Page 17 of Seducer

The article. An overzealous reporter working with an asshole who’d wanted to destroy the Blackwell Group. The rumors had died down, but would likely never disappear completely.

The other two men at the table were suddenly holding their breaths. Fortunately, I wasn’t in the mood for violence that night. “Fine, Brant. The reporter was an idiot. There are certain upper echelons within the Blackwell Group of gamers who’ve been with us for years. They receive perks and freebies. They call themselves the Obsidian Society. You know. Dark Nights? Obsidian is a black substance. Nothing unusual.”

“Uh-huh. No hunting grounds? No capturing people like kidnapping or kinky shit involving mask much like the one you’re wearing?”

“You’re describing Dark Nights perfectly, dude. You haven’t played?” Steve chided, trying to defuse the situation.

That Brant had latched onto this disturbed the hell out of me. The Obsidian Society had existed in secrecy, those chosen to be members of the club doing so after going through several trials involving one of our X-rated virtual reality games, before even more demanding trials in real life. Yes, the tests were often violent or kinky, but the contestants weren’t forced into vying for the single yearly position. They hungered for the darkness just like I did.

Some people would consider our undertaking dangerous and disgusting. Who the hell hunted humans for fun? But those involved were fueled by the games.

The birth of the Obsidian Society had been based on need to quell the demons locked away deep inside three brothers who had known little about each other after growing up separately in foster care.

Plus, without the resource and outlet, our carnal, visceral needs couldn’t be controlled.

“Nope. I think there’s more. I think you grew bored and allowed the virtual to become real.” Brant was intoxicated enough he had no idea how close he was to unleashing my rage.

It took everything I had to keep from doing so.

“A myth, my friend.” I wasn’t insistent, just making the statement in a matter-of-fact manner.

“Then what about that ring you wear, a signature for all members.” He pointed to the gold and obsidian ring on my finger, the huge black gem surrounded by diamonds.

I twirled the ring as I glanced down at the piece required by all Obsidian members, laughing softly as I did so. “A family heirloom.”

Only Jacob knew significant details about my past or my family, although the fact three brothers owned Blackwell Group was known throughout the gaming industry. We were true powerhouses, men who’d gone from nothing to billionaires in a few years with hard work, loss of sleep, and a dark, detailed vision of the direction virtual reality games should be heading in.

With the use of artificial intelligence, we’d kicked the entire field up more than a few notches. There were companies around the world scrambling to match what we’d achieved months before.No one could rival Dark Nights, the award-winning and record-breaking game heads above the competition.

“I don’t get why you’re hiding this great society. Sounds like a blast to me. Hunting. Capturing. Right up my alley.” Brant was still fishing.

“Dude. Why grill the man on business shit? He answered your question.” Steve was more the voice of reason.

“Let it go,” Jacob warned me.

I took a deep breath. Tonight I’d need relief to curtail the beast clawing at the surface. Blood wasn’t on the menu. It was too risky when not in a controlled environment. “Is this really all about the new club?”

Brant leaned across the table. “You should have seen your face, buddy. Good God. Sure, I want you to come as my guest on opening night. That’s it. If you like what you see, maybe we can have a discussion.”

Right now wasn’t the time to grill him on where he’d gleaned the information. It was entirely possible that the recent scathing article written on the Blackwell Group with the mention of our other nocturnal activities was the reason to blame, but I wasn’t certain. Gossip about our supposed debauchery had been all the rage in town for weeks. But like everything else, people had grown bored since no evidence had been found.

Either way, the other two men seemed less interested in the conversation, which I was glad of. “Give me the address, you dickhead. And the opening date.”

“Does that mean you’ll show?” Brant smirked, a content look forming in his eyes.

“That means I’ll consider it. I’m not making any promises.” I pointed my finger at him and he grinned like he’d gotten one over on me.

His questions were far too on topic, especially after the two earlier incidents. While I didn’t know Brant very well, I’d vetted him as I had Steve very closely before deciding to enter into a friendship.

One could never be too careful. There was far too much money on the table and too many secrets to keep locked away.

If released, the damning information would undoubtedly ruin four lives, soon to be five when another board member was appointed to the Blackwell Group.

That was something I couldn’t allow to occur.

If the man needed to disappear, that’s what would happen.

Friend or not.

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