Cad's frown gradually gives way to a look of glee. "Hot damn." He starts shaking his head as if he's just discovered the password to the Olympians' treasure room. "I can't believe it—-" He momentarily stops speaking when Professor Hondros calls for everyone's attention, but as soon as the professor's done relaying the rest of his instructions for our seatwork, Cad immediately turns my way and slowly uncurls his fingers.
Hot damn indeed.
I grab his hand, intending to furiously rub my hand over the mark, but the moment my fingers come into contact with the shimmering outline on his palm, a jolt of energy zaps through me, and Cad and I jerk apart as we quickly let go of each other's hands.
It's real then, I realize in surprise.
The insignia on Cad's palm is an intricate rose-colored border surrounding a four-headed creature, and even someone like me doesn’t have any trouble recognizing it. The shiny, shimmery thing that nearly electrocuted my senses is the mark of the Ancient Order of Sub Rosa, a fabled secret society that most people scorn to be as false and fanciful as the supposedly underwater kingdom of Atlantis.
There's plenty of fascinating stuff about the order actually, but...
"What does that have to do with me?"
"That—-" Cad shakes his marked hand for emphasis. "—-is how we all found out about you."
I only stare at him, even more convinced that he's under the influence of something.
Cad releases an exasperated sound. "This mark is a direct connection between us and our god."
I start in my seat. God? What god? Surely he can't be talking about my god...or can he?
"We'll feel it tingle when we're about to receive a message, and the god's message earlier was pretty straightforward. Just your regular caveman beating his chest to let us know you're his woman, ergo the woman we're all supposed to worship and—-" Cad breaks off mid-speech with a frown. "Hey, are you okay?"
Nope.
"You look like you're about to throw up," Cad says nervously.
Because that's exactly what I'm feeling.
I can't believe my god also happens to be Cad's god...as well as everyone else's in their damn order.
I've always had this idea that my god is the solitary type, but I obviously can't be more wrong about it, and now that the shock is starting to wear off—-
Aha!
Our last conversation replays in my mind, and the things that used to confuse me suddenly start making sense. When the god mentioned about having other people around...he was obviously talking about the members of his order. Members who are immediately recognizable because of...wait a minute.
Cad jerks in his seat when my gaze suddenly flies back in his direction.
"You mentioned earlier that my - I mean, the god contacted you through your mark."
Cad's gaze turns wary. "Yeah."
"What about me then? You say you were told I'm..."
"Our god's woman," Cad supplies helpfully.
"Uh..." I quickly cover my cheeks in case they start heating up. "Yes, that. How am I going to get messages when I don't have my own mark—-"
Cad releases a sound that appears to be a marriage between stunned laughter and incredulous choking. "You're joking, aren't you?"
I shake my head.
"But...your mark is right there!" Cad looks pointedly at my neck as he speaks, and I open my mouth, intending to tell him he's crazy, except...
I suddenly remember the first time the god started kissing my neck, and how the skin under his lips seemed to burst into flames.
But more than that, I now also distinctly remember...the fact that it's been ages since I last looked at my reflection.
"Do you have a mirror?" I ask him impulsively.
"Do I look like I'd carry a mirror with me?"
"You strike me as the vain, narcissistic type, so...do you have one or not?"
Cad mutters something under his breath, but before I can ask him to grow a pair and tell it to me straight, I see him unzipping his backpack, and he actually has a mirror?
"Not a word," Cad warns.
Is he kidding? He keeps a mirror in his backpack! Of course I have to say more than a word, and—-
"Aaaah!"
A little shriek escapes me as Cad suddenly turns the mirror my way, and I find myself abruptly confronted with two things:
My face, which remains annoyingly nice as ever—-
(yuck!)
And secondly, there's the side of my neck, which just as Cad says...bears the same damn mark he has on his palm.
Chapter Twenty
So...secret societies. It's another one of those things we humans didn't see coming until it was too late.
Once the dust after the war settled, two kinds of secret societies eventually came into being. The gross one was basically a front for a sex cult, with orgies taking place in honor of lustful deities. Man themselves have founded these so-called societies, and the police, with the backing of virgin goddesses like Diana and Athena, have started cracking down on those that have started incorporating human trafficking in their worship.