you out, but it was necessary.”

“You hit me in the head so I could join a cult?” The instant he finished speaking, he realized his mistake.

“We are not a cult.” Thomas eyed Jack with the same type of expression one might use to pick up a dead slug. “Perhaps I was too hasty bringing you inside.”

Inside? Damn. Now he had to backpedal. By a strange quirk of fate, he’d somehow landed exactly where he’d wanted to be. Inside the compound. Remembering Thomas’s earlier questions, he thought he understood. Of course they’d want someone with little or no ties to the outside world. Jack fit that criteria perfectly.

“Sorry.” Still frowning, Jack made a show of rubbing his temples. “My head hurts, so it’s hard to think clearly. I’m not sure what exactly you prefer to be called. Why don’t you fill me in?”

The answer came instantly. “We call ourselves The Chosen. All Children of Eternity are so blessed.”

Of course. Jack nodded, as if he completely understood. Unfortunately the movement made his head pound even worse, making him wince. “Explain again why you had to knock me unconscious?”

“So you would awaken in your new life. Consider yourself privileged. Outsiders are rarely allowed here. You have truly been chosen.”

“Sounds good,” he allowed, even though privately he thought it was one of the craziest things he’d ever heard. “But what if I decide not to stay?”

At the question, the other man’s expression hardened. “No one does that. You see, it’s simply not possible. No one ever leaves. No one wants to.”

The phrase reminded Jack of the old Eagles’ song “Hotel California.” The sinister implication behind Thomas’s words didn’t escape him. What the hell did they do if someone decided he wanted out? Kill them?

“I get it.” Jack forced a smile. “Why would anyone want to leave paradise, right?”

“Exactly.” Sounding pleased, Thomas walked to the window and peered out.

“But why did you have to slam me in the back of the head?” Jack persisted. “I would have gone willingly if you’d only asked.”

“Because,” Thomas answered without turning around. “There is a certain ceremony to everything. This was how I wanted you to enter your new life.”

Crazy. Were all the cult members this nuts? Jack knew he had to go along, at least until he found out what he needed to know. Chiefly, whether or not the Bartletts’ son had been abducted by COE five years ago.