Page 5 of Judgment Day

Why?

Something dark and unnerving settled in my chest. “Why isn’t he meeting us here?”

“He said something about not wanting to waste time.” Caspian picked up his phone and tucked it back into his pocket. “We’ll pick him up at the airport and go to the Sanctuary together.”

Liam was the most laid-back and carefree of us all. He did nothing but waste time. Something was off.

I inhaled a deep breath. It wasn’t according to plan, but it would have to work.

Time to watch them burn.

TWO

The drivefrom my estate to the Sanctuary was about two hours. Day had bled into night. The moon watched over us from behind the rows of trees that lined the curvy road. What we were about to do was dangerous, and we all knew it. We were five men taking on one hundred, shaking their world to its core. I couldn’t promise we would all walk out of there alive. But I could promise that if I went down, every sadistic fuck was going down with me.

“Ignore Lincoln.” Chandler’s voice dragged me away from my thoughts. “He thinks he’s protecting her.”

I kept my eyes on the road. “How noble of him, but he doesn’t need to protect her fromme.”

Caspian and Lincoln followed behind me in one of my other cars. There was no way Lincoln and I would make it two hours together in a confined space without one of us ending up on the side of the road.

Chandler grabbed a water bottle from the cup holder, then twisted the cap and took a drink. “I know that. You know that. But in his mind, you’re one of them.”

I gripped the wheel and cut him a glare. “I did what I had to do in a difficult situation—a situationyouput me in, if I’m not mistaken.”

I wanted nothing to do with Judgment Day. The only reason I agreed to finally participate and choose Lyric was as a favor to Chandler.

When I was nineteen, I was sentenced to prison for murder by Lord Charles Findley, a member of the Brotherhood and one of Winston Radcliffe’s oldest friends. Lords were untouchable. Powerful. Especially Lord Presidents. But Chandler had connections to a high-ranking military official who had staged a raid on the prison I’d spent five years in. The whole thing went to hell in a handbasket, and the prison ended up in flames. Miraculously, the Lord President resigned the next day. Years of torture vindicated with one phone call. I owed him one.

“We’ve all done shit we’re not proud of,” Chandler said, and I had a feeling he was thinking of Anniston. “Lyric was lucky you saved her.”

“Was she?” I wasn’t so sure.

“Yeah. She was.”

The rest of the ride was silent. He kept to his thoughts, and I sifted through mine. They mostly revolved around what information Liam had that made him want to go straight to the Sanctuary. I knew that feeling. The high. There was an unrivaled adrenaline rush that came with that kind of control. Like a conductor standing in front of his orchestra, commanding the room with a flick of his wrist. We were about to conduct a bloody symphony.

Malcolm Huntington and Kipton Donahue were both dead, and—if all went according to plan—Winston Radcliffe would be taken care of soon. The only two left on the Tribunal were me and Pierce Carmichael. Carmichael was rich but weak. He was only on the council because of his bloodline.

Caspian would soon take his father’s seat.

Chandler had been officially inducted into the Brotherhood.

The twisted little playhouse had been turned to ash, along with its depraved website.

I hadn’t even planned on Anniston falling in love with Chandler, but it worked in our favor.

All the pieces were falling into place.

We drove straight onto the tarmac next to Liam’s personal plane. The steps descended and he walked out. His dark, messy hair flopped over his forehead. He wore his light-blue button-up rolled up to the elbow and untucked. His bright, contagious smile beamed, even in the dark of night.

Caspian pulled up next to me, waiting for our next move.

Liam climbed into the backseat.

Chandler peered over his shoulder at him. “This better be orgasmic.”

Liam grinned and it lit up his whole face. “I guarantee you’ll nut in your pants.” He reached inside his suit jacket. “My father had help. He wasn’t doing this alone.”

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