The Chosen by Sharon Sala Read Free Book Online Page B

water. Anxious now to get back to his own room, to his supper and a bed, he unloaded the canned meat and crackers onto the table, left an orange, as well, then bolted from the room. He could hear Andy muttering and laughing as he tore into the food.
    With one last disciple to visit and feed, Jay went into James’s room, almost as an afterthought.
    At first, he thought James was just asleep, and then realized he was watching his every move.
    â€œJames, I’ve come with food.”
    â€œLet me out.”
    Jay frowned.
    â€œYou know that’s not possible. You had your chance but chose to abandon me. I’ve explained how important it is for all of my men to stay with me, so you’re just going to have to endure.”
    â€œI’m not one of your men,” James cried.
    Jay dumped the last of the meat, crackers and water near the man, then rolled an orange toward him, as well. He sprinkled some quicklime in the toilet, then said a brief prayer.
    â€œFuck you,” James said.
    Jay frowned.
    â€œYou should not speak so disrespectfully in the presence of the Lord.”
    James stared in disbelief.
    â€œWhat? You think you’re God?”
    â€œNo, no, of course not,” Jay said. “I’m speaking in the general sense.”
    â€œGo to hell,” James muttered.
    â€œDon’t say that!” Jay cried. “Don’t you ever say that.”
    Then he stomped out, slamming the door behind him as he went. He stopped outside the door, then turned and leaned forward, momentarily resting his forehead against the surface.
    Outside, a sudden clap of thunder rattled the roof, followed by a bright shaft of lightning. A torrent of sound began to fill the old building as wind picked up outside. It blew into broken windows with a high, whistling sound, racing through an unseen corridor, only to be sucked out through other openings like an invisible vacuum. The whistle turned into a moan and then a roar.
    Jay glanced nervously over his shoulder, half expecting to see demons emerging from the shadows as he hurried toward his own room. The sound of his footsteps was muffled by the storm overhead. Something raced across Jay’s path, darting into the shadows to his right. He resisted the urge to run. He had nothing to fear—not even the Devil himself—not as long as he was living a true and righteous life.
    Â 
    Saturday night had come none too soon for Ben. It was his first weekend off in more than a month, and while he had no special plans, the fact that he could go to sleep tonight knowing an alarm wasn’t going to go off in his ear the next morning gave him a good feeling.
    He’d given some serious thought to calling one of his female acquaintances—maybe share a meal and see where it went from there—but when he went through the names in his little black book, he drew a blank. The women were fine. He was the one who was getting picky.
    Every time he thought of making love to a woman, a certain pushy female journalist kept coming to mind. He kept remembering the softness of her mouth, the scent of her perfume and the perfect fit of their bodies, wondering if she held her breath when she came or if she screamed.
    He cursed himself for letting his mind go where his body had no business being. But it had rattled him enough that he opted to spend the weekend on his own, which was why he was in this little nondescript restaurant, eating dinner all alone.
    His steak was cooked just right, and his fries were perfect—thick and just a little bit greasy. He was chewing a bite of steak and buttering a warm dinner roll when January DeLena walked into the place.
    She was wearing a short black dress with a neckline that plunged close to her navel, and a hemline that barely covered her thighs. Her hair was loose and brushing her shoulders, and her long, shapely legs looked even longer with the three-inch heels she was wearing. He knew he was gawking, but he couldn’t