Messiahs, Matt Rogers [best 7 inch ereader TXT] 📗

Slater didn’t answer. What he wanted to say was ‘There are other martial arts that actually work’ but he refrained. He’d antagonised the man enough for one night.

The air bristled with tension as Maeve said, ‘You two have made friends already. Jason, stay back for a moment, please. Elias, show Will to his bunkhouse. And leave each other alone. I can’t stand this alpha male dynamic.’

Elias nodded respectfully. No matter his opinion, Maeve’s word was clearly law.

He folded his arms behind his back again and glided down the trail, expecting Slater to follow.

Slater looked at King. ‘You good?’

Maeve responded. ‘He’s good.’

There wasn’t much Slater could do.

He nodded, bid them goodnight, and followed Elias down the trail.

48

Maeve sat King down in one of the rattan chairs in the sitting room and shooed her husband away.

Dane melted into the background and disappeared through a doorway, and then it was just the two of them, alone.

She said, ‘Tea?’

King said, ‘I’m okay, thank you.’

‘You must be tired,’ she said, ‘so I’ll keep this brief. I hope you don’t mind me sending your friend away. I think he needs rest. I wanted to speak freely without hearing retorts to my every word.’

‘He’s cold until you get to know him,’ King said. ‘Then he’s the loyalest person you’ll ever meet. He’ll do great things for your … movement.’

She hesitated. ‘Why did you pause?’

‘I was thinking of the right word.’

She smiled, and he couldn’t detect any hint that it was a performance. She was damn good at her job. ‘Were you going to say “cult”?’

He shook his head.

She said, ‘It’s okay. I won’t bite. You can be honest with me.’

He said, ‘I don’t know what to call it. But that’s not the word I would have chosen.’

‘It may seem like a cult from the outside,’ Maeve admitted. ‘I wouldn’t judge you if that’s what you thought. It’s a valid concern. But you only found out about this world hours ago. I want you to know that the principles and philosophies I’ve discovered are life-changing. With time, I’m sure you will take advantage of them. And … do you mind if I speak freely?’

‘Please.’

‘You have incredible potential. More than your friend. Working in harmony with Mother Libertas and its principles … there’s no telling how far you’ll go. I can’t imagine the man you’ll be a year from now. All it requires is your commitment.’

If King hadn’t gained control over his ego long ago, he might have actually bought it.

She made you feel special, like you were the centre of the universe and everything revolved around you.

It was seductive.

Intoxicating.

For the first time he noticed an oak humidor on the table. She reached out and lifted the lid, revealing ten Cuban cigars lined neatly within. The box had already been there, so she’d known from the moment she left Thunder Basin she’d be returning with King and Slater. That took genuine confidence.

Maeve said, ‘Care to indulge?’

‘It’s late,’ King said.

‘That wasn’t a no.’

He settled back in the armchair and smirked. ‘You’re right. It wasn’t. Will you be joining me?’

She looked up into his eyes. ‘You’ve got to have a little fun in this life.’

She handed him one of the massive cigars. ‘This is from Hoyo de Monterrey. It’s a “Le Hoyo de Río Seco.” The thickest cigar to come out of Cuba in regular production. They cost a pretty penny.’

He said, ‘Is this my first week’s payment?’

‘No, my dear. That’ll come in time.’

She used an Alfred Dunhill cigar cutter — lavishly expensive in its own right, engineered to perfection — to snip the end off her own Cuban, then King’s. Then she lit her end with a metallic double torch lighter and passed it over to King. He touched the flame to the end of his own cigar and the tobacco flared orange. He drew the initial smoke into his mouth.

It was incredible.

They smoked slowly, relishing the process, and King realised it was a genius manoeuvre on Maeve’s behalf. A cigar of this size would take over an hour to finish, and the nicotine buzz would build as time passed, stripping him of his inhibitions.

She was adept at using substances to get what she wanted out of people.

As the alluring scent of expensive cigar smoke circled the sitting room, she said, ‘I expect you want to know what this place is all about.’

He said, ‘If it’s good money, I don’t care.’

‘That’s my point,’ she said. ‘You should care. Close your eyes.’

He complied.

Now that his world was dark the nicotine had a greater effect. His body tingled, and he figured this was a far lesser version of what she usually did with Bodhi.

Her voice was all-encompassing now. Closing his eyes heightened his other senses. He took another draw on the Cuban as she started to speak.

‘Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth.’

He did.

She said, ‘Slower.’

He went slower.

She said, ‘Feel your heart rate going down. Feel the oxygen coming in, the carbon dioxide going out. In with peace. Out with unease. In with stillness. Out with stress.’

Even though he knew what she was doing, it still had an effect on him.

He was tranquil before he knew it.

Then she started to speak.

‘Mother Earth is alive, Jason,’ she said. ‘Do you feel it beneath you? Always in motion. You can’t fathom its power, but it’s there, and it’s waiting for someone to harness it. You may not believe me yet, but bear with me. I want to try a visualisation exercise. I want you to imagine the power of the earth, of Mother, of Gaia, moving through you. Coming up through the floor, starting with your toes. Feel them tingle. Feel the power work its way to your calves, your thighs … your hips, your stomach … your chest, your arms … your head.’

King sure felt something.

Now he got it.

She combined powerful substances with meditation and her own rhetoric to put her followers in a heightened state. Then she fed them what they wanted to hear, building their confidence, their