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When brothers turn against one another, it’s more of a tragedy than most. Family means everything to a Constantine, and we have watched many others deal with their own in a brutal way. The Vieris as one example. Cold, clinical, and detached. They remove the problem to remain supreme and yet we gave that up for family because it cost us too dearly.
When mom died, it was over a power struggle. She was executed as a warning that we took notice of. My father was grief stricken and had no wish to continue and both Apollo and I never wanted to run a mafia family, anyway.
We hire ourselves out as a revenge of sorts. To kill, to torture, to maim, and to force answers from our unwilling victims. The rest of the time we live a simple life, running the family businesses of olive oil and wine. The contracts help deal with the pain, and eliminate the kind of people who believe life is worthless. Their lives are and my mother’s now counts for something. We are her avenging angels and I doubt that will ever change.
Now we must rescue one more innocent victim in our tainted world. I pray to the gods that Phoebe is here because I intend on leaving with two women tonight or die trying.
As I edge around the dumpster, I see the door is ajar, a small sliver of light shining through and I remove my gun, holding it up in front of me as I edge through the door.
I am meeting the woman Shade arranged to replace the one in the transit. As soon as I enter, she steps from behind the door and places her finger to her lips and beckons me to a door set a few meters away.
We head inside and she whispers, “There is a staircase at the end of the hallway. It has access to the top floor. It’s what the servants use to move through the building undetected.”
She stares at me with wide eyes and says in a low whisper, “When you get to the top, turn right and follow the hallway to the end. There is another flight of stairs leading up to the turret. The door locks on the inside and the guards will take up their position at the foot of the staircase when Hosea arrives. Your only way out is through that door and past them.”
She stares at me with pity, and I can tell what she’s thinking. I don’t stand a fucking chance, and yet from the hope burning in her eyes, she is relying on my success. The staff on this fuck island are virtual prisoners. Hosea chooses them for their vulnerability. The homeless, young women off the bus heading for a better life. Victims he pays for at auctions and his enemies’ loved ones. They all end up here and there will be no loyalty to him.
I wonder about this woman’s story. She is a pretty girl and yet her eyes are laden with shadows of depravity. Her life here is hard because of her genetics and I note the sprayed body hiding under a wisp of fabric. Shade will have called in a favor, and I wonder what she owes him.
“You’ll be okay.” I say gruffly, and she stares at me with hope flaring in her eyes. “I wish I could say the same to you.” She whispers, her tears revealing she doesn’t believe I stand a fucking chance in hell.
I nod and turn, breaking our communication because the last thing I need in my heart right now is anything other than rage, vengeance and cold-blooded murder.
CHAPTER 56
MELISSA
Hosea Madeira is a vile man. I already knew that, but nothing prepared me for the pure evil that is surrounding him. He is a small man with dark hair, slightly longer than most, and eyes that are hard and cold. His skin is puckered, as if he had bad acne that he never recovered from, and a small scar runs down the side of his neck, almost as if someone attempted to end his life.
I wish they had succeeded.
He is openly staring at me as he addresses Mikhail.
“You are to be commended for your choice of companion, Mikhail. You understand the rules on Madeira, I hope.”
“Of course.” Mikhail is emotionless and his words cut through the air like the sword of Damocles because he is handing me over to this despicable man as if he is bringing him a gift.
I break eye contact for my own sanity and my gaze turns to the woman by Hosea’s side. I try so hard not to react when I see the incredibly beautiful woman watching the scene, her emotionless eyes disguised by a black feathered mask. Her long white-blonde hair almost touches her waist and the feathered robe she is wearing is slightly parted, revealing another sprayed body underneath, this time in black paint. She is tall, slim and elegant and I have no doubt in my mind that this woman is Phoebe.
I try to make eye contact, to reassure her I guess, but she stands emotionless and removed from the situation as if she has done this a million times before.
Hosea turns to her and smiles, a sinister creepy movement of his mouth that tells me everything I need to know about the man.
“My decision is made. Let the ceremony begin.”
He slides his gaze over my body and raises his hand. As he drops it, a loud clap of thunder can be heard, and everyone’s attention is focused solely on him.
He takes his companion’s hand and says loudly, “It’s time for the sacrifice.”
My heart quickens because what the fucking hell is going on and I am grateful for Mikhail’s hand clasping mine to steady me as we fall into line behind Hosea and Phoebe.
A strange procession begins as the guests step behind us and we head through the double doors into the courtyard outside.
We pass through a tunnel of flaming torches toward a hill where a gold carpet stretches up to a huge crucifix on the top of the island. I am shaking as we follow them and wish I could ask what’s happening, but there are no words, no sounds as the procession walks to the unknown.
When we reach the top of the hill, Hosea removes Phoebe’s cloak and I gasp at her beautiful body shimmering in the moonlight as she steps toward the crucifix.
This is bad, so bad and I don’t know what to do as she steps against it with her back to the wood and Hosea kisses each one of her wrists as he binds her to it.
