Page 55 of King of the Cage

They inclined their head. Without speaking, their answer was clear. Wear the ridiculous getup or get out.

I slipped the heavy cloak over my dress and fastened it up, then tied on the mask. It was a ludicrous item. Anyone who knew me would be able to recognize me. It had none of the anonymity of the security guards’ blank white masks. Maybe anonymity in The Enclave was only for the initiated.

Once I was dressed, one of the cloakroom attendants pointed down the long hallway. Music played ahead, the lights low, and an increasing number of candles appeared on surfaces. The hotel was Gothic inside, with lots of narrow windows and shadowy corners. The floor was black marble, the walls stone. Huge dark oil paintings in heavy gold frames depicted depressing, medieval scenes or battles and beheadings, even the odd hanging and what looked like witch trials. The music added to the unsettling aura, ghostly strings and minor cadences that sent the hair on the back of my neck standing on end. The place felt like it had fallen off a set truck, a production piece detained for Hammer horror. It was over the top, otherworldly, and completely insane, and yet, it was real. People drifted past in long black robes. I couldn’t help but notice the difference in our getups. Theirs were black, mine was red. My mask didn’t conceal my identity, theirs were full-face-concealing carnival masks, some with curved beak noses and others with rictus grins, and still others with harlequin diamonds. They glanced curiously at me as they passed me by.

What in the holy fucking creepfest was happening?

Huge drapes hung dramatically over the entrance to the ballroom at the end of the corridor. I stopped just short of opening them.

My instincts screamed at me to run. I had to get out of here and come back with the cavalry, as soon as I could. The truth was there was no time. Aldo wanted me here like this, unprepared and alone, and he had Sol. I was powerless. I could only hope my little O’Connor shadow had run back and told his master where I’d gone.

Do you really think he’ll care? Hasn’t he had enough of you by now?

I took hold of the ugly little voice in my head and shook it. Regardless of how uninterested Bran O’Connor might be in me, he was interested in The Enclave and getting revenge for his sister. That alone would bring him. It would.

I just had to hope it was true.

I took a deep breath and pulled the curtain back.

I hadto hand it to the secret society. They knew how to throw a party. The huge ballroom was full of people in cloaks. Massive works of art hung on the walls, and antiques dotted around the space on pedestals.

So far, there were no swingers in sight, only small talk and expensive entertainment. Fire-breathers in the courtyard and trapeze artists hanging from silken ties overhead. Someone had walked past with a puma on a diamond-studded leash. There was live music, and singers in different rooms. No one spoke to me. I walked through the rooms, looking for Sol, but my presence did seem to kill conversations wherever I went.

No one else wore a red robe.

Panic swelled in my gut, getting stronger and stronger as I moved about, hunting for my friend, and disturbing masks turned in my direction. I scattered silence in my wake. There was a sickening sense of anticipation in the air, like everyone was waiting for something. I had to find Sol and get out of here. I tried to search systematically, but the rooms were confusing, and everywhere I went, the stares of the anonymous strangers set my nerves on edge.

I was a rat in a maze, and they were just waiting for something to happen. I was playing into Aldo’s sick little game, and they were here to watch. I was lucky they didn’t have popcorn.

After about half an hour of this frustratingly fruitless search, a loud gong sounded through the rooms, and everyone drifted into an atrium. A large table sat in the middle, looking for all the world like an altar.

A tall figure stood on the top step of the raised dais behind the table. They had on a plague doctor mask, their body swathed in an even heavier cloak than the others. It was impossible to make out a single distinguishing feature other than their general bulky shape and height.

“Welcome, brothers and sisters of The Enclave.In tenebris prosperamus.”

The crowd echoed the Latin phrase. The speaker used a voice modulator, ensuring complete anonymity.

“Tonight, we have gathered, as is our tradition, for an initiation. The Enclave has always held closed ranks. One leaves, another enters. Tonight, one will enter. He who can survive the Hunt and Offering shall have the chance to advance.”

I backed slowly through the crowd. With everyone occupied, there was a good chance of searching for a way upstairs.

I gradually worked my way out of the crowd while the speaker continued. No one glanced in my direction. They seemed trancelike in their concentration. I wouldn’t have been surprised at all to find out that everyone was on something. None of this was normal. Adults didn’t usually play dress-up, but then they didn’t usually design drugs to turn people into zombies or brand people either, so it was pretty clear that members of The Enclave weren’t playing with a full deck.

I hurried down a long winding corridor toward the ladies’ restrooms. I hadn’t been here before. The hallway was no less Gothic than the rest of the building, and this one had what appeared to be ornate wooden confessionals set against the wall all the way down. What a strange thing to have in a hotel corridor. The Tartarus Hotel was beginning to feel like a place that people might never leave. There was a discreet gold plaque set in the wall beside the booths that read:

To Sin is Divine.

Alrighty then.

Just behind the last confessional, mostly hidden by a sharp turn in the wall, and the heavy wooden corner of the booth, was a door. My heart leaped into my mouth, and I hurried toward it. I turned the knob, hoping against hope that this was it, the place where Aldo had hidden Sol.

It was a storage room, by the looks of it, full of stacked chairs and folding tables. It was stuffy, a few clouded windows along one wall, allowing a tiny amount of light into the space. And Sol wasn’t here.

I turned to leave as soon as I’d gone in, only to find a shape stepping into the room after me. I got one quick glimpse of a beak-like profile in the light from the hall before the door snapped shut, closing us in. It was dark, despite the windows, and I couldn’t make anything out for a few agonizing moments while my eyes adjusted. Nerves licked down my spine. I didn’t have my knife. I didn’t have anything to protect myself with. I retreated until my back hit a wall.

Before me, I felt, more than saw, the person approach. I waited until they were close, and feinted to the side, before stepping the other way. A hard arm slammed into the wall beside me, blocking that exit route. I went the other way and found another arm there. I was caged in place.

Panic threatened to freeze me, but I couldn’t let that happen. I brought my knee up, but our heavy cloaks made my blow ineffective.

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