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They are not from the same family, yet somehow cut from the same cloth, moving in unison like they share blood, muscles, bones, and DNA. Their arms sway at the same time, their feet gliding in a matching beat on the moonlit asphalt, and fuck me if it doesn’t feel like time slows down, allowing everyone to take in the creatures making the air tense into compliance.
Only they are no creatures at all… just people.
People forming one very important faction—The Sanctum.
Our southern city is big enough that we don’t all know each other, yet wherever they make an appearance, the world stands still. Rulers over these lands. Only it’s not fear holding you still, it’spower. Fear is simply a byproduct. It stems from the rumors swerving about them—violence, sex, secrets, murder—and no matter which you’ve heard, they add on to one thing and one thing only…danger.
I guess this is what happens when you deal with The Serpent… the devil that sneaks out of its kingdom and offers you the forbidden fruit. No one knows how many of these rumors are true, yet there has never been any denial, and their presence alone is enough to make you believe all of them and more.
There’s no denying life is much more intriguing like this, when all fear you, bow to you, and you are predictable in a completely unpredictable way. It is a red carpet weaved with fear and blood, and no one dares cross the velvet rope. Not when they think they know the terror waiting on the other side. Their brand of organized crime is different from any other I’ve known.
I remember them as teenagers; it’s hard not to. They were a force of fucking nature, and no matter what, you somehow craved to throw yourself in the middle of that storm, chase the tornado and let it consume you. As adults… their attacks are silent, like a rising tsunami, silently gathering its strength, and when it roars… it’s too late to save yourself.
Their affairs aren’t common knowledge, they exist in an underworld they created, and normal people simply don’t have access to something like that. One thing I personally know for sure—they deal in secrets. Prey on them. Harness them and keep them safe. Until the time comes and their trade is beneficial. Information is power and power is worth more than money.
The Serpent should know. The only one of The Sanctum who didn’t come from money. The one who can trap even your shivers with just one look. His black eyes pierce you, opening gates into your mind you don’t know exist until he’s there, until all your deepest cravings want to burst through and suddenly… you can’t recognize yourself.
Heispower. He doesn’t needold money. The world would bow at his feet with his pockets empty.
Very few men have that talent. The one sitting next to me right now would kill for that particular skill. It’s not a thought I would have had about him six months ago… but things change, so many things changed.
As they walk on the sidewalk, past the old-time cinema, slow and determined, past Mrs Dawn’s pretty flower shop, looking like they are gliding over the concrete, they pass one of Queenscove’s fanciest restaurants, then slowly shift directions to the dark alley next to it. There are rumors of a speakeasy nestled in plain sight somewhere in the middle of the city, around here. Only rumors, because the ones who know of it, which building, which door, or how to gain access, do not speak of it. And considering The Sanctum lurks there, I don’t think they would risk saying a word.
I watch as the first one dips into the shadows, then the second one, their black suit covered bodies absorbed by the darkness.
After the third man disappears, The Serpent takes one more step and stops.
I swear time slows down just for him, his body turning ever so slightly, his eyes closed as he moves to look over his shoulder. And then they open… not wide, but the slits of a snake who found its next meal—and I am it.
What happens when you gaze upon the devil… and he catches you?
When his eyes land on yours and he marks you as a target?
What happens when the devil doesn’t look like a devil at all?
Dozens of people sit at the tables of this street-side bar terrace… yet his gaze landed straight on mine. Saliva pools in my mouth, but swallowing means moving and somehow moving seems to be the wrong action right now.
He’s fixed on me, unnaturally still, but the alley’s shadows seem to swallow him, as if the darkness is part of him, a coat he wears well.
Around me, whispers break out in unison, and one by one the other patrons turn toward me, each pair of eyes burning more holes in my skin as their interest peaks. The moment the members of The Sanctum stepped out of their SUV, all eyes were on them, so hiding this silent, yet powerful exchange is impossible.
Moments pass, the night breeze unhelpful as my eyes begin to burn with the need to blink. Only I have a fucking point to prove—I am not submitting to him, I will not break eye contact first.
“Darling?”
Shut the fuck up, Ryan.
“Morrigan?!” His tone commanding now.
Suddenly, The Serpent’s gaze turns even darker, a gentle scowl forming between his eyebrows, yet I’m sure no one else notices but me. I’m also sure it isn’t meant for me either, but for…
A hand waves in front of my eyes, breaking the connection.
Goddamnit, Ryan!
When his hand vacates my line of sight, The Serpent is gone… the alley empty.
Turning to Ryan, the ruckus of the terrace patrons fills the night again. Stealing a glance around myself, I can see them all, watching me from the corner of their eyes, even if their conversations are not about me.
