Page 25 of Blood and Thorns (Twisted Ever After #1)

Sebastian

Eight, real name John Carp, was a nondescript man with a face and build that would blend in with the crowd. It made him generic, boring, and the ideal drug dealer.

He was anything but generic right now, though.

His eyes bulged, tears and snot smearing his reddened face as he tried to jostle the tarantulas that were crawling freely over his chest. His screams were muffled by the rag shoved through broken teeth, and bruises were already appearing along with fresh welts.

Clearly, he wasn’t a fan of spiders as Caden added another–this time to his face–considering Eight just pissed himself, much to the amusement of the twins, who were standing to the side.

Micah laughed out loud, the sound a harsh bark while his brother, Malik, simply smirked.

The twins have been with me for a few years, and like all my guards were ex special forces that were paid for their skills and discretion.

“Now, keep still, or I’ll break your fucking knee,” Caden ordered, forcing Eight to freeze as the spider explored his face before eventually crawling down his body.

It was always humorous to watch people fear the spiders rather than Caden or myself. Yes, the tarantula could deliver a nasty bite of venom, but that bite wasn’t what was going to kill them. I was.

Langdon appeared bored, the click, snap, click of his lighter the only sound other than the muffled screams in the cold, concrete room.

“You’re a hard man to track down,” I said, riffling through the black rucksack that had been on Eight’s person. I pulled out several packets of cocaine, all marked as my product. But it wasn’t, the colour was off, as well as the quality.

Walking over, Lang yanked out Eight’s gag, then affectionately patted him on the cheek with a wink.

“Where did you get this?” I asked, holding up a packet.

Langdon whistled at Eight’s silence, and when I nodded, he gripped Eight by his hair, wrenching his head back before holding the lighter beneath his jaw.

“I got it from the usual drop off!” he screamed, his skin splitting beneath the concentrated flame. Langdon pulled back but didn’t release his grip. “By the docks. Hook, man, I swear.”

I cocked my head. Hook, which wasn’t his real name, owned the docks, as well as the surrounding sea.

Nothing was smuggled across the water without him knowing about it, and that was how I procured my raw materials without alarming the authorities.

Not to mention providing me unrestricted access to the rest of the continent.

“Hook’s distributing now?” I moved closer, my sheer size shadowing him.

“One of his men, Smithy. I swear, that’s where I got it all.”

Tipping the rest of the contents of his bag out, I glanced at what remained. “What the fuck is this?” I kneeled, picking up another packet .

Eight squealed like a child, and the scent of burnt flesh infected the air. “That’s the new stuff on the market. It’s what we’re supposed to be pushing. The other… the Cursed Rose is rumoured to be corked.”

I clenched my jaw. “Says who?”

“I don’t know, the other dealers. Come on, man, please don’t—” His words ended with a scream, the skin of his jaw peeling back beneath the heat.

I studied the packet, not recognising the symbol of a stained-glass window. “What’s it called?”

The cries died down, but I didn’t bother looking up.

“They… they call it Enchanted Dust.”

“Hmm.” Nodding to Langdon, I let him have his fun.

I had a more apathetic reaction to the resulting chaos and death, which apparently wasn’t normal according to both the psychologist and therapist Alexander took me to at sixteen. That lasted a whole three sessions before I threatened to kill them.

Langdon, being several years older, had gone only once, somehow sweet talking his way between the psychologist’s legs even without the ability to speak.

He liked to seduce people before watching them burn beneath his flames, unlike me, who was more blunt. Caden, despite sharing blood, was by far the most rational. Unless he was bored, then he really liked to smash things with that hammer of his.

I guess Eight would’ve preferred Caden to be his interrogator, because after breaking a few bones, Caden would’ve probably put the fucker out of his misery.

Langdon, on the other hand, was still playing with his food.

Another scream, the sound causing my limited patience to wear thin.

I’d slept only a few hours, but even with painting, the fight, and her, it still wasn’t enough to calm this fucking current inside me. It was like I’d been struck by lightning, and my body didn’t know how to deal with this excess energy.

I needed an outlet, something more . Something violent, preferably with my toy.

I’d been busy with tracking this prick the last week, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t aware of her every moment.

Lounging around my home reading her book and befriending my staff.

She didn’t think I knew that every night she’d come looking for me, sneaking into the west wing to watch me paint from the shadows.

My beautiful little rabbit, so curious even in her fear.

It took a lot for me to cool my constant rage, but she had this calming presence that spoke to my demons. It made me want to crush her, just to see what would happen. Whether she would break or fucking embrace it.

I turned to the twins. “Deal with this once he’s done.”

“Sir,” they said in unison, dipping their heads.

Leaving Langdon to his game, I made my way to my office.

The club was created as a place to launder money, as well as a beacon of my influence across the city.

I ran it along with a group of trusted staff.

Sitting at my desk I glanced down at the paperwork, the words meddling together, even moving until they blurred into something I had no hope of reading. So I didn’t bother to try.

Pulling out my phone, I unlocked it, frowning at the pictures until I found the one of the phone, and then the contact with the antique clock.

I trusted Caden with my life, which was the only reason I left him alone with Arabella. I knew blood meant nothing in my world, but he’d proven his loyalty to me over and over, taking a bullet more than once .

Caden was a year younger than me, but we grew up together between my home in Paris, and his in London. It was him and my uncle who came and found Lang and I almost dead. They were the ones who’d brought us back to England, and protected us until we’d recovered.

“Bas?” Caden answered on the first ring.

“Meet me at the container.”

I could hear his frown. “The container? What’ve you heard?”

In five years I haven’t had a single problem with the quality. Designed specifically to be as clean as possible, giving off the best possible high and assuring a returning customer.

“I think someone’s fucking with our powder. We’ve just heard a rumour that our stuff’s corked and not being pushed.” I made the most money keeping the entire pyramid under my thumb. But I also sold to third parties, which widened my pool of customers.

Langdon came in then, an almost peaceful gleam in his eyes that was a juxtaposition to the scent of scorched flesh. He raised a brow but said nothing as I put Caden on speaker.

“You think someone got past T? You know how anal she is about shit down there.”

“Meet us in thirty,” I ordered. “We should check it out anyway.”

“What do you want me to do about Arabella? Elena’s still here.”

“Send Elena home and tell Arabella to wait for me.”

Langdon smirked, shaking his head while Caden gave a dark chuckle.

“Fine. See you fuckheads soon.”

The King’s Forest was under a conservation covenant agreement and preservation order.

The status protected the entire belt from those wishing to disturb the area.

One of those old British laws that had way too many hoops to jump through to change and essentially meant construction companies couldn’t get permission to dig up the earth, which was a perfect place to hide an entire drug manufacturing unit.

My feet crunched the dried leaves, critters scattering as I walked the path towards the large, ancient tree. Staring up at its great size, I brushed my hand over the bark before finding the fingerprint scanner concealed within one of the trunk’s hollows.

With a click, the forest floor opened to reveal a set of metal stairs.

There was only the single access, and every person who passed the doors had to present their palm to the screen.

Along with the constant camera feed throughout the forest, as well as inside the container, it allowed me to monitor who was inside at all times.

“The log’s clean,” Caden said, clicking through lists on the panel. “No one unauthorised has come in, Bas.”

Nodding, I reached towards the metal lockers, pulling out the required PPE before pulling it on. The plastic strained, but held enough as I passed the locked door into the main section of the lab.

A few heads turned, eyes widening when I stood to observe them.

Caden went off, his knowledge of the production much better than mine while Langdon headed towards the office, intending to check the notes.

“Sir, you’re unexpected,” T said when she spotted me, passing Lang as he made his way to her office.

Her nervous energy would’ve indicated deceit on anyone else, but she was good at her job because she was notoriously rigid in her routine. Us showing up without warning was breaking her carefully constructed day.

“Please be careful. You’ll contaminate everything,” she called over to Caden, who’d lifted a large white bag on one of the long desks and was currently intimidating one of the packers.

“Do you think we’ve been infiltrated?” I asked Caden, not taking my eyes off the small woman in front of me. There was no point speaking French, or even signing to keep my conversation private. Not when I wanted to see her reaction.