I slept fitfully. I woke often, unaccustomed to having a man’s arms around me. I stared into the darkness, listened to his breathing, plucked bits of straw out of my mouth.
I think it was because I wanted to savor each instant, knowing that it had to end. As the dark softened and the light grayed, I dozed. Once or twice, I sensed something was watching us, and I heard a scuff at the door. I froze.
Alex held me close. “If it’s the vampires,” he whispered, “don’t move.”
The footsteps seemed to go away, and I was able to relax against him, lulled into dreams by warmth. It was a beautiful spell. For a moment, I felt as if I were truly in control of my world, of my own destiny.
The spell broke after sunrise.
I woke to a rusty sound, the sound of the door being reeled back.
I jolted upright, clutching the blanket to my chest. I shaded my eyes from the bright sunlight with my hand. I could make out silhouettes at the door.
“There they are,” said a voice, cold and bitter.
I blinked. It was Elijah. And the Elders.
I felt Alex behind me rising to fight, as I scrambled for my dress.
“Don’t move,” the Bishop said, aiming a rifle at Alex.
I closed my eyes.
My little dream was over.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The Elders let us dress, then marched us back through the fields to my house. I glared murderously at Elijah’s back the whole way. How dare he . . . how dare he destroy the last little bit of a dream I had for myself?
I knew then that I hated him.
Hated him more than Ruth. More than the vampires, even.
I would never forgive him. Though “never” was shaping up to be a very short time for me.
My father marched down the steps, shock on his face. My mother was fast behind him, wiping her hands on a dishrag. It was clear to me that they were just as surprised as Alex and I.
“What’s happened?” my father demanded.
Elijah was the first to answer. “I came by to see if Katie was home. She wasn’t. You said that she was likely looking after the new puppies, so I thought to go look for her there.”
“Ja, I remember. You woke us up.” My father’s tone was harsh. I couldn’t tell if it was for me or directed at Elijah.
I traded glances with Alex. The “vampires” we’d heard at dawn . . . it must have been Elijah. Spying.
“I thought she was up to no good. I peered in between the slats of the wall . . . saw her”—he cast a contemptuous glare at me, then pointed to Alex—“lying with him.”
My father’s angry gaze landed on me. I lifted my chin in defiance.
“Is this true?”
I stubbornly refused to answer. But my father took in my disheveled appearance, my unbound hair, and drew his own conclusions.
He turned back to Elijah. “Why did you not come to me? I am her father. This is none of the concern of the Elders.”
The Bishop raised his voice. “It is our concern when she lies with an Outsider.” He grabbed Alex’s wrist, yanked up his sleeve to show his tattoo. “The Outsider we ordered to be left beyond the field.”
I opened my mouth to issue a scathing protest, but Alex interrupted me.
“It’s true. She came to me to bring me water in the field that day. And I forced her to take me to shelter.”
I shook my head. “No.”
“I told her that I’d kill her family if she didn’t obey. That I’d kill all of you if she didn’t bring me food. I even threatened to kill the pregnant dog with her puppies.” His jaw jutted out, and his voice was harsh. “She’s a good little obedient girl, that one. Does what she’s told.”
“That’s not true.” Tears sprang to my eyes. I knew what he was trying to do.
He stepped forward, raising his voice. “Shut up, you dumb bitch. And, yeah, I raped her. I forced her when she came to check on the dogs this morning.”
My mother choked back a sob and pressed the dishtowel to her face.
“She fought hard, but . . . how could any of you resist a piece of ass like that?” He gestured contemptuously at me, then Elijah. “How about you?”
Elijah slugged him. Alex didn’t fight back, didn’t fall, just turned his cheek and stared at him.
The Bishop stared at me. “Is this true?”
I shook. I knew that Alex was trying to save me, that he was as good as dead. But he was trying to buy me a little time. Tears blurred my vision, and my mother came to me and wrapped her arms around me.
“How could you ask such a thing?” she snarled at the Bishop.
“It’s not true,” I said. I lifted my chin. “He’s lying. I took him in willingly. He was injured, and none of you would help.”
Alex sneered at me. “See? I’ve got her wrapped around my little finger.”
My father shoved him in the chest. “Enough.”
I swallowed hard. I had never seen him get violent with anyone before.
“I went to him willingly,” I cried. “I went to him willingly then, as I did last night.”
My mother sobbed behind her fingers. “Katie, please . . .”
Alex closed his eyes.
Rage stained my hot cheeks. “And I went to him the night before when he helped the Hexenmeister and I keep the contagion from spreading, when we kept the Hersbergers from becoming monsters . . . from becoming vampires. What the Englishwoman said is right. There are vampires among us.”
I stabbed my finger at the Elders, aware that my voice was shrill and hysterical. “I have seen them. And the Hexenmeister, with his Himmelsbriefen, is the only one who can save us. But you have silenced him, so he cannot help us.”
My voice echoed in my ears, full of tears and rage. It felt useless, against the black wall of the Elders. But at least I had spoken the truth.
The Bishop looked from Alex to me, nodded to the Elder holding the rifle. “Take them both Outside.”
“No.” My father stood between him and me. This was the first note of defiance I’d ever seen in him. “My daughter is a victim.”
“Your daughter has let an Outsider inside. He is likely the one to blame for all the other—”
“No!” I shouted. “He didn’t do it. It was the vampires. Ask the Hexenmeister.”
My mother flinched. The Bishop cast a murderous gaze on me. “She goes with him. She is now under the Bann.”
“She may be too trusting,” my father said. “She’s been abused, and we will take care of her.”
“She is still under the Bann.”
“You cannot do that,” my father protested. “You can throw the Outsider beyond the gate. He is not one of us. But you cannot place an unbaptized person under the Bann.”
The Bishop’s pale eyes narrowed.
“You cannot,” my father said, his voice shaking in anger. I saw in that moment how truly strong he was. “It’s against the Ordnung. She has not formally accepted the church. If you place her under the Bann, you must place every child in this settlement with a pair of blue jeans in his closet or a radio in her dresser under the Bann. The Ordnung cannot be suspended in times of crisis. The Ordnung is law, and we will continue to follow it.”
A heavy silence hung over the yard. I’d never seen anyone challenge the Elders, argue with them on a point of law. My father was correct. He’d called the Bishop out on his selective interpretation of the Ordnung.
But what remained to be seen was whether or not the Bishop would acquiesce. Whether he would try to save face or fight.
After a long moment, the Bishop grudgingly nodded in my direction. “Get her under control. We will decide about her later.”