Page 134 of Seizing Control: Part Two

“Holy hell.” Taking hold of Lazarus’ shoulders, I force him to raise his head and meet my eyes. “Hades is dead?”

The answer is immediate and unemotionally definitive. “He is.”

On impulse, I reach for my manbun. It’s gone, the buzzcut that made sense in Sydney now feeling like another misstep, considering the compulsion to adjust it lives on. Linking my fingers at the back of my head, I exhale. The deadness in Lazarus’ eyes is a worry, and it makes me realise that he’s been hiding his grief since he arrived at the hospital after Cherub gave birth.

Three decades of friendship override my recent enmity as I enquire, “When?”

“Two weeks ago.” When his gaze flits to the bandage on my head, guilt floods me. The anguish he’s working hard to deny hardens into a stern rebuke, “Had nothin’ to do with you.”

My mind is whirling, pieces falling into place as I consider the timing.

Hades died in hospice the same night that Lazarus broke into the compound. It was the first time in weeks that I was left alone by my worried club brothers. The evening before Noah St. James’ decomposed body was discovered on our turf.

“Bullshit.” Grief and anger intermingle as I challenge his assertion, “Seems kinda convenient that?—”

“Doesn’t matter what you find believe... Dad’s dead and the shit’s about to hit the fan if it’s not handled properly.” His dismissive tone is brittle. I don’t call him on it, instead I follow him as he looks through the window Meeyal is manning. Once Lazarus has double checked the scene that we’ve already confirmed, he turns around to address Layla. “Have Veronica send them a legal something or other—” He waves his hand in a circle, then starts pacing as he spits out the rest of his orders, “—I want the guy we have in the local command to move them on. Publicly. Make it a humiliation... get one of the social teams to livestream it. Find out what they know... maybe we can spin the narrative.”

“What about the Premier?” The younger woman snatches Cub’s laptop out of his hands, and starts typing on it. Looking up from the screen, she arches an eyebrow as she tells Lazarus, “We could really ramp up the pressure through her. She owes you for cleaning up her son’s mess.”

“Good idea.” I have no clue what I’m witnessing right now, but I know it’s a side of the man I grew up with that I’ve never seen before. Lazarus is calm, controlled, and confident as he contemplates his next moves. “Get her on the phone.”

Next to me, Cub’s head is on a swivel, bouncing between our resurrected club brother and the woman he’s been slowly romancing for the past few months. The interplay makes it obvious that my gut twinge was right. There’s more to Layla than her appearance suggests. Her proximity to Lazarus was suspect from the start, however, I was more interested in my personal pity party than any of the women my club brothers were fucking.

Layla De La Rue didn’t make it onto my radar until my two worlds collided a week ago.

The investigative piece she’s supposedly writing for the local news about sustainable viticulture is obviously her cover. It’s pretty damn clear the coldly aloof woman is part of the Adjudicator’s team, much like Lazarus. Young as she is, Layla De La Rue is obviously one of Gabriel’s people, and that makes her off-limits to my technology officer. Her speed with the keyboard makes it equally obvious that her skills on the computer are on-par with Cub’s.

Conflicts of interest abound.

But, I have bigger fish to fry right now...

“Shouldn’t you involve Gabriel first?” I enquire. “Suss out his opinion...”

Lazarus is ten steps down the path toward a solution without pausing to inform his boss. There is a chain of command in place, one that I need to follow as well. I lead the Shamrocks, but I report to the Australasian Trinity. Exactly as he would when he was venom, Lazarus is overstepping his position. While he’s handling things different on the surface, more professionally with less volatility, the suited man who’s dishing out orders like he’s the king hasn’t truly changed one bit. “You can let him know what’s going on while I connect with Roman Segarra. The Trinity needs to be informed as well.”

From his vantage point, half in the room, half out, my brother chuckles.

It’s an unpleasant sound, filled with mocking that’s aimed at me.

I narrow my eyes, scowling at Hunter.

He slowly shakes his head. “You don’t have a clue, do you?”

“About what?”

“Laz is?—”

“Hunt,” the man himself interjects. After jutting his chin in a silent request for Cub and Meeyal to leave, he shepherds Hunter into the living room and closes the door to block the other two men from our conversation. Pinning my brother with a look that it isn’t within his scope to give to a Shamrock, Lazarus continues. “What he means is shit’s changed... Gabriel got caught playing games. I’ve stepped up a little earlier than expected.”

His true meaning is murky.

A riddle that would put our fathers to shame.

“Meaning?” Red and blue lights blink through the gaps around the curtains. I nudge Toker out of the way so I can see what’s happening. As I observe the media being asked to move on by the cops, a bunch of iPhone wielding twenty-somethings chasing them, the oxygen is stripped out of my lungs. In a breathless wheeze, I state, “You’re the Adjudicator.”

It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.” Lazarus confirms it anyway. He adjusts his cufflinks, then accepts the phone that Layla holds out. Device level with his ear, his side of the conversation is curt. “Premier Yates. We appreciate your assistance... yes, I agree. Delicate matters like this should be treated as circumspectly as possible...” His multicoloured gaze locks with mine, then Toker’s as he listens to the leader of Western Australia. With a sharp nod, he says, “I’d prefer to keep this business relationship cordial... my consigliere will be in contact if we have any further requests.”

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