Page 62 of Judgment Day

THIRTY SIX

Winston stayedunconscious all the way to the airport, then the entire flight to Edinburgh. Maddox put him in the trunk—crazy bastard—after he’d bound his wrists and ankles so that he couldn’t try to fight on the off-chance he woke up.

Everyone was gathered at the Sanctuary. Lincoln. Chandler, and Caspian sat at the Tribunal table. If this was hell, then we were the Four Horsemen here to declare war and bring it to its end.

The other sixty-five men stood in a circle around the red snake symbol, surrounded by red-flamed torches burning against stone walls. They were all dressed in ceremonial robes and held a vial of clear liquid with both hands, the way an altar boy would hold a candle.

I tied Winston to his throne and placed it on a flat dolly, then rolled it to the middle of the room. His face was still covered in blood. His appearance was nothing like that of the man who flew into a rant at our last meeting. Caspian met me in the center of the circle, then handed me a crown to place on Winston’s head.

All eyes were on us as I waved smelling salts underneath his nose to wake him up.

He turned his head to the side, away from the pungent scent of ammonia before opening his eyes and glancing wildly around the room. He tried lifting his hands before noticing they’d been strapped to the arms of his throne.

“What the fuck, Van Doren?” Spit flew from his mouth.

I ignored him, turning to the men gathered around us. “There is a new Brotherhood.” I nodded to the Tribunal table. “With new leaders.” I glared at Winston. “New rituals.” My eyes scanned the group. “New rules.” I held up my own vial of clear liquid. “Consider this your initiation. One of these vials contains enough tetrodotoxin to paralyze him and kill him within hours. For those not familiar, it’s the poison extracted from the organs of a puffer fish.” The men looked at the vials, then to one another, and to Winston, before setting their gaze back on me.Yes, I was a monster. Yes, they were about to find out exactly why they called me brutal.“You were given the vials at random. I don’t even know which one contains the poison.” I swept my vial underneath my nose, inhaling the stale scent of plain water. “One at a time, you’ll each pass by Winston and make him drink your vial.” Their eyes grew wide. “This makes any one of us a murderer and everyone else an accomplice.” I brought the vial back down. “If you don’t have the stomach for it, feel free to leave and forfeit your seat in the Brotherhood.”

“You’re insane,” Winston shouted. “You won’t ever get away with this.”

“It looks like you had some bad Japanese food.” I clicked my tongue on the roof of my mouth. “Chandler has the credit card receipt, and Maddox should be signing for the delivery right about—” I checked my watch. “—now.”

“Are you really going to let him do this?” he yelled to the room. “This is murder!”

“A much better sin than rape and torture, right, Winston?”

“Fuck you!” He struggled against the straps again.

“Someonepleaseshut this asshole up.”

Lincoln walked over from the Tribunal table and stood behind the throne. To anyone else, he was just another man helping out a fellow brother. It was a gesture of loyalty, of companionship.I’m in this, it said.We’re in this. His eyes met mine in a silent acknowledgment as he cupped his hands over Winston’s nose, locking his fingers together and making it impossible to breathe without Winston opening his mouth. That had to fucking hurt, considering I’d broken his nose a couple of hours ago. I narrowed my gaze and gave him a nod.Thank you.And then I poured the contents of my vial down Winston’s throat. He spit it back at me.

I wiped a hand over my face. “Who’s next?”

One by one, the men filed by, feeding Winston their vials. He shook his head against Lincoln’s grip. He bit the vials. He clamped his mouth shut until his face turned blue. He drank the liquid, then spit it back out. He called them by name, begging for mercy.

“Glynne, please. John, don’t do this. Richard, I have a family, a kingdom,” he said to each of them as they passed. Not one of them gave him grace. Not one of them walked out. All sixty-five men lined up to deliver Winston his punishment.

Finally, after vial number thirty-one, he accepted his fate. When the last man served his portion of justice, and Winston was coughing and spitting, I addressed the room.

“Welcome to the Brotherhood, gentlemen.” I gave them a smile. “Your loyalty will be rewarded.”

Elections would be won. Mergers would be conquered. Properties would be acquired. Plus, Caspian, Chandler, Lincoln and I had come together to deposit twenty-five thousand dollars in each of their accounts. It was a small gesture, but this was only the beginning.

Lincoln dropped his hand, wiping his blood and snot-covered palm down the front of Winston’s suit.

Chandler stepped into the center of the room, carrying a clear box with a red cobra inside. It was a symbol of our society. This same type of snake crippled me in a forest twelve years ago. It had made me weak. I was about to make it bleed.

I lifted the lid.

The snake lifted its head.

Chandler set the box on the floor. The snake slithered up the side and onto the floor, over his painted-on likeness.

Silence spread across the room. Even Winston held his breath.

Fear didn’t constrict my nerves. My heart raced with rage, not anxiety.

The snake stilled, then curled, flared its hood.

---