Page 32 of Breaking the Code

“I dinnae ken. I will try. That is all I can promise.”

“Draven…Is this about Simon?”

I swallow. It’s been years since anyone dared say his name in my presence. I pull the phone from my ear and disconnect the call.

Pulling up the video camera on a burner phone I’ve been using, I quickly record a message for Douglas. I stack the letter, bank documents, and phone together and then head upstairs to change.

Hours later, darkness has descended and I creep toward the mansion mentioned in the mysterious package I received several days ago. The information inside led me to this massive stone building that looks straight out o’ a horror flick.

This is the home o’ Societas Exspiravit.

The Society o’ Ghosts.

I searched all the places I know o’ for information on this new Society and found nothing. Nae a single mention on any o’ the websites I’ve found for the type o’ shit the Order was involved with.

The package told me that if I wanted to avenge Simon and my parents’ murders and find my sister, this was the place to be and tonight was the night to be there. I’ve watched people arrive and none o’ them look like those who stood watching as the Order’s headquarters blew apart.

I slowly make my way closer, keeping to the shadows, and that’s when I see him—the boy from the warehouse. The same one from the clearing. The one who worked for the Order if the list o’ names I received in the package the other day is to be believed.

Rage ignites within my soul.

All these years, I’ve thought about him, worried about him. Only to realize he’s one o’ them. This boy who sparked something in me I’ve not felt since Simon and I explored our fetishes together, trying to find the piece o’ us that was missing, is a fucking human trafficker.

He’s a fucking member o’ the Order o’ Death.

I’ve vowed to rid the world o’ them. All o’ them. I made myself a promise I wouldn’t stop hunting until every last member o’ the Order has been swept from the face o’ the Earth.

Which means this boy, Tavish, his name popping into my head from the papers I left in the bank vault, must also die.

CHAPTER TEN

TAVISH

I walk along the perimeter of my new home. The one Everly, Rayth, Damon, and Killian built from the ashes of the Order of Death. As winter gave way to spring and then to summer, they, along with those of us who flipped sides from the Order to the Society, have worked to build a new system. A new order. One to take the place of the Order of Death that went kaboom several months ago. One with a mission that’s the polar opposite of what the Order followed.

Societas Exspiravit.

When first discussing the Society, I’d recommended we keep the old mansion the Order used, but I much prefer what we did with that place. Seeing it go up in flames after we razed it with explosions was cathartic. It’s been several months and relief and freedom still flood my system whenever I think of that night in the forest when Damon rescued me.

Looking up at the imposing facade of the Society, I cannot help but think about how the building fits the name of the organization it now houses. It’s big, dark, and looming like a ghost in the night.

Everly did good.

I continue walking. It is dark as pitch. The building blocks out the glow of the full moon. It’s darker here against the stone walls than my little cave in the basement, which is only lit up by the glow from the vast array of computer monitors.

Those rooms below ground are my haven. Not unlike the one I had in the old Order. Only this one I didn’t earn on my back and I didn’t have to worry about a gun being put to my head for no reason.

Everly has been good to me. She denies that, saying she is only repaying a debt. I don’t think of it that way. I provided information. That is all. Her men, who are scary as fuck, did the rest. Everly and I have agreed to disagree.

I should be inside. Not out here walking around as if I have nothing to do. Tonight is our first full-fledged initiation. I have shit to do. A ton. But I’m praying that the cat has taken the bait and will attempt to capture the mouse that’s been taunting him.

I pause, glancing down at my watch. It’s not what you would think a tech geek like me would wear. But then again, most people are fucktards. Smartwatches and technology of that nature are tracking devices at best and listening devices at worst.

They are not for this tech boy.

I’ll stick to the diving watch that’s wrapped around my wrist. Completely analog. It does a lot more than tell time, but there’s no Wi-Fi or Bluetooth connection. That means no one is using it against me.

Growing up on the fringes of a dark, dangerous society of cruel, evil men made me paranoid. I’m good with that. Paranoia keeps me vigilant, and being on your toes is never a bad thing.

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