This is some real dark, ritualistic type of shit.
The lights in the basement turn off; the candles are the only light now. Billie’s mom thrashes on the table as a single set of footsteps sound on the stairs. They’re moving slowly, each creaking board sending my anxiety further into outer space. I glance at Zeke, who’s waiting with his breath held, too.
They’re fully robed, too, moving toward the fireplace to stand on the other side of the table from the man who’s kneeling. I pull my mask up to make sure I’m seeing what I’m fucking seeing right now. The person on the other side of the table has a huge ass animal skull over their head—horns reaching upward in a swirl-like direction.
I reach out and grab Zeke’s biceps when the man kneeling on this side of the table shrugs out of his robes and reveals himself—Patrick fucking Westminster. And when I squint my eyes to see what’s on his flesh, I inhale a sharp breath, taking in all the strange shapes and symbols that have been carved into him. I can’t tell if they’re old or new from this far back, but who the fuck would do that to themselves? Jesus.
“Do you, Patrick Alan Westminster, kneel before The Sons of Reapers to devote your entire life—living and dead—in exchange for regaining your seat of power?”
“I do,” he replies with his head down, never looking up once.
“In order for you to regain your seat, you understand you must provide a sacrifice in the form of blood?”
“I do.”
The skull-wearing figure pulls a dagger from within their robe, gliding the tip of its sharp blade against Mrs. Lucas’s arm. She jerks away the best she can in her restraints, but she’s not going anywhere. They offer the blade to Patrick, who takes it and stands on wobbling legs.
Zeke smacks me, then points through the boards, probably wondering why the hell we’re not stopping this yet. I point upstairs and then behind us toward the exit, trying to tell him we should get out of here because we’re kind of trapped.
I grab his hand and turn toward the stairs, but we don’t get far when two very large, robed figures stand behind us. My neck bends at a ninety-degree angle as I look up at this monster of a dude before their fist connects with my face. The cobweb coated ceiling above spins as the room goes black.
Chapter 44
BILLIE LUCAS
Wherethehellarethey?!
I’m watching the clock like a hawk, waiting for the twenty minutes to be up so I can call Dana. I don’t like that they came up with this plan on their own without any kind of backup. Hell, they didn’t even have a plan.
Staring down at my phone again to check the time, I don’t notice when someone runs up to the side of the car and yanks the door open. I scream at the top of my lungs, turning so my back is to the opposite door, my feet kicking out at my attacker, who’s wearing a black hooded robe.
“Help me!” I scream, praying that someone is walking by to witness my kidnapping. “Christian! Zeke!” My voice turning from screams to sobs as I kick at my assailant.
“Stop it, Billie. Goddamn it!”
I don’t recognize the voice, but they know my name. “Fuck off!”
He grabs a hold of my ankles and roughly drags me toward him. I continue to kick and scream, but he’s strong as hell and manhandles me until I’m standing on the concrete and my body is pinned between him and the car.
“Calm the fuck down!” he barks into my ear as his left forearm pins me down, his other hand reaching up to knock his hood back.
“Beau Barrett?”
“Yes. Fuck. We got the call to come to take part in a ceremony of power transition and knew you guys would follow the bread crumbs here. Your boys are inside with my guys, where I have others planted beneath the other robes. We’re here to stop this so your uncle doesn’t regain any power, but I need you to pretend like I’ve just kidnapped you from the back of this car when we go down there. Do you understand?”
I nod, unable to use my words because he’s crushing my lungs.
“And you understand we need to put on a little show so your boys might get pushed around a little bit, right?”
Again, I nod, but I don’t like what I’m agreeing to. The sight of anyone hurting my boys in any way makes me feral. But then again, maybe this will be a good thing because I won’t have to act so much.
“You ready?” he asks as he lets up and pulls me from the car.
Guiding me across the street, he pulls the hood back over his head and then grabs me like I’m truly his hostage.
“When this is all over with, mind telling your boys I had to do this in order to save your life?”
“Do what?”