Page 60 of Sinner

The question was why.

It wasn’t impossible to believe. She obviously knew who I was and what I’d once meant to her father. But she’d been so fucking young. Or maybe I hadn’t been paying attention. I’d managed toblock out the majority of details regarding that period of my life. The day I’d left Baltimore, I’d promised myself I would never look back or relive either the good times or the tragedy.

Wasn’t there some ridiculous adage about never being able to run away from your past sins? I snorted at the thought as I strode through the ballroom, nodding politely to guests attempting to hide behind garish masks. Yet I knew every single person in the room. Human traits were easy to track, their foibles allowing for instant identification. That had certainly been helpful during my darker days.

Jessica. She held no resemblance to her father, but as soon as the information had been dumped on my computer, I’d noticed she had her mother’s eyes.

And her sister’s.

Why the fuck was she here? Yes, Jessica was extremely talented, but for her, working the system to possibly garner a job was for an entirely different reason.

What had Michael told her? I was fairly certain he likened me to the devil himself.

I’d get to the bottom of it during the night of the carnival. While patience wasn’t a virtue in my world, the frightening challenge would provide the truth. I was certain of it. She was doing what so many others did.

She was hiding behind a mask.

But now I knew it wasn’t just because of the darkness ebbing and flowing inside of her, but something more personal in nature.

Masks.

As I moved through the ballroom, I fixated on the many styles from festive to gory.

I found the fact Wilder had insisted the celebration of our successful endeavors included a requirement of wearing masks amusing as hell. He did have a rather sick sense of humor. I’d almost selected one of Sinner’s for the event just to get under my brother’s skin. But I’d chosen a stylish Phantom of the Opera instead.

The evening wasn’t about bringing attention to the Obsidian Society. In fact, doing so would likely drown our offices with hate mail and could cause our sales to fall. This was all about playing the political game to keep our name in the papers.

And to warn our competitors to back the fuck off.

Fortunately, the first day Dark Nights had been on the market had been wildly successful, record sales all across the board.

I’d heard cheering in various offices throughout the day and quite frankly, I’d left early due to my level of annoyance.

The ballroom was packed. Anyone who thought they were someone had deemed it necessary to be a part of the event. I still found the entire necessity of pretending as if these people were our equals beneath me.

“Masks, Wilder. Really?” Zachariah asked as soon as he closed the circle of the three of us. He fiddled with his. I found his choice of the same one I’d used when meeting with Merrick amusing. “A little too on the nose, don’t you think?”

Although coming to the event with a full mask might scare people given the ones we each had stored in our collections.

Wilder, on the other hand, appeared quite regal in the gold mask with horns. He believed himself to be the devil in disguise. From what I knew about him, I’d consider that truthful.

He’d once told me a story about killing his older foster brother who’d sexually abused him for a number of years. I couldn’t say I blamed the man for disemboweling the bastard.

We each had our own crosses to bear, memories that would destroy almost anyone. But we weren’t like normal men.

In so many ways we were gods among men.

“You’ve told me since we’ve known each other that I have a wicked mind. I thought I’d prove you right for a change.” Wilder was in rare form, wearing his red tuxedo jacket while Zach and I had retained our traditional white and black look.

“Yes, well, you should know I’m always right.” Zach lifted his glass. We were all scanning the ballroom full of people. “A festive crowd.”

“Mmm… You mean boring,” I piped in. I’d waltzed in all of fifteen minutes earlier and so far, I’d been propositioned by three women and had two male individuals try to impress me with their knowledge of Dark Nights.

I’d simply walked away from all five individuals. I wasn’t here to pick up anyone or pretend as if I cared about what they had to say. This was my single obligation I’d accept for the remainder of the year.

Unless one could consider the upcoming true Dark Nights event a required event.

I took a sip of my whiskey, marveling in the taste.

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