15. Magnus
“ I ’m sorry, sir.” Gabe says quietly as soon as I enter the room.
Ahead, I can see them, two Lords, my brother, but it’s Antonio’s presence that makes me pause. Something truly awful must have happened for the higher-ups up to deign to get off their seats and come visit.
I bat my butler away and turn my focus to the man they call the Kingmaker.
He inclines his head as I approach and I pour two whiskeys, already knowing the way he likes it. Single Malt. Neat. No ice. Just a double measure.
“Magnus,” he says, shaking my hand before taking the drink.
“What do we owe the pleasure?” I ask.
“Not a pleasure, I’m afraid.” he replies, giving no other hint in his voice.
I gesture to the chesterfield and he takes his seat before I do mine with a slight creak of the leather.
“We have a situation,” he states. “A delicate one.”
“Tell me.”
Antonio glances around, waving his hand and all but dismissing the other Lords from the room. Conrad glances at me and I give the slightest nod for him to follow them out.
“Girls are going missing. Notable girls. Notable families.” Antonio says as soon as the door shuts behind them all.
“What girls?” I ask.
He lists of half a dozen, most I know only from their surname, not because they’re of any interest to me.
“Also, Mary-Anne Turner.” he says, fixing me with a look I don’t like.
I take a slow sip while deciding how best to play this. “What is it you want me to do?” I’m not a detective. I don’t give a shit what happens to these families. My role is to play executioner for the Brethren, to meet out justice. I don’t get involved in bullshit like this.
His lips curl. He sinks back, causing the oxblood leather to creak and he pulls one ankle up over the other. “I know you have her. Or at least, you did.” he says quietly. Confidently. And yet, not exactly threateningly. “You’ve probably already realised you were being set up and you’ve disposed of her if you have any wits about you.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I reply calmly, before taking another delightful drink. Like I’ll admit what I’ve done with such little evidence to accuse me.
“No?” He muses. “I happen to know the girl was brought to Oblivion, and I happen to know she’s not there anymore.”
“If she is… ”
“Hold that thought.” Antonio says, raising his finger slightly. “Hear me out first.”
I shift, making myself comfortable, but all the while I’m aware of the knife I’ve got tucked into my ankle. If this man tries anything, I’ll gut him before he can even make it halfway to the door. I don’t give a fuck who he is. I don’t give a fuck that he made the last two Chapter Lords. I will rip his throat out before I give in.
“Turner is failing.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard,” he says. “He’s got health issues. It’s need to know. We thought we could contain it, keep it under wraps. But the man is deteriorating and someone outside the circle obviously knows.”
“Why are you telling me this?” This is dangerous talk. This is exactly the kind of treasonous shit that gets you sent to Oblivion.
“You’re a smart man, Magnus. Clever. You have the right credentials. With the right support you could do it.”
I blink. Not quite sure I heard him right, but then, what else could he be suggesting?
“They took his daughter, literally pulled her off the street,” he continues. “If that isn’t a sign, then what is?”
I put the glass down, leaning forward, glancing behind to double check that we are still alone, that no one is there to hear all of this. He may be the Kingmaker, but that doesn’t make him completely infallible.
“What about the other girls?” I say. It’s not just Mary-Anne. He said it himself, other notable girls are going walkies, too.
Antonio waves his hand. “They’re nothing. Just jabs. They’re meant to get us riled up. It’s all part of a plot to create upheaval.”
“And you think you can get ahead of this?” I ask.
He nods. “With you as Chapter Lord.”
Jesus, this is happening. He actually means it. It’s hard not to revel in the thought of it, of having that much power. Of having that much authority. God, the things I would change. The things I would do. My mind drifts to Conrad and Devin. Being Chapter Lord would help them, would help us. We’d be the leading family then. We’d be unmatched, unrivalled.
And we’d also put a massive target on our heads.
I grin at the idea. Wouldn’t it be fun, to truly have a fight, to truly feel danger? God, the adrenaline rush alone from such a fight would be worth it.
“So you agree?” Antonio asks. “If Turner is removed…”
“How?” It’s not exactly an easy thing to achieve. It’s not meant to be. The only reason Turner became Chapter Lord was because the old one died in such shocking circumstances we all had to move quickly to maintain calm. To simply put Turner aside now will cause a riot.
“That’s none of your concern.” Antonio says. “As long as you trust me enough…”
His words fade out as my thoughts focus on that; trust. Do I trust him? He’s never been an enemy, but he’s never been an ally, either. Could he be the one behind this, pulling the strings, setting me up for failure and using my own greed to hang myself?
“Let me do my job, Magnus. And in a couple of months, you will have it all.”
He holds out his hand like an offering, an agreement. I have no cause to question him and yet, if he is up to something, I can take my own steps, I can ensure me and my brothers outlive it.
We shake, both of us crunching the other’s knuckles, and as he’s shown out, I stay there, mulling it over.
But this is proof, isn’t it? This is more proof that God favours me, favours our family. It’s not like I really need it, I mean, you don’t get to where I am without God on your side. You aren’t just granted honours like being a Blake, being a reaper, just because you go lucky. Things like that, they’re bestowed on those who are worthy. Those who deserve it. Men like me .
With a satisfied sigh, I take a final swig of my whiskey and mull my future over. Just because my path is God-given doesn’t make it any less taxing to achieve. And besides, if I’m going to do this, I will need to tighten my ship, I need to protect my assets—starting first with the loose cannons.
I pick up my phone, scroll down quickly, then hit the dial button.
“It’s me,” I say as the line picks up. “Put him on.”
There’s a momentary pause, a shuffle, and then I hear the phone handed over.
“Devin,” I say and my brother grunts down the other end. He was never much of a conversationalist before, but this last year has done nothing to help that.
“I have a task for you.”
The silence tells me he’s listening.
“There are some loose ends I need sorted.” I state. “Do this, clear the way, and you can come back.”
“How many?” my brother asks, already understanding what I’m not saying.
“Fifteen.”
Fifteen people I need eliminated. Fifteen people I need to disappear. Not all of them are technically a threat right now, but they could be, given the right incentive and I’m not going to let that happen.
“I want her back. That’s my price.”
I let out a frustrated sigh because, still, the man is obsessed with her. It’s been five years. Five fucking years.
“She’s not worth it.” I state.
“To me, she is. Give me Paitlyn. Give me her, and I’ll do what you want.”
It’s the most the man has said in more than a year. It’s hard not to react, not to lose my patience entirely. “Dev…”
“Give me Paitlyn,” he all but screams down the phone at me.
“Fine,” I agree. “But you do the task first. Then you get her.”
I’m not so stupid as to hand her over. For all I know, he’ll snap her neck in five minutes and then the job won’t get done at all.
He hangs up on me, which tells me enough that he agrees.
And in the silence that follows, I pull up the screen, watching the girl in question on my phone. She’s huddled in a corner, on the second lowest level of Oblivion. The one where every mask is claimed for. Every person has an owner.
Paitlyn is lucky enough that her owner isn’t into the more physical types of torture. No, he’s more about the psychological; though I guess we have that in common. Brute force will only get you so far, and besides, where’s the fun in achieving what any man can do? Breaking a mind is far more satisfying, breaking a person, watching them alter and bend to your will, that is the finest delicacy, the greatest art a person can achieve.
Darling Paitlyn, here, has been on the receiving end of that for long enough that she’s clearly lost her mind entirely. Perhaps it’ll be a mercy to hand her back to Devin so that he can finally have his few hours of revenge and close that chapter once and for all.
God permitting it will be as simple as that. Devin will do what is necessary and then he will return, become the brother he was before. Become the brother both I and Conrad need him to be.