Page 67 of Reaper Flame

My steaming nipples didn’t fool anyone. The only thing I was ready for was to be wrapped in a blanket with a hot guy, or three, and a marathon run of trash TV with junk food. Instead, I’d have to settle for a burned manor.

* * *

After getting ready in record time, I was starting to feel more alive - despite my pounding head. I fared better than Vixen, who wore huge diva sunglasses covering half her face. She looked ready to murder anyone who spoke above a whisper.

Unfortunately, Mieko couldn’t go further than two steps from the bathroom without retching. She made a fatal decision to match her fiancée drink-for-drink, and even a copious amount of caffeine wouldn’t be enough to make her borderline functional.

“Zander is not going to be happy,” Rocky murmured as we stepped outside the club to see two cars waiting.

Zander tapped his watch. “You’re late.”

“The manor won’t burn down any more in the next five fucking minutes!” Vixen scowled. “Chill out already!”

Zander ignored her and opened the door to a black sports car, which looked like a panther in mechanical form. In the same way that dogs resembled their human owners, Zander was like his car: smooth and fucking deadly.

“You’ll ride with me, Candy,” he ordered, opening the passenger side door. “Get in.”

I slid in without arguing and hoped he’d go easy on the gas. I already had a reputation for ruining cars after using one of West’s favorites to dispose of a body. He still hadn’t gotten over it.

The engine purred to life, and we pulled away as the others followed behind.

“How are you feeling about seeing the manor?” I asked.

Zander’s eyes stayed fixed ahead. He didn’t say a word.

“Fine,” I huffed after a long pause. “I’ll take the hint.”

Riding in silence didn’t bother me. If anything, it was better for my hangover. Plus, it’d beat the carnage that would be going on in the Jeep behind us when Vixen heard the roar of West’s engine.

I lowered the window and closed my eyes, enjoying the cool breeze hitting my face. A brisk wind and icy shower were the best ways to bring you back to life after a rough night.

Minutes ticked by. Finally, we started to climb the hill to the manor. The smell of a dying bonfire hung in the air and grew stronger the closer we got. I closed the window to block it out, but it’d already made its way inside. The smell lingered like a dark history that couldn’t be brushed away.

I gulped as we came to a stop. The last time I visited the manor was after Rocky’s funeral. It wasn’t recognizable as the same building and had been reduced to a half-charred mound of rubble. The harsh smell of gasoline stung my nostrils and burned the back of my throat. This was not an amateur pyromaniac’s job — it was professional. Whoever did it wanted to make sure nothing was salvageable. Judging by the impressive holes blown out of the sides of the building, controlled explosives had been used to bring it down. When they lit the place up, the sky would have been illuminated for miles around.

Zander stalked out of the car without saying a word. I followed quickly, having to take two steps for each of his long strides. His face remained emotionless as he stopped to regard the damage. For a place that used to be a hub of social activity, there was nothing but an eerie silence around us.

“Zander?” I asked gently. “Are you—”

He didn’t let me finish my sentence. He hurried over to the police tape that cordoned off the scene and ducked underneath. No amount of yellow warning signs would hold him back.

“Fuck,” I whispered as I got closer.

Huge holes where windows used to be meant you could see from one side of the ruins to the other. The heat of the fire must have blown the glass clean out of its frames, and crushed shards coated the ground, crunching under our feet like a layer of diamonds. Flames had ravaged the building, consuming it from the inside out. The upper floors collapsed into a mountain of remains. A lifetime of memories reduced to scraps of burnt fabric, ash, timber, and broken pieces. Briarly Manor, home to Port Valentine’s oldest family, had been wiped out.

Zander kicked a chunk of debris. “I’ve wanted to see this place burn for as long as I can remember.”

“And how do you feel now?”

“My mother loved it here,” he said, walking around the edge of the charred remnants of his former home. “As much as she hated my father, she still liked this place.”

Until now, he hadn’t realized what memories the manor held for him. It only amplified my hatred for Giles more. Vixen’s voice pierced through the clearing and broke the moment.

“Holy shit…” she gasped, holding a shaking hand to her mouth.

The others trekked over to join us, but no one said another word. We stood together like we were the only survivors at the end of the world.

The manor had once been a home, a prison, and a dream for some. It had been an institution in its own right, and now? It was over. The Briarly reign had ended, and a new history was about to be written. But what part would the Sevens play? It was anyone’s game, and people were playing to win.

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