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CHAPTER FOURTEEN

FALIN

I’m going to have to examine why I’m not freaking the hell out later. Jasper just ended a life in front of me. Blood and brain matter coated the walls. Yet, I’m barely rattled. What the fuck is wrong with me? It may not be the first time I’ve witnessed a death, but it was definitely the most gruesome.

It doesn’t matter, not now. We have other things to worry about, like getting downstairs unseen.

We find the massive kitchen where a dozen caterers move food onto trays.

“Maybe we can ask one of the staff for help?” I suggest. “It’s not like they have anything to do with Fairfax. They’re just caterers.”

Jasper vibrates with energy beside me. “Too risky.”

As the words leave his lips, one of the servers turns her head in our direction. I notice her before Jasper, and without thinking, I sling my arms around his neck, pull his face to mine, and whisper. “We’ve been spotted.”

He catches on quickly… almost like he was hoping for this. I shake that thought away, threading my fingers into his hair and silently counting the seconds until the server looks away. His breath hitches against my skin. It would be so easy to kiss him now, but I can’t . This is all for show. If only my heart hammering against my ribs would get the message.

“I think she moved on,” he breathes. “But I’m willing to stay here like this all night.”

I back away slowly to double check. “Yeah, she’s gone.”

“I think I see a door over there, off the kitchen,” he says, nodding his chin in the direction of his gaze.

A tap on my shoulder has me jumping out of my skin. “Are you lost?”

Shit.

I spin and find myself eye to eye with Fairfax.

Before I can think of an excuse, Jasper reaches out his hand and places it on Fairfax’s shoulder. “Was just having a little private time with the wife. You know how it is, buddy.” Every word from his lips is as smooth as melted chocolate.

“Is that right?” Fairfax says, his mouth pulling into a grin.

I press myself against Jasper’s side, playing the part of lovesick wife while also using him as a shield from Fairfax’s predatory stare.

“She can’t keep her hands off of me after a few drinks. Can’t blame her though, I am a handsome devil.” It’s a miracle I keep my eyes from rolling.

“Well, lucky for you two, it’s almost midnight. I’m glad I found you. I know with these masks it’s all supposed to be anonymous, but Whitaker, I’m shocked you finally showed. Three years in a row you passed up my gala. I’d almost begun to think it was personal.”

A weight sinks in my gut. Brennan’s never been here. This guy has no idea that he’s dead. I figured as much when we eavesdropped on his conversation with Wayne, but now there’s no doubt.

Jasper lets out a nervous laugh. “You know how it is. Ivan keeps me a busy man.”

“Well, I’m sure he’ll be happy to know you’ll finally be initiated properly.” Fairfax’s dark stare bores into mine and a chill creeps down my spine. “And you must be Ivan’s lovely daughter?” He holds his hand out for me and I reluctantly shake, drawing away as quickly as I can. “You can come with me now, Whitaker. I’m sure Mrs. Fairfax can keep your wife company while us men get to it.”

I flash Jasper a look, hoping he’ll understand my silent plea. “Actually, I think I’ll bring the Mrs. in on this one. She’s eager to be initiated too.”

Fairfax’s eyes widen and he purses his lips. “I’m sure you understand what that means?”

“Of course I do,” I say, channeling my inner confidence. “I’m Ivan Orlov’s daughter.”

Fairfax is quiet for a moment, the outline of his jaw clenches from where it’s visible in the mask. When he speaks all pretense of friendliness leaves his voice. “Very well. We’re getting off schedule with all this chatter.” He turns to walk toward the kitchen but stops to look us over again. “Swear you’ll vouch for me with Orlov, no matter what happens.”

Jasper’s fist tightens on my dress as he nods. We’ve just sealed our fate. There’s no turning back now.

* * *

We follow Fairfax down a set of stairs, my steps feeling like I’m walking through sludge. Whatever we’re about to walk into isn’t good. My gut is telling me to leave. I brush my palm across my switchblade and that gives me some relief.

The only light in the darkened space comes from a handful of dimly lit wall sconces and tall pillar candles set up throughout. Once we reach the bottom, the space in front of us opens up to an enormous room. A dais of sorts is set up between two columns at the front of the room and nearly a dozen chairs face it, all filled by masked men. My skin crawls.

What the hell is this initiation? Every type of terrible thought swims in my head. I was never part of a sorority in college but I’ve heard of all the crazy customs some of them have for initiating newbies. Would this be something similar? I wish I could call Blake and ask her if she heard Brennan talk about anything like this. The answer would probably be no, but it would be worth a shot.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Jasper whispers beside me as he moves his body closer to mine.

“You mean I won’t let anything happen to you ,” I say with false bravado.

Our entrance into the room is noticed immediately and all heads turn in our direction. A sea of dark eyes in the dim light focus on us. Fairfax motions to the remaining empty chairs. “Take a seat in the front.”

We don’t argue, there’s no reason to. But it feels like the temperature drops the moment I sit down.

Fairfax steps up onto the dais at the front of the room, his voice booming. “Welcome to our most anticipated night of the year.” The guests clap and holler. “This has been an honored tradition for a long time now and it’s the perfect way to ring in the new year. I’d like to give a special thanks to Mr. Brennan Whitaker.” He gestures to Jasper. “If it weren’t for your good work, this night would’ve never been possible.”

The men continue to clap while Jasper raises his palm in thanks.

“I know we’re all anxious to get started, but first, our new guests need to be properly initiated.”

A few men murmur around us, the noise reminds me of buzzing mosquitoes. “But she’s a woman!” I turn and see that the outburst came from a man old enough to be my great-grandpa.

“Yes, astute observation,” Fairfax chides. “She is Ivan Orlov’s daughter.”

More murmurs sound out, and I realize my palm is inching toward my weapon strapped to my thigh. If even one person here knows about Brennan’s death, then we are so fucked.

“But who will?—”

Fairfax slams his fist against the podium, his exposed skin bright red. “Enough questions. I will not have you, of all people, Helsman, questioning my authority.” The room turns silent and Fairfax goes on. “Friends, join me up here on the dais.” As we make our way over, two younger looking men in full ski masks carry a leather chaise lounge out, placing it on the center of the raised platform.

“What is this?” Jasper’s voice stays level, although I catch the slight tension beneath his mask.

“Typically, we provide… arrangements for this part of the ceremony.” Fairfax’s creepy gaze slides over me with curiosity. “But it seems you’ve brought your own tribute tonight. Our brotherhood is built on three pillars of power, as you know—wealth, blood, and…” He pauses, letting the words hang heavy in the air.

My eyes flash to Jasper’s and somehow he’s managed to stay calm. I know he’s reeling on the inside though, just as much as I am.

Money, blood, and what?

Three offerings. Three sacrifices.

My skin crawls imagining what this means for us.

Another man in a ski mask comes from out of nowhere, handing a bag to Fairfax. I stand stock still, my mind trying to process what’s happening. Every part of me wants to shirk away from the hard eyes of all these men, staring at me like I’m a piece of meat. But I can’t blow our cover.

Fairfax pulls out an ornate dagger. Its blade gleams in the dim light. He holds it above the flickering flame, the metal seeming to absorb his darkness. A low murmur begins in his throat, and within seconds the assembled men join in a haunting chorus. The words slither through the air, some archaic tongue that makes my body tense.

“What the hell?” I grit through closed lips for only Jasper to hear. His fingers find mine in the darkness, gripping tight as Fairfax turns to face us. When he speaks, his voice fills the room with commanding authority.

“This covenant has bound the powerful for generations. World leaders, philanthropists, celebrities. To be chosen is to join the architects of history itself. Brennan Whitaker and Mischa Orlova, do you swear upon your fortunes and futures to honor the brotherhood, to guard its secrets until death claims you, to place your brother’s interests above all other loyalties, and above all else, maintain absolute power through lifelong secrecy? Our prosperity depends on the shadows we cast. Should our true faces ever see daylight, should you ever break this chain of silence that binds us, you will lose everything. Your wealth, your influence, your very identity will be erased. Do you accept this covenant?”

Fear spreads throughout my body, stiffening my limbs. Jasper straightens out beside me, and without hesitation, he nods. “Yes, I do.”

Fairfax’s eyes are on me now. I know I need to open my mouth but my lips refuse to move. You can do this. My gaze meets Jasper’s, his eyes holding a promise that it’ll be okay. For Bailey. “I do.”

“The time has come for tribute,” Fairfax says, his voice commanding. He holds out a black velvet pouch. I’m mesmerized by what’s happening in front of me, the mystery of what’s inside the bag seems to suck the air from my lungs. “Place your first offering in the vessel.”

Money. My heart stutters. I hadn’t thought to bring cash to whatever this was supposed to be.

Jasper’s hand finds mine in the darkness and he presses cool metal into my palm. Relief floods through me as I watch him step forward, adding his coin to the pouch. It clinks softly as it drops onto the countless others. I follow, trying to keep my hand steady as I make my own offering to whatever darkness I’m stepping into.

Fairfax inclines his head and hands the pouch to the masked man beside him. “And now, we come to the blood binding.” He raises the dagger, its metal catching the firelight again as he presents it to Jasper, hilt first. “Each initiate must mark the other. Whitaker, you will receive Orlova’s offering, and she yours. Your shared blood will forge your bonds to our brotherhood.”

Jasper’s hands shake as they wrap around the dagger’s hilt. This is nothing like how he held the gun against Wayne. That was justice. Ridding the world of evil. But this? I see the struggle in his eyes, and I don’t want to make it harder for him. Before he hesitates, I hold out my palm, steeling myself for the bite of pain to come. His eyes meet mine, shadowed with fear and regret as he cradles my palm in his. “I’m with you,” I whisper.

He draws a shaky breath, then drags the blade across my palm. A sharp hiss escapes through my teeth as crimson wells up in the blade’s wake.

Fairfax takes the dagger, performing some ritual with the pouch as I hold back tears. Once he’s done with his creepy shit, he hands me the hilt. I feel sick. I’d imagined too many scenarios where I’d get to draw Jasper’s blood, paying him back for his maddening arrogance. But not like this. Nothing about this twisted ceremony is fun. He extends his palm and I make the cut quick and clinical, not wasting time in dragging out his pain.

My hands shake so badly, I almost drop the dagger as I pass it back to Fairfax’s waiting hands.

Two offerings down, one to go. Money, blood… What fresh hell could they want from us next?

My eyes find Jasper’s and I see my own dread mirrored in his expression.

“Now for the fun part,” Fairfax says with cruel delight.