Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72863 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72863 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“Have you found the killer yet?” Soren asks quietly, catching my attention. Killer. My pulse ticks up just slightly. I tilt my head, feigning disinterest, letting my gaze drift across the room, taking in the glint of chandeliers, the chatter, the movement of bodies.
“No,” Boston replies, tone clipped and deliberate.
“You will. And when you do…” Soren trails off.
“Hunt.” Boston’s single word slices through the hum of the room, and a small, unreadable smile touches his lips.
I take a slow pull of whiskey, letting the burn hide the pulse that won’t settle.
Hunt.
Why are they asking Boston about a killer? Something about the way they’re talking to him sets off alarm bells inside me. He’s not just a man being questioned. He’s someone who understands the weight of that word.
I sip my whiskey again, slower this time, pretending I’m focused on the burn, but my gaze keeps sliding back to him.
And now I want to know why they brought it up here, in front of me, and what it really means.
Interesting…
FOUR
BOSTON
All I can smell is her—vanilla, faint and clean, a sharp contrast to the alcohol and perfume swirling around the room. She’s standing too close for comfort, but acknowledging that would give her power, and I don’t do that.
I keep my attention on Soren, nodding, replying, my words measured. Meanwhile, I take her in, in quiet, practiced increments. She’s short, but those heels that adorn her feet make her appear taller. How she walks in them I will never know, but she does so confidently, as if she could almost run a marathon and not complain. Interesting. The dress she’s wearing clings to her in all the right ways, and I hate that I take a second look. No other woman has made me glance twice in a very long time.
Bailey brought her; of course, that much is obvious. He’s always trying to bring an extra woman. He’s a pig like that.
I notice my pulse and have to consciously keep it steady. Control is everything. I never sleep with anyone at these events, and I never intend to. I don’t show up for that, but a lot of the members do. They see it as a perk; being able to live out some wild, fucked-up fantasy. I don’t care for that, nor do I have the time for it.
I turn a fraction. My gaze flicks toward her again, taking in the barely noticeable movement of her shoulders, the tilt of her chin, the way she subtly shifts her weight from foot to foot. She’s ready for something, ready to act if the night turns ugly. That kind of awareness draws my attention.
I inhale slowly … vanilla.
“I showed my face, I’m going now,” Soren says.
Soren is our Lord, and everyone in the Forsaken answers to him. Membership in the society is for life, and it has many rules. One of them includes marriage, though it’s always up to the discretion of the Lord. It’s usually suggested that if you’re over the age of thirty and have not yet found a wife, the Forsaken will help with that.
While I’m over thirty and not married, I don’t plan to take a wife anytime soon. My life consists of work and the Forsaken. Every now and then, I’ll take pleasure with a woman, but I’ve never met one who has held my interest long enough to even contemplate seeing them twice.
“I’ll be going soon,” I tell him, which draws his gaze to me. This is one of my responsibilities as a member of the Forsaken Society. It would usually fall to his second in command, Reon, but like Soren, he’s married, and if he came, he would bring his wife, who would probably stab someone. Arlo, another high-ranking member, is off with his wife, and hates coming to these events as much as Soren and Reon do, which leaves me to oversee things. And in doing so, I’ve learned that some members don’t have their heads screwed on straight.
For example, Bailey. He could never take a leadership role. He might be able to in his work life, but his outside life is chaotic.
The Forsaken Society has been around for generations. Some members are second or third generation, their fathers and grandfathers having been members, and that’s how they got involved. Others join for money and connections. But we don’t let just anyone join. Actually, we haven’t had a new member for quite some time.
Though, things are about to change. Soren said we need to grow, and I tend to agree. We’ve lost a few members to stupidity, and as a result, our numbers have dwindled.
And there is power in numbers.
I’ve been a member for many years. Soren somehow found out about my extracurricular activities—that when the justice system was failing, sometimes a suspect would wind up dead—and offered me a better opportunity, which didn’t take me long to accept knowing my father was once a member.