Page 54 of Virgin Sacrifice

That had been part of my motivation in looking for her today. It was Luz’s birthday, and I’d thought it would be the perfect occasion for a punishment. Now she had gone and earned herself another.

Nix’s phone buzzed, and he released a heavy sigh as he read the incoming message before putting out the joint. “Lucian’s ready. We’ve been summoned.”

My twin led the way, and I walked behind him, deftly navigating the wide hallways that wound through Blackwell Manor. The estate may have been our late-childhood home, but it held no sense of warmth, no nostalgia. We both had rooms here, but Nix and I rarely stayed at the manor anymore.

The two of us were the official bastards of Tyler Blackwell.

As the story goes, after the passing of Elisabeth, Lucian’s precious mummy, Tyler turned into a degenerate manwhore, basically fucking any woman who gave his drunken, disheveled ass the time of day. My mother was one of many who he screwed around with in exchange for him supporting her drug-fueled lifestyle. When she found she was carrying not one but two of the sons of a wealthy man, she thought she’d hit the jackpot.

Unfortunately for my mother, Tyler didn’t give a shit about us or her, and he happily left us to suffer together for the first eight years of my life. It wasn’t until several years after he died that CPS suddenly decided that they cared for our well-being, thanks to a hefty bribe from our grandfather, who had decided more Blackwell heirs were always better, and we were violently ripped from the arms of our drug-addled mother.

I didn’t have many particularly fond memories of the woman. She was an addict at her worst and a shitty mom at her best. When she died of an overdose a couple of years ago, I felt nothing other than the same small satisfaction that I would at the passing of any other miserable soul. The world was a better place without her.

Victor Blackwell may have been the devil, but unlike with my mother, what Nix and I suffered at his hands gave us purpose, it made us stronger. We were never going to be anything other than killers, but my grandfather made us masters of our craft, giving shape and meaning to what would have otherwise likely been a short, dull, violent life.

Nix prowled languidly into Lucian’s office, and I stalked in behind him, making a beeline for our usual seat, a small tufted brown leather sofa. It sat several feet in front of the far wall, which was covered from floor to ceiling with books like most of the room save for the massive fireplace behind Lucian’s desk.

The others were already there, also in their usual places. Locke sat with perfect, albeit rigid, posture, holding a glass of Scotch in one hand, inspecting the neat manicure of his other.

In contrast, Ever was languidly draped across his chair with his head hanging off one side and his legs lazily cast over the other. Anyone else and my oldest brother would have reamed them out, but with Everest he had long ago learned to pick his battles.

Then there was the heir apparent himself, Lucian. While we shared the same dark blue eyes and tall frame, that was where the similarities between us ended. Lucian had thick black wavy hair he wore brushed back from his face, although a couple of pieces always seemed to fall out of place. His nose and jaw were wider, giving him more of a brutish look, and where Nix and I were strong and fast, built like swimmers, Lucian was a mountain of a man. With about fifty pounds of muscles on us, he always seemed to loom large, even though we had been the same height as him since we were teenagers.

I made myself comfortable next to my twin, assessing our fearless leader, always trying to see what he wasn’t saying.

Lucian sat perched on the edge of his desk, a massive oak piece that dominated the large room. He had removed his suit jacket, which was unusual for him, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. Like Locke, he was already deep into a tumbler of Scotch, one that he gripped tightly while he observed the rest of us in return.

Whatever the hell was going, it had him riled up.

After a couple more beats of silence, he took a swig and placed his glass back on the desk, leveling all of us with a dark look.

“They found a body today.”

To my right, Nix scrunched his face up. Blackwells were many things, but sloppy wasn’t one of them. If one of us had left a body behind, then they were in big trouble. Locke and I didn’t make those types of mistakes, but the other two had in the past. As far as I knew though, my twin hadn’t killed anyone lately, so I didn’t think he had much to worry about.

“The first of the missing students, the one from the spring,” Lucian continued.

Ah, that made more sense.

“And that requires an urgent meeting?” Locke scoffed.

Lucian said nothing but cut my cousin a look that said his disrespect had not gone unnoticed.

“The body was found in an alleyway in town; the girl’s heart had been removed from her body and placed on top of her chest.” Lucian’s voice was dead of any emotion.

Locke kept his mouth shut, realizing, as we all did, that changed things.

Smiling eagerly, Everest spun around in his chair to land on his feet. Lucian now commanded his full attention. “Sounds messy.”

“It was,” my brother replied matter-of-factly, “although, from what I understand the heart was removed postmortem. They believe she was suffocated to death.”

Ever steepled his fingers, nodding along thoughtfully.

“I’ve yet to receive the photos from the police, but they’ve told me she was found deliberately arranged on the ground, almost ritualistically dressed in some sort of white, old-fashioned-looking nightgown.”

Everest’s eyes went wide. “A sacrifice?” he whispered dramatically.

Lucian ignored him. “I think we all know what this means.” His gaze burned into each of us.

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