Page 100 of Degradation (The Brethren Lords #3)
Devin
W e’re barely out of the van when Titus is manhandled away from us. Malik and Mace try to step in, but I’m quick to stop them. There’s little point in wasting our energy considering this was the deal.
Conrad mutters his thanks before he clicks his fingers to have the man dragged away.
I don’t give two fucks what becomes of him. I don’t really care about anything beyond ensuring I get my end of the bargain.
Paitlyn sticks to my side and Antonio gestures for us to follow him in through a side entrance.
I guess we’re not good enough to be walking in the main doors, wouldn’t want to create any unnecessary drama, now would we?
We’re both wearing robes, we both have masks on to hide our faces but apparently Antonio doesn’t want to take any risks.
I can hear the crowd, I can feel the excitement as they chatter away, waiting for the fun to begin.
For most of them, this is a once in a lifetime’s moment, at least, it’s meant to be.
Three Chapter Lords in less than a decade is definitely testing the limits of how much the Brethren are willing to endure.
The sea of masked faces is a blur as we’re ushered into a quiet corridor and to a winding stone staircase.
“Where the fuck are we going?” I ask, as my skin prickles, and my head starts to whisper that this is a neat little trick to play, right when they’ve gotten what they need.
Antonio pauses, looking for the first time like he’s a little flustered. “He wants a word.”
“Who?” I ask, only Paitlyn stills, gasping a little.
“He, he’s here?” She whispers, clearly understanding something I don’t. She’s holding her mask up in front of her face instead of with her mouth, which allows her to speak.
“He is.” Antonio confirms, beckoning us to walk on.
As we get to the very top, I can see we’re in the Gallery. Far below us, that sea of masks looks almost like a mirage, a thing of fantasy. I can see the golden altar at the very top of the nave, I can see all of the Senate, in their rich, red robes.
But my attention switches to the solitary figure standing, staring down, a few metres from where we are.
The stained-glass light filters through, creating almost a halo around his head. He doesn’t even turn as he hears us, he just continues to stare as if he finds all of this is amusing.
Instinctively, I move my hand to grasp my pistol. I don’t know who this fucker is but I’m not taking any chances.
“Relax, Devin,” he says, his voice carrying the unmistakable lilt of an American accent. “I’m not here to harm you.”
I bristle at his casual familiarity, but there’s something in his tone that stays my hand. I pull my mask off, wanting to see him fully, wanting the use of my peripheries too, if he thinks to try anything.
He continues, almost to himself, “look at them down there, doing exactly as they’re told. So obedient, like perfect little ants in their colony, all following orders without question.”
He pauses, then adds, “You, on the other hand, aren’t so obedient, are you? It’s remarkable, really, that you’re still alive, considering all the chaos you’ve stirred.”
My anger flares, and I’m about to tell this stranger where he can shove his observations when it hits me who he is.
He chooses that exact moment to turn, to grace us with his face and I swear his eyes sparkle with amusement.
“Grand Master.” I almost spit the name.
His nostrils flare, he looks at me, then looks at Paitlyn, and as he does, his features soften. She’s dropped her mask too. She’s got it in her hand, like it’s a deadweight and she lets, it drop to the floor with a clang as if she’s awestruck.
He has jet black hair, he must be mid-forties, more my brother Magnus’s age, and he seems to have all the same arrogance, the same entitlement.
Beside me, Paitlyn seems to be aware of his attention and she curls her hands into fists. “You…” She begins, only he cuts across her.
“You’ve changed, grown, although that’s not surprising. The last time we met you were a child.”
“I,” she stammers, frowning. “How have we met? When?”
He chuckles, taking a small, measured step forward. “Your father brought you to me, slipped you away from your mother’s ever watchful gaze.”
She gulps, paling more, trembling too. “Who am I to you?”
The question catches me off guard, I narrow my eyes, looking between them, trying to figure out what the fuck this is.
“Your father was my uncle,” the Grand Master replies, “Our bloodline is the original founding bloodline of this order. It’s why your mother tried to use you, why your uncle did too.”
Paitlyn shakes her head, frowning even more. “I, I don’t believe it,” she whispers.
“You should do. And you should be grateful for it, it’s what will save you now, save your husband too.” He replies, looking across at me.
“I don’t need your favour.” I snarl back. I won’t be tied to him now. I’ll be damned if I owe him anything.
He laughs loud enough that it echoes around us, though it quickly gets lost in the noise of the congregation below.
“So prideful, just like all the Blakes. It was a reason I chose your brother as Chapter Lord, why I supported his interests.”
“So what do you want?” I reply.
He pauses, looking back at Paitlyn. “You asked for things, things only I can give. I’m willing to provide, but I want something in exchange.”
“And what is that?” I don’t know if it’s me or her who asks it.
The Grand Master clicks his neck, like he’s got a crick in it, and then he fixes his gaze back on me.
“Your time here is over, Devin. Your time in England is done. You married a ghost, a woman who was declared dead and buried. That cannot be undone, cannot be rectified…”
“Meaning what, exactly?” I snarl, losing my temper. Did he not just say that her bloodline is what spares me? Did he not just all but promise her a pardon? What the fuck is he going on about now?
He smiles. “Impatient too, I see.” He mutters before glancing once more at the people far below us. “I will give you what you ask, but not in the manner you ask for it. Both of you will relocate, you will leave this miserable country, and you will move to America.”
“What?” Paitlyn gasps.
The Grand Master takes a step forward, reaching for her hand and though every cell in my body screams at me to stop it, she must sense it, must sense the movement or something because she’s reaching out, letting his fingers glide over hers.
“You will be safe there. You will have a new identity, a new life.”
“And Devin?” She says quietly. “What will he do? He’s a Reaper…”
“He will work for me.” The Grand Master states. “A man such as him, a man with those talents…”
“Will you not ask me, instead of simply telling my wife?” I snarl.
He smirks. “Seeing as it’s your wife who gets to make the decision, she is the only one to ask.”
“What decision?” She breathes.
He draws himself up, glancing at me for what feels like the umpteenth time. “You may be married to him, but it does not have to be forever. It can be undone. You do not have to stay with him if you would rather be free.”
I don’t think, I don’t even register I’m doing it, but I take a step forward and the bastard pulls his gun, a Desert Eagle no less, pointing it right at my face.
“Say the word, Paitlyn, say what you want, and you shall have it.”
Her lip trembles, she looks like she’s suddenly torn and though hours ago I was convinced this woman was all mine, now we’re standing on this precipice, I’m not so sure.
“He is a monster.” Paitlyn says so fiercely. “But he is mine. My monster.”
Relief, joy, I don’t know what I feel as those words pass her pretty lips. I know she chose me before, I know she’s chosen me a few times now, but all of those have been more out of necessity, more because she had no other good options.
Today, she proved this marriage is more than that. That she is as committed as I am.
The Grand Master almost looks relieved at her words. He inclines his head. “As you wish. Antonio will see to the details.”
He releases her hand, and she steps back, instinctively finding where I’m stood. Her hand curls around the muscle of my arm, and she clings to me in a way that doesn’t feel desperate, it feels dominant.
Below us, the sound of something, some haunting tune picks up. We can see the priests all starting to roll out, looking more like they’re floating on air than actually using their feet.
“Stay,” The Grand Master says, as he retreats back to the shadows. “Watch the ritual from above. It’s not often one gets to witness the elevation of a Chapter Lord from such a vantage point.”