Page 9 of Sin Like the Devil

Harrowdean Manor.

“We’re here,” I whisper to Raine.

Adjusting the round, blacked-out glasses balancing on his straight nose, he nods detachedly. His hands are trembling, despite his poor attempts to hide it by forming fists. A thin sheen of sweat coats his forehead too.

With the long journey and constant supervision, he hasn’t been able to get high today. I should’ve known this would happen. But dealing with his inevitable withdrawals is low on my list of concerns right now.

This is our new home.

The kingdom we must conquer to survive.

Along the winding, cobblestone driveway, weeping willows sway in the cool winter air. Up ahead, Harrowdean looks pretty small in comparison to the institute we’ve unwillingly left behind.

Relief momentarily extinguishes the furious fire that’s constantly burning in my veins. Hell, this will be easy. It’s tiny in comparison to Priory Lane’s sprawling compound of buildings.

“Small,” Xander comments.

“Good news for us. We can figure shit out fast and get back on top.”

Quickly counting six floors marked by dark windows and glossy ivy strangling the red-brick exterior, a smile tugs at my mouth. This will be even easier than I thought.

The whole institute appears to be based in one huge manor house with the odd smaller building dotted around. Most of the offshoots look abandoned. If everyone is housed inside, we can take control of such a small population easily.

Parking outside the wide-set entrance steps flanked by more pillars, a tall, narrow-shouldered man awaits with the usual black-clad security presence. His fine suit and prominent gold tie pin betray his identity.

I recognise him from those expensive brochures that always seem to be floating around in the institutes. This guy features in all the phony marketing materials.

The warden’s here to greet his newest arrivals.

“Hold onto me,” I mutter.

“I’m fine,” Raine murmurs back.

“Jesus, man. Just hold my fucking sleeve or something.”

“I said I’m fine.”

Biting back the urge to cave his head in, I grab his hand and move it to my arm, forcing him to grip my coat sleeve. His lips are pressed in a tight line as I guide him down from the van with Xander leading the way.

The others fall behind us without a single word uttered. No one dares move before we do. After disembarking, we’re quickly scanned with wands to search for weapons, and our bags are confiscated to be searched.

I play close attention to Raine’s violin case as it’s scanned and combed through. If anyone dares cause trouble for him, it’ll be the last thing they do. I don’t let anyone give Raine shit.

The warden plasters on a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Morning all. I’m Mr Abbott Davis, the warden here at Harrowdean.”

There’s a murmur of greetings.

“So who do we have here?”

“Xander Beck, Warden.”

Davis studies Xander with an appraising look. “Mr Beck.”

Lifting his slim wrists to be un-cuffed, Xander doesn’t flinch beneath Davis’s watchful stare. The warden’s lip curls at the power move. He knows exactly who we are and what we were to Priory Lane’s regime.

“Sir.” A blonde-haired guard approaches with a clipboard. “All inmates accounted for. These six complete our arrivals from Priory Lane.”

Davis nods, still staring down Xander’s icy glare. “Excellent. Please show our new arrivals inside.”

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