Page 3 of Ceremony of Lust

2

Zev

The thumping bassreverberates through the dark club, making my head pound. This is the perfect cover for what I’ve been sent to do. I’m much older than most everyone else here tonight, but my all-black uniform shadows me from the masses as I search for my prey.

There he is. Shane Rathbun. He owes the men who’ve sent me quite a pretty sum, but here he is, living it up in the club.

When I approach his booth, everyone in his party looks up at me, and with a nod of my head, they all leave. This is the power I wield. Even outside of Ripley, I am known. The dominance I exert over my targets can be an intoxicating drug, but the older I get, the wearier I grow from completing these tasks.

If only these men would just pay…

“Zev the Wolf. What the fuck do you want,” Shane sneers.

I slide into the booth opposite him and place my hands and my gun on the table. “You owe a debt.”

“I don’t owe shit.”

I chuckle. I hate when these assholes try to play tough because it never works out in their favor.

I reach for the weapon on the table, pick it up in my hand, and with a click that’s audible over the deafening sound of the house music, I release the safety.

“You owe a debt,” I say again.

The man across from me swallows, and I can see the glisten of sweat along his brow. Now he’s nervous.

“Let’s just talk about this, okay? I can pay.”

“Of course, you can,” I say with a steady voice as my eyes peruse the traces of white powder on the table. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to play.”

Shane looks around the club and licks his lips. “Can we talk about this privately?”

I smile, baring my teeth. This is exactly the outcome I was hoping. “Of course. Lead the way.”

Sliding out of the booth, I follow him through the club to a back exit. His predictability is amusing because his actions are similar to every other desperate man I’ve been sent to handle.

With a nod to the security guard standing sentry near the door, Shane steps out in the alley. I share a similar nod with the guard and reach out a hand padded with a few bills.

No one will disturb us now.

When it’s just us in the warm spring night air, Shane whirls on me. My eyes catch the glint of something shiny on his knuckles. He’s fast, but I’m faster, catching his fist in my hand before I make contact with his gut. His breath leaves his body in choking coughs. As he crumples to the pavement, my leg swings forward, and my booted foot connects with his ribs.

The predator inside me cheers me on, encouraging me to keep going until Shane gets the message loud and clear. I want to give in and make him hurt because this is what I’ve been reduced to for more than a decade. But my hunger for vengeance and violence has started to fade.

I lean over Shane, grip his dirty blond hair in my hand and lift his head. “The Elders expect their payment tonight. If it’s not delivered, I’ll be back.” My free arm cocks back, and then my fist flies, slamming right into his nose. There’s a sharp crack, and blood begins to gush down his face. When I let go, he collapses against the ground. My hands search him, digging through pockets until my fingers close around a wad of cash.

“Thanks for the tip,” I spit out before straightening myself. With a tug of my suit, I head back toward the door and knock twice before it opens.

Tonight, drinks are on Shane.

It’s noticeably quieter by the bar, and I find an empty stool. I order a drink and just sit, trying to empty my mind of tonight’s unpleasant events and focus on what’s coming. Tomorrow is another Match Ceremony, and I wonder if it’s my time. Are my bachelor days finally over? I look down at the split knuckles. How much longer can I do this?

“Zev Landau!”

The shout of my name over the music catches my attention. I look up to find an old familiar face approaching. I’m not in the mood for a reunion with old friends, but I can make an exception for this one. “Henry!” I stand to greet him with an embrace. “I haven’t seen you in years.”

The bartender greets my friend, who orders and then settles onto the seat next to mine. “You know it’s impossible to return once you leave Ripley.”

I sip my drink and nod. Henry and I went to school together, then when we both turned eighteen, we left for college. I returned, but he did not. I both envy and pity men like him. He took a risk and now leads a life entirely his own, but it must have been incredibly difficult to give up everything in Ripley and start over. No family, no money, nothing. I wonder if I could do the same.