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“But I—”
“No,” Irina snaps. “If I want you to explain anything, I’ll fucking ask you to. Now go wait for me. And strip naked so I don’t have towaste my time.”
Adam grins widely and waggles his eyebrows. “Can I go—”
“No,” Irina snaps again. “You know you’re not allowed to touch anyone but your draft pick, which can’t be Zoe. So who’s it going to be?”
Adam makes a show of walking around the room, asking different women to stand up, bend over, show him their tits… you get the classy picture.
“I pick Mani,” he says. “With nails like that, she’ll surely be able to defend herself.”
“Excellent,” Irina says. “Until the ceremony at the Devil’s Night Brawl she’s the only woman you’re allowed to touch.”
“Sure, Irina.” The smug expression on Adam’s face disappears the second Irina turns her head in his direction.
She frowns and taps her cheek with the long nail on her index finger. “There are no loopholes, Adam,” she says, reading his expression perfectly. “When I say she’s the only one you can touch, it isn’t an invitation to make others touch you. Mani’s it. End of.”
“I understand,” Adam says, looking like he just got called out.
“Good,” Irina says. “I’ll remove Mani from the list so the others can’t pick her.”
The way they’re talking about the Brawl is both confusing and… scary. I’m pretty sure I’ve figured out what the women’s roles are, yet I need someone to spell it out for me.
“What are the women going to do?” I ask.
Irina sends Adam on his way, promising she’ll personally bring Mani to him later, before answering me. “The Devil’s Night Brawl is a tradition Rusty started many years ago. Back then, I was his pick, and I won him the title of President.”
I gasp but manage to keep my words to myself.
“The men have already proven themselves, otherwise they wouldn’t get the needed votes to have a chance to move from prospects to members. But knowing how to control and use a woman is a big part of it.”
She talks like the words coming out of her mouth make all the sense in the world and aren’t disgusting, archaic, and just fucking wrong.
“If the woman picked to fight for the Prospect loses, he can’t become a member. If he’s a good Prospect, he might get another chance the following year. But no one gets more than two attempts.”
“What happens to the women?” I ask, though I don’t think I have to.
The coldness I’d come to know and hate is back in Irina’s eyes and voice as she says, “They fight to the death, Zoe. If they lose, that’s it. It’s a big honor to get picked.”
Grayson
For more than three fucking weeks we’ve stalked the Reapers living in the shitty beat up house in Watsonville. Doc Lawson, whose name I now know, moved his mom, Maude, out of her house for a bit so we could use her property. I also think he was concerned about the violence that might erupt if we get noticed by the Reapers, which is a smart fucking move.
I was ready to go in guns blazing when we first found out there were some Reapers living there, but my new VP, Slasher, managed to calm me down enough to remind me that killing them won’t lead us to Zoe, and fuck him. He was right.
The four Reapers living in the house are young, which makes them a good target, because young assholes like that slip up, and we were waiting for the moment they did.
I just didn’t think it would be three fucking weeks.
“Look who I found.” Tex announces, carrying a box as he steps in through the back door of Maude’s house with a familiar face on his heels.
“Fuck. Tido.” My brows shoot to my fucking hairline at the sight of the Santa Cruz Police Department’s surveillance guy. “Where the hell have you been?”
Chuckling, Tido steps into the old kitchen looking a little uncomfortable as he shoves his hands in his pockets and shrugs his shoulders.
“I kind of got myself into a bit of trouble.”
“What kind of trouble? Who do we have to kill?” I snap, my smile dropping from my face.
