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It must be a trick of the light, but I swear John lets out the tiniest shudder. I step toward him until we’re chest to chest, lowering my voice so he’s the only one who can hear.
“What the fuck does he have on you, John?” I ask, examining his face closely. A flash of fear lights his irises, and for a moment, it looks like he’s going to tell me. Then he steps back, his usual confident expression back in place.
“Just promise me you’ll behave around the new recruits today. Can you do that for me, Kain?” His tone is meant to sound confident, but the nervous twitch in his jaw gives away his real feelings. He’s not asking me. He’s begging.
I keep my expression neutral so Bear doesn’t pick up on anything suspicious. “I’m still involved in the ceremony?”
“Callum insisted on it.” John shoots me a nervous glance out of the corner of his eye. “If that’s going to be a problem for you—”
“That’s fine.” I hold up a hand for him to wait while I finish off the rest of the bottle. “Let me know when you’re ready to start.”
John jerks his chin toward the office. “I’ll round up the recruits. Be ready in five.”
“Do you pledge your life, your blood, and allegiance to the Hellfyre Club?”
The sandy-haired boy crouched at my feet nods. “I do.”
He offers his hand, and I turn it palm-side up, dragging the tip of my dagger across the fleshy pad of his thumb. The boy hisses as I pinch the skin, causing droplets of blood to fall from his thumb and fill the golden compact below. As soon as the slim case is filled, I snap the lid closed and hand it off to a member for storage.
Some clubs use different methods to ensure absolute loyalty from their recruits, but this is the best way I’ve found. The cases of blood at the club’s disposal serve as a brutal reminder to anyone contemplating treachery. Unless they want their DNA to be found at some grisly crime scene, they’ll obey the club’s every wish.
It’s amazing what the threat of the chair will do to some men.
“Memento mori,” I mutter, dragging his bloodied thumb over his forehead in a circle.
“Memento mori,” he parrots, standing and giving me a bow before taking his place in line with the others.
John moves to stand, but Callum beats him to it, stalking to the center of the room with his arms spread wide.
“Welcome, boys…” He jerks his dark eyes toward me and gives a little smirk. “Welcome to the Hellfyre Club.”
He swivels to face Onyx, giving him a wink as he motions for him to join him on the floor. “Thanks to my fearless co-captain, an unprecedented event has occurred today. The years of war between our clubs have come to an end.” Onyx takes his place next to Callum, looking more than a little anxious. Callum claps him on the shoulder, his teeth bared in a predatory smile.
“John—my friend, my fellow leader—this wouldn’t have been possible without your demented ass. When you first came to me with the idea, I admit, I thought you finally lost your mind.” A couple of the recruits scoff, and Callum’s grin grows. “No, seriously! The Serpents and the Hellfyres joining forces? It’s fucking absurd!”
Raucous cheers spring from the line of young boys, and it takes everything in me not to step in. Fucking brats need to learn some respect. Callum holds up a hand, but the shit-eating grin on his face only incites more laughter from the recruits.
“Listen! Listen!” he calls, the laughter palpable in his voice. “While it might be crazy, it’s happened. And the Serpents are all the better for it.” He turns to me, his eyes narrowed in a menacing way that doesn’t match the rest of his expression. “We’ve agreed to let bygones be bygones. Right, boys?”
My fist tightens as the boys murmur their assents, seeming far less excited than a moment ago. John hasn’t fixed a fucking thing. The hate between us runs far too deep, and he’s a moron if he thinks this will be the end of the club’s troubles.
John clears his throat, looking slightly green. “Welcome to the Hellfyre Club.”
Callum’s black eyes shine as he grabs John in a side hug. “You heard him, men! It’s time to celebrate!”
Boisterous cheers break out across the room, and I watch hordes of men file out of John’s office with excited grins on their faces. If everyone can agree on one thing, it’s a fucking party.
One of Callum’s men calls him to the main room, and he flashes those disgusting teeth before prowling outside. I can feel John’s gaze, but I refuse to meet it.
Traitor. Worthless, spineless traitor. He deserves to die. Die, die, die.
“Are you joining the celebration tonight?”
I pick a spot on the wall and focus on breathing.
In. Out. In. Out.
“Kain?”
