AllFreeNovel
Share Us
First, the guards we see walking the property are all hired mercenaries. They’ve been properly vetted and confirmed by The Divine One himself.
Second, there’s more security than we imagined in place to protect the members of POP. For starters, not only are there numerous metal detectors that we have to walk through, but every license plate is written down, to make sure there are no stragglers or uninvited guests. Not only that, but guards know exactly how many POP members are going to be in attendance. If there are more than the confirmed amount, they go on a manhunt. Harvey received special permission to bring me and Dom to this event, though he didn’t give anyone our names. He merely said he knew two kids who may be interested in joining.
And third, no one—not even Harvey—knows who The Divine One is. According to him, The Divine One is like royalty, and the status is achieved by bloodline. Once The Divine One passes away or retires, his son or daughter will take the mantle.
It’s sick and archaic thinking, but exactly what I would expect from an organization such as this.
I watch with bated breath, my heart somewhere in the general vicinity of my throat, as Reece wraps his hands around his opponent’s neck—another man, who appears to be in his mid-fifties. An audible crack reverberates through the room, and then Reece sits back on his heels, appearing exhausted and forlorn.
This time, he doesn’t fight the guards as they drag him out of the pit and parade him around for everyone to see. He just hangs there, his head limp and tears cascading down his cheeks, slicing through the smeared blood.
“We need to help him,” I whisper to Dom out of the corner of my mouth.
“I know.” His hands curl into fists. “We will.”
I haven’t seen Zane yet, but I know he’s here. Like before, he and Beckett stopped a POP member on the way to the mansion and stole his car and robe. Everybody believes Zane to be some dude named Percy Higherland, while the real Percy is passed out on the side of the road. We can’t kill him—that would clue POP in that we’re stealing someone’s identity every time we attend one of these meetings—but we can make him believe he got carjacked. He’ll never know it has anything to do with POP, just like the POP members will remain unaware that Percy never made it here.
There’s so much that can go wrong with that plan, but it’s better than nothing. Zane insists on being here with us, and to be honest, I love having him nearby.
Harvey stretches his arms above his head, yawning, and then nods his head toward the robed figures now trickling back into the macabre art room. “Come. Let’s socialize before we leave. You have to get enough POP members on your side to be voted in.”
Dom goes rigid beside me. “I thought you said nobody here knows our identities?”
Because it’s well-known amongst higher POP officials that the boys of Mania have been decimating their numbers one kill at a time. The only reason The Divine One hasn’t retaliated is because he knows that taking down my guys will lead to mutually assured destruction. The Divine One doesn’t know about Raymond, but he is aware that we’re getting outside help by someone who knows more than anyone should.
I think The Divine One is terrified of Raymond, a nameless, faceless ghost.
I wonder what he’d do if he discovered that Raymond is actually just as lost as we are, running around like a chicken with his head cut off.
“POP thrives on anonymity,” Harvey explains as he grabs a flute off a passing waiter’s tray. Surprisingly, he hands it to me before grabbing a second one for himself. “All members’ identities are supposed to remain a secret. Instead, we’re referred to by numbers.” He takes a sip of his drink. “Of course, anonymity doesn’t always work. There are instances that we require help from…say…a lawyer or a judge or someone else to get us out of a jam. The Divine One puts us in contact with those people, if the need arises. He’s the only one who knows the name of every member of the Paragons of Prosperity.”
A chill skates down my spine. “Does he know who we are?”
My shoulders actually sag in relief when Harvey shakes his head. “No. He doesn’t bother to learn the identities of recruits, since they don’t always get voted into the group. And then…” He busies himself with his drink, his mask face flicking in every direction but ours.
“You guys kill the men and women who don’t make it into POP, don’t you?” Dom asks, his tone unreadable.
Harvey ignores his son and instead turns so he’s facing The Divine One himself. The leader of POP stands near the apple painting, talking animatedly with another member. I can’t hear what’s being said—there are too many other people around, chatting and laughing—but I can see their hands moving wildly as they gesture.
“How about I introduce you guys?” Harvey exclaims excitedly. “If you can get The Divine One to vouch for you, then you’ll be voted in, for sure.”
Before Dom and I can muster a word of protest, Harvey stalks through the crowd, an imperious set to his chin and his strides confident. He pauses abruptly when he’s still a few feet away and then spins on his heel, facing us.
“He appears to be busy. We can talk to him at a different time.” He clamps his hand down on Dom’s shoulder and begins to lead him away, toward where Reece is being paraded around like a prized show horse.
The sight makes my stomach twist into a tight pretzel. Vomit scorches my throat.
Harvey and a reluctant Dom immediately head in that direction, but I don’t move. Not at first.
The Divine One is speaking, his apathetic, mechanical voice slicing through the air. “This is not the time or place. If you want to discuss this further, you know you need to set up an appointment.”
“Fuck your appointments!” the second member rages. And unlike with The Divine One, I think I recognize his voice.
The Divine One is slightly shorter than the other member, but somehow, he seems to loom above the other man, larger than life itself. Untrammeled chaos and malevolent energy contained in a human-sized box.
“Don’t speak to me like that. Ever. I don’t care who you are, but here, you show me respect, boy.”
It’s the eeriest thing to hear. The Divine One’s artificial voice sounds monotone and expressionless, but I can practically sense the fury radiating from him in tangible waves. They permeate the air around us and seep into my skin through the thick cloak I’m forced to wear.
