Page 72 of Heirs of Havoc

“That we’re wavy as hell?” A soft chuckle leaves him. “It’s perfect for this. Believe me.”

We pass the main doors to the church before Feliks leads me down a narrow hall. “Wait, there’s no church service?”

“Not that kind of service, anyway.” He walks me down the long stone hall with shiny golden lamps and old biblical pictures. It’s not until we get to a thick metal door at the far end of the hall that suspicion prickles my skin. After punching in a code, a click comes from the other side. The door opens up to a narrow stone staircase, darkness ahead. “After you, Bunny. Wanna hop on down?”

I hesitate, stepping back. But when Feliks takes my hand, a wave of warm relief hits me.

“I got you.” With Feliks behind me, I take my first step down the stairs. “Go ahead.”

It smells familiar, like burnt incense. It feels familiar. Cold. Unwelcoming. And I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve been down here before.

I’ve spent way too much time in that cellar.

Feliks’ hand on the small of my back guides me down the stone steps. It makes me feel less alone. But when I get to the bottom, I remember why it all feels so familiar.

That evening comes back to me and the memory of the twins dropping me right where I’m standing hits me.

I freeze in place, but my brain only gives me one demand.

Run.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

My sneakers turn to leave but Feliks’ rigid chest stops me.

“Let me go.” My fists bounce off his hard pecs. “Now, Feliks, I’m not messing around.” I meet his gaze with a rigid stare, fighting the shake in my voice. “I mean it.”

My fist lands in Feliks’ grasp. “Chill out, Bunny.”

“No! Let me go!” I can’t believe they’d do this to me.

After everything we said at Bible burger? After Feliks’ apologies?

“Mia?” A woman’s voice comes from behind me. Turning around, Pastor Lucie smiles in beige slacks and a white blouse that shows off a leather holster. “You’re safe here.” Her long, dark hair covers one side of her face, adding to the mystery of who she really is. “As long as you don’t tell anyone what Pastor does after service, that is. Consider it our secret, like your identity.” Her soft voice makes it hard to tell if she’s threatening me, but from what I know, the calm mobsters are the most ruthless. "Do you want to come in?" She gestures behind her.

It’s the same dungeon the twins dropped me in. My brows furrow, looking around. It doesn't look as scary as it did that day. The stone walls, chains, whips, and devices tell me it's the same room, but it looks different. Much more glamorous than the torture cell in my mind. Candles and lanterns sit around the room, giving this place a romantic feel. As romantic as the Catacombs, that is. Music thuds throughout the space. A DJ pushed to the side.

Not only does it feel more intimate, but the people gathered around make it feel so much smaller than it did before.

Is this a party? A club?

My eyes land on Vlad and Lev on a black velvet chaise at the far end of the room, both their eyes on me. Dom sits in a matching armchair that looks as royal as he thinks he is. Turning to Lucie, she fits in with this place more than she does the church. “What is this?"

Lucie holds out a hand before someone in leather puts a tall bubbling glass in it. Champagne. She holds it out to me. “Welcome to hell. I run the church with Milo, but consider this a side venture. A place to let our demons run loose."

“Are you guys in charge of Murphy House, too?”

“Well, that was the twins’ doing. Milo just put his name on it. We have connections with Dean McQueen." If I know anything about business, "connections" mean they have something on him. "You’re welcome here. But on one condition. This all stays between us. I know who you are, Mia Merlo. So if anything gets out, that gets out too, you understand?” She speaks like a strong businesswoman. Direct. Upfront. But something tells me she wouldn’t be afraid to pull the trigger of the silver gun in that holster.

Milo stands against the stone wall near the twins, a cigarette hanging from his lip as he watches her like the twins watch me. Like how Dom watches me, except with less fury. More love.

“Uh, yeah, understood,” I respond.

“Make yourself at home." She takes my hand, shaking it like we're signing a deal. "Consider yourself family.” Stepping out of the way, she walks over to Milo. With a pull of his hand, Lucie leads him to the leather bench, bending her over.

That’s when I hear it.

The moans, smacking and whips blend with the bass of deep, tantric house. And while I had a mind-blowing O moments ago with Feliks, standing in this room makes me feel alive. The energy is sinister but electric. Captivating.

---