Page 33 of Sinner

I almost choked. “Who gives a shit. He didn’t care about us. Neither did our mother.”

“No one told us dick and you know it. Fucking social services continues to hide something either tragic or disgusting from all of us. Every one of us tried to discover our past. It took a fucking court order to locate the two of you.”

“Why the hell is this important to you?”

Wilder slumped further into his seat. He was really bothered by this. “Maybe because my thoughts and dreams have been filled with the need for destruction. I want nothing more than to wrap my hands around some prick’s throat. Maybe I’m disgusted with being me.”

“Maybe you’re searching too hard for answers that aren’t there.”

He looked me directly in the eyes. “Maybe you’re right. Discovering who the fuck they are won’t change anything.”

“You should probably realize that it might, but not for the better,” I told him.

A light rap on my door brought the conversation to a halt. My assistant popped her head in.

“You asked me to let you know when the candidates had arrived.”

“Which group?” my brother asked, now with a sly smile on his face.

“The females. They are all positioned in the quiet rooms waiting for their partners,” she said to both of us.

“Thanks, Carrie.” I took a deep breath, swinging my chair back and forth.

He glanced over his shoulder, waiting until she’d closed the door. “You like playing with fire.”

“So the fuck what? Ms. Sophie Turner isn’t exactly who she pretends to be and I want to know why. What is she gunning for other than a taste of the darkness only we can provide?”

“You think she’s listened to the whispers about the Obsidian Society on the great dark web?”

I nodded. “I’m certain given she’s in the same profession she’s done her homework.” Maybe he was right and checking her entire background was a good idea. Besides, something continued to nag at me, including her real name. I didn’t like red flags.

“That’s just it. Beware of those who speak our language. They could also be predators, but of a different color.”

“Duly noted.”

He rose from his chair, still smiling at me, yet I could see by the look in his eyes he was still on some mission to learn more about our ancestry. I couldn’t care less. I had a feeling Zach didn’t either. But he could do what he wanted. He was his own man.

I had other things to do.

Tasks that fulfilled me.

He left my office, leaving the door open. I glanced at the picture of Jessica I’d downloaded, tracing her face with my index finger. “Soon. Very soon.”

CHAPTER 11

Jessica

I couldn’t believe I’d worn jeans to an interview. Comfortable, rugged attire had been recommended given the nature of this particular test. Still, I was antsy and didn’t feel nearly as in control as I’d hoped after waking up that morning.

I’d thought for certain after several days had passed that I’d been shut out of the possibility of getting the job. Then another invitation had arrived via snail mail, this one blood red in color with the same gold writing. So here I was bright and early on a Monday morning.

Desdemona.

I’d chosen my screen name during a playful moment, a nod to part of a song I enjoyed listening to. Did it reflect the woman inside? Probably not, but it usually made me smile.

Not today.

As my nickname flashed on the screen, my heart rate skyrocketed to the point I was almost short of breath. The invitation hadn’t provided much information other than to be at the Blackwell Group’s office at a specific time. When I’d arrived, I’d been escorted to a waiting room that was full of other women, all different ages and dressed in various forms of attire.

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