Accidental Surrogate for Alpha

#Chapter 321 – The Cult

Cora

About three hours later I am…over books. As a genre, in their entirety.

My hands are dusty, and I’m sick of the smell of musty old pages, and they’re just so boring –

Page after

page of history regarding shifter worship practices – who genuflected to this god, and how, and where, and for how long, and the minute changes in the practices…

I groan, pushing my twentieth book away from me and looking dourly at the stack of about fifty still left in my pile.

“Come on, Cora,” Roger says, sitting comfortably across from me, smirking at me over the edge of a neat little green text. “You’re supposed to be the smart one in the family. I thought you’d have more staying power than this.”

“Ella’s smart,” I reply, immediately defensive. He nods, conceding the point. “But you gave me all the dusty books,” I sigh, frowning and pulling the next one off the top of the pile and towards me. I cough when it raises a puff of dust into the air on its way.

“I gave you all the ones with more pictures,” Roger murmurs, closing his book and reaching for his next as well. “Wanted to make it easy on you.”

My mouth drops open in a little outrage at his implication there but then I see the upturned corner of his lip. “Liar,” I say, smiling down at my book as I open the cover. The title page reads A Complete History of the Cults of the Dark God, 1862. “You just didn’t want to get your hands and clothes dusty touching all these old ones.” Passively, I gesture to my clothes – which are indeed covered in a light layer of grey library dust.

“You’ve got a little on your ass,” Roger murmurs indifferently. “Come here, I’ll help you brush it off.”

I smirk, shaking my head, but ignore him and continue to page through the book. This one, to Roger’s point, is indeed heavily illustrated, with many pictures of occult ceremonies and practices that I find fascinating, if not a little disturbing. I’m letting my eyes drift over the description of a summoning ceremony when I turn the page and –

I stop, frozen.

in front

not the same – but of course it’s not, then

breathe, and his attention is instantly on me. “I think…I think I found

is at my side in a moment, faster than I thought he could be, leaning over–the book next to me. I point at the image, which takes up three quarters of a page and shows a monk with a partially shaved head striding

reverence.

nuyer

you

I’m not sure I remembered in the moment. I’m sorry about that – but the charms, and the rod and and something about the hair

light on my lower back, not brushing against me by accident

all at

nod, and then we both lean forward,

their lord, the God of Darkness, who they understand as best worshiped by sowing disharmony as well as blood sacrifice, From the eighteenth to the nineteenth centuries. the Cult developed significant magical prowess and their abilities to manipulate the elements should not be underestimated. While the most devoted members of the Cult exclusively wear the trademark black robes, many others move through the world in disguise. Devotees tend to flock to high–powered jobs

and disappointed to

his hand flattening against my back. I turn to him, not knowing what to do. “Are you sure, Cora?” he asks me, turning the page

to those memories. If I had seen that image, even without the hypnosis, it would have…brought me

–

see

a quick hug and then releasing me. “Look through the rest of the book if anything else rings a bell. I’m going to go call Sinclair, get his team working on finding out anything

cult? And what on earth can they want with Ella’s little baby? Why did they work so hard for

works in opposition

and my heart drops to my stomach, my breathing ratcheting