Page 64 of Vicious King

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Elias

There wasa grim silence for another few seconds. Then the council charged forward. Two of them went behind me and grabbed my arms. Another forced a dark hood over my face.

“Hey! What the fuck?” I tried to shout but my voice was mostly muffled by the hood.

They dragged me forward. I kicked and struggled, but there were at least five of them holding me now. One guy was no match for that amount of strength.

There was a sudden flush of coldness at my core. This could only mean one thing. I failed. I would never make it to the third level and discover everything I needed to know to take them all down. Worse, the way they were treating me now suggested they knew what I was up to. They knew I was onto them.

The men stopped pulling me. Someone yanked the hood off my head. I rubbed my eyes, still trying to process what the fuck just happened. I was in a different chamber now; the room with the granite table and benches. It was dark, but one of the council members was in the process of lighting candles everywhere, sending brilliant arcs of gold over the black walls.

When he was done and the chamber was alive with flickering light, he took off his mask. So did the others. They were all smiling, including my father.

“Congratulations, Elias,” he said. He leaned down and picked something up, then held it out to me. A set of black robes. “I’m so proud of you.”

A flush of adrenaline tingled through my body. I was in.

“Sorry about that little trick,” another man said. “Just a stupid game we like to play with the newbies.”

“The look on your face was perfect,” my father added with a snort of laughter. “Don’t worry, we’d never kill someone in such a messy manner.”

My heart was still racing, but I forced my shoulders to relax as I pasted on a smile. “You got me good.”

I looked around at every council member. There were a lot of men I recognized. Chuck Van der Veer, an old friend of my father who’d become a billionaire with the rise of dot-com stocks twenty-odd years ago. Garrett Davenport, the Roden Dean. A couple of others who worked as CEOs at King-owned companies. A few high-ranking politicians, too.

“Congratulations, Elias,” they said in unison, echoing my father’s earlier words.

“Thanks for accepting me,” I said as I put on my new robes, smoothing the thick fabric down over my shirt and pants.

“You know, you’re actually one of the youngest members we’ve ever had in the third level,” Van der Veer said as he watched.

I nodded. “That’s cool. So I guess I can attend all the third-level-only events now, huh?”

“Not yet.” My father handed me a slip of paper. “Before you’re in all the way, you need to take this oath before us.”

“Right.” I took the paper and read aloud. “I, Elias James King, pledge my allegiance to Crown and Dagger. I swear to protect and keep all secrets, take action against any traitors, and uphold all society values. I bind myself under no less a penalty than that of having my throat slit and my lips sewn shut before sinking into the deep waters of the Catacombs in a coffin, should I ever knowingly or willingly violate this solemn oath and obligation as a third-degree member.”

What a fucking joke.

After the oath, all the men shook my hand before taking their places around the large table. I took a seat too.

“In regard to what you were saying before: yes, you are now able to attend all third-level events. Before that, however, we have a lot to discuss. You are allowed to know all Crown and Dagger secrets, and you will learn the basics of them now,” said Davenport. “Firstly, though—introductions. You already know me, but out of sheer formality, I am Garrett Benjamin Davenport, council treasurer.”

They went around in a circle with the introductions. Only my father was left out.

Finally, he looked me in the eye and nodded. “You know who I am, obviously,” he said with a smirk.

Yeah, I do now, I thought to myself. I finally know the real you.

He continued briskly. “You’ll be able to speak with all the other third-level members at a dinner we’ll hold for you in a couple of weeks to celebrate your induction.”

“Cool.”

“Right. Before we begin, do you have any pressing questions?”

“Yeah.” I waved the piece of paper in the air and looked at Davenport. “All this death stuff… you don’t really execute people who betray the third level, right? I mean, I used to be friends with your son, Garrett. Henry. I know he left, and he’s alive.”

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