Page 71 of Among the Sins of my Father

“They’re not going to do anything while all these people are here.”

This time it’s Hope that grips my arm. I glare at her fingers but she doesn’t remove them like Barrett did. “You don’t know these people like I do, Jericho. You don’t know what they’re capable of.”

I lift her hand, peeling it from my arm. “And you don’t know what I’m capable of. If they’re as bad as you say, we shouldn’t wait another minute. They won’t stop me and I won’t do anything. Not now. Not yet. But I can’t just wait around any longer.”

And then I stride away, shoving my mask on and ignoring their pleas as I head toward the house.

The men at the door are guards. They’re dressed like butlers, but you can tell from their stances and stiff manners they’ve never greeted guests before in their lives. They look me over suspiciously but don’t say anything as I enter. There’s a maid who shows me down the hall and into the room with the other guests. I’m late. Everyone else is already here. I arrive just in time to see Michael step to the front and announce a special event in the other room. I follow as the guests file their way through the door.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Mr Gorman’s voice sounds behind me. “I don’t believe you were invited.”

I turn, plastering a grin on my face and hold out my hand. “I figured I’d give you a chance to return the hospitality I showed to you last night. Michael was kind enough to mention it.”

“He was?”

I nod and clamp my hand on his shoulder. “He was.”

A man is standing beside him, wearing the mask of a wolf. It takes a few moments for me to realize who he is. The monster. He’s smirking beneath the mask, twisting the expression of the wolf into something even more sinister.

“I don’t believe we’ve met.” He extends his hand.

There are a few tense moments as I stand there, refusing to accept his offer. As I glance around the gathering crowd, I can’t help but feel the heavy gaze of eyes on me. There are at least six guards in the room, maybe more.

The wolf-like monster waits, hand extended. I take a step toward him, closing the gap between us and he startles, moving backward, his eyes scanning the crowd for protection.

“That’s what I thought,” I hiss in his ear. “You will pay for your sins.”

He laughs but there’s fear in it. Part of me wishes I could rip the mask from his face and expose him then and there. But sending him back to prison isn’t in my plan.

Michael gets on the stage, calling for the attention of the room. Everyone quiets as the lights dim to darkness and then music starts. At first, the stage remains shrouded in the shadows and then the spotlight appears, shining on white feathers.

It’s Berkley.

She dances on pointe, her movements graceful and elegant and melancholy. Her arms flutter like wings. Transfixed, I take a step toward the stage. A guard moves toward me.

A hushed reverence falls over the crowd. Even the monster watches. I keep my eyes fixed on her as she twists and shapes herself into the embodiment of the swan. I watch as she struggles, fighting the death that threatens to overtake her. She commands the stage, every eye focussed on her. And then, as the music slows, she succumbs, wilting to the ground as silence swallows the stage and it falls into darkness.

The room is left spellbound by her performance until the lights flick back on again and then it erupts in thunderous applause.

Berkley is back on her feet. She smiles sadly, gives a small wave and as her gaze sweeps the crowd, her eyes lock on mine. They widen, filling with tears. She takes a step forward, but Michael comes up behind her and grabs her arm, thanking the crowd and pulling her off the stage. He’s whispering something in her ear as she looks back at me desperately. When he thinks they’re out of sight, he digs his fingers into her arm, jerking her viciously and spitting words in her face. She lifts her chin, eyes blazing and slaps him.

I move toward the stage, ready to rip her from Michael’s grasp, but the guards stalk toward me, stand either side, and wordlessly guide me from the room. I’m almost trembling with the need to fight my way back to her, but now is not the time. Not yet.

Is everything okay?” Someone says, threading their way through the crowd toward us.

“Everything is fine,” is the clipped response from one of the guards.

The man removes his mask. It’s Officer Conway, the little upstart who came to the Sanctuary to interview me and then later appeared at one of my games.

“Mr Priest, isn’t it?” He narrows his eyes as though trying to peer behind my mask. “You aren’t causing any problems now, are you?”

I don’t get a chance to respond before the guards push me past him, ignoring the surprised look on the faces of some of the guests as I’m unceremoniously shown the door.

chapter twenty-seven

BERKLEY

Michael drags me through the house, his fingers savagely digging into my arm, swiping a bottle of vodka on the way. He doesn’t care that people look on with alarm, that they mutter under their breath and shake their heads.

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