18. Magnus
“ M ove the girl.” I order.
It’ll ruffle feathers I know, especially considering she’s bought and paid for, but it is what it is. I gave my word, made a deal, and that’s the end of it. Her owner may have enjoyed her, but she’s easily replaceable enough and that fact was proven by how little a protest he made when I suggested it.
From my chair, I watch the screen as the door opens and two of my guards stalk in and unlock Paityln from where she’s chained to the wall. She’s so compliant she doesn’t seem to react but then Guthrie, her owner, walks in and her entire body language changes.
Even I can see how the chains are rattling from her trembling.
He’s a big man, over six foot. What was once muscles has turned to fat, but that doesn’t make him look any the weaker for it. No, the man could still have you with very little effort. His hair is thinning at the back, but his beard is thick enough that it makes him look almost viking-esque.
He says something and the guards respond.
And then he turns, looking directly at the cameras as if he doesn’t know what’s happening. As if he wasn’t more than happy to take the millions in payment. Not that the girl is worth it, far from it. But it was what was necessary. Devin wants her back. Well, he can have her gift-wrapped and ready. Though I doubt he’ll find her to be the same girl she was.
My eyes linger on the emaciated figure, practically hanging there between my guards. We’ll have to feed her up or she might very well die and I can’t have that.
I bark into the radio, ordering them to take her down to the medical bay. I’ll have her accessed, treated, then they can come up with a suitable feeding plan to ensure she’s fit and healthy and ready for whatever the hell my dear brother has planned for her.
Guthrie makes a big show of saying goodbye, cupping her breasts, grabbing her arse like he’s trying to store up the memory of how she feels in his mind.
“Get the other one in there.” I bark, already growing impatient with this nonsense. This was meant to be a simple process, why is everyone making it so much harder than it needs to be?
I hear the screams, the yelps, the pathetic attempt at fighting as a newer, chubbier model is dragged in. She’s got a collar around her neck, just like all the inmates here do and the guard is dragging her along by the chain.
Guthrie’s attention immediately snaps to her and it’s like Paitlyn no longer exists. Like she’s vanished. It’s almost curious how he can care so little considering who she is, what she’s done to his family as well as mine.
But instead, he stalks over to his new toy, pushing the guard out the way and he yanks the chain forcing the girls face to come right in front of him.
His eyes drop, he clearly starts scrutinising her as if this isn’t all a done deal.
“I said I wanted to pick,” he hollers loudly.
I roll my eyes, knowing those words are meant for me.
“Get the girl to medical.” I snap, ignoring the jibe, wondering why my guards are still fucking around with all of this.
Did we not plan this out? Did I not make myself more than abundantly clear?
Guthrie steps forward, blocking the path and hollers again before yanking his own phone from his pocket, and within seconds, my own is ringing.
“We had a deal.” I say as soon as I pick up.
“I’ve changed my mind.”
“So quickly?” I taunt.
He growls into my ear, “I want more.”
“More what?”
“Money.”
For fuck’s sake, I’ve already paid more than the whore is worth.
“You know what she did, you know what she is to me…”
“And you’ve had more than enough time to get your revenge.”
“She killed…”
“Guthrie.” I bark, silencing those words, killing them off before he can speak them. There are too many ears here, too many loose mouths as well.
“Five,” he says, coming to his senses. “Five million.”
“That’s enough?”
“And another girl. I want two now. Two toys.”
“Fine,” I sigh, losing my patience. Does he really think I’ve got all day to play silly buggers with him ?
His family may have been the big hitters but not anymore, now all that power is gone, and Guthrie himself is responsible for it, all that drinking, all that gambling had to have repercussions.
“Fine,” he shouts up at the cameras, hanging up on me at the same time.
The guards look between themselves then finally come to their damned senses. But as Paitlyn is hauled from the room, the entire screen in front of me flickers and then goes blank like someone cut the electrics.
“What the fuck?” I mutter, but I’m up, out of my chair, and already out the door before my brother even looks around at me.
I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but I’ve had more than enough. If you want a job done properly, apparently you really do have to do it yourself.
I storm down the corridor, pushing past the few guards who haven’t noticed my presence. This entire section where my office is, is blocked off, private, as far removed from the carnage beyond as it possibly can be.
The lift chimes merrily as it opens and I step in, folding my arms, wondering how much bullshit one man really is expected to put up with.
The doors close silently and I stand there, staring at my reflection on the polished chrome walls. I look tired, I look overworked. It’s not the kind of impression I’m used to presenting and already I’m contemplating how best to work off the stress of today’s proceedings, how I can meek out every inconvenience, every annoyance, on the flesh of my plaything. My hands itch as if she’s already here, already on her knees, waiting for it.
She’s going to have the beating of a lifetime today, despite what my previous plans were .
The lift comes to a stop. The doors slide open, and smoke comes billowing into the space.
I’m quick to pull my sleeve up, and I step out, gun in hand, already prepared for whatever the fuck is going down.
On the floor ahead, I can see one guard lying in a pool of blood. I can hear screams before they turn silent and for a moment, I fear it’s Paitlyn, that someone has killed her.
If they’ve done that, I don’t know what I’ll do. I can hardly tell Devin that she’s gone. I can hardly hide it either.
I rush through the carnage, it looks like a bomb has gone off, and a guard stumbles into me, with half his face hanging off.
He cries out, murmuring something I can’t understand, and I push him away, because he is not my priority.
Guthrie is lying face down, his massive bulk taking up half the corridor. He’s not moving which tells me that he’s dead, so I guess that extra five million won’t be his after all. I don’t bother looking for the girl, the new one, I don’t give a fuck if she’s alive or dead.
Ahead, movement catches my eyes. I can see figures, two men and something else being dragged along.
It’s them, it’s her. Fucking Paitlyn. Someone is either trying to help her or steal her.
I raise my gun, pulling the trigger and shoot right into the spine of the man on the left. He crumples, landing in a heap. The man on the right turns to face me, yanking that chain to force Paitlyn’s body into his as if she’s a human shield, as if I wouldn’t hurt her if it was necessary.
I let out a laugh, barely hesitating, before pulling the trigger once more.
He falls, pulling her down with him and she jerks, trying to get away as if this moment here is her opportunity for freedom.
“Not so fast,” I spit, yanking her up by her greasy hair.
She whimpers, and then her eyes go wide as she realises exactly who has her .
“Dev, Dev, Dev.”
With one hard blow I pistol whip her face with the handle of the gun, knocking one of her teeth out and sending a spurt of blood from her mouth.
“Keep my brother’s name out of your mouth, whore.” I snarl. As if she thinks she has a right to even speak it. In all honesty, I’m surprised she still has the mental capacity to even remember him, to remember any of it. You think she’d be smarter, though; you think she’d play dumb considering her past.
She sobs harder, shaking more violently in my grasp. “I need him.” She cries. “I have to tell him…”
I don’t wait to hear anymore. She can say all she wants, beg all she wants when she’s kneeling at his feet. I don’t need to witness it.
I wrap my hands around her throat, tightening enough to restrict her airflow. She jerks, she gasps, she claws at me with her jagged, broken nails like she believes this is the end. Like she’s convinced she’d have as pain-free and easy a death as mere strangulation.
When she passes out, I sling her over my shoulder, but as I turn back and truly see the carnage before me, I realise that she can’t stay here. She can’t stay in Oblivion.
Oh, she may have a life sentence, but it’s not technically official by Brethren standards. Guthrie and I did a deal behind closed doors, we came to an agreement to ensure nobody knew what happened that night. Though it benefitted Paitlyn, it spared her life, it wasn’t her I gave a damn about. It was my brother, Devin. I did it for him, I kept my mouth shut and hid the truth, risking my entire family’s destruction in the process.
As I stand here now, though, I wonder if the secret is out, if that skeleton is about to come crawling out of the closet. But surely not; surely, it’s too late for such a thing?
Hair prickles at the back of my neck. Consequences I long thought null and void seem to suddenly haunt me .
Someone got in, someone got a bomb past our security and very nearly got their hands on a very valuable bargaining chip. At the very least we have a breech. I’d be a damned fool to leave her here knowing that face.
With a snarl, I storm back up to my office, tossing the damned girl onto the floor where she lays, immobile, and still passed out.
When I left, my brother was here, fuck knows where he’s run off to in my absence.
“Conrad,” I growl as he picks up his phone.
“What is it?”
“I have a task for you.”
He sighs as if he has far more important things to do than aid his family.
“Get here.” I order. “I need you to watch over something for us.”
“Us?” he repeats, but I can hear his steps in the background as he’s clearly making his way.
I hang up, deciding that’s enough of a reply and when he walks in, he stops, staring at Paitlyn like she’s some sort of apparition.
“She’s—she’s alive?” he says in obvious surprise. “Does Devin know?”
“He knows.” I confirm. “And I need you to take her, hold her somewhere secure. Make sure the little whore is locked down and nobody can get to her.”
He frowns, meeting my gaze. “What the fuck is going on here?”
“Devin is coming home.” I state, just as she starts to stir. “He has a few chores to do and then he’s going to close this chapter once and for all.”
Conrad looks back at Paitlyn just as I do. She’s awake, wide eyed, staring from one of us to the other.
“I need—” She begins, but I’m quick to grab a handkerchief and ram it into her mouth. Every word past her lips is a lie. I won’t stand here and listen to it. Not after what she did. Not after the way she ruined our brother.
“I’ll sort it.” Conrad says walking over, slamming his fist hard enough into her face that she’s once more rendered unconscious.
Once he’s carried her out, I watch on the cameras, echoing their steps until he’s thrown her into the trunk of his car, and he’s sped off. Then I call the guards, ensuring that all the mess is cleared up.
I need to know who’s behind this, I need to know who exactly knows about Paitlyn and what the whore means to me and to my family.
But that’s going to take time. A lot of time. I need to cover my tracks, up my security detail. Technically, this is the second attack on Oblivion, if you count the Turner incident as one. Someone is playing silly buggers with me, and I’ll be damned if I’m caught in their bullshit.
I set my Dustin onto it, charging him with pulling all the footage, going back through every tiny detail until he finds who the culprit is.
When I get into my car, I turn the massage feature on my seat on and nod to the driver to take me home. Maybe my pet is ready to be more compliant, maybe she’s ready to behave. Either way, I know I’m going to have some fun.
For a few seconds I close my eyes, relishing the brief solitude and then I jolt as if I’ve fallen asleep for hours.
My hair prickles on my neck as if in warning—would someone be so bold as to attack me?
My car is part of a convoy. I have two up front and two behind. With guards armed to the teeth. If someone were to try it, they’d need a bloody armoured tank to be successful, but then, we’re the Brethren, getting our hands on such a thing is hardly a difficult task .
I clench my fists, contemplating my next move. If someone were merely looking to destabilise the Brethren, they wouldn’t just go for Oblivion. They’d do something far more reaching. Unless this was part of something bigger. Take out Oblivion, take out the University, remove all the structures that keep us in place and create total anarchy?
I narrow my eyes, almost revelling in the way my heart pumps in my chest at that notion. True, there would be carnage. True, there would be chaos. But the sheer fun of what that would create, I’m practically salivating at the notion of it. I feel like Nero, dancing in the flames, watching as Rome burns and delighting in the fear of all those pathetic people caught up in the ensuing inferno.
Maybe I should stir the pot myself, let it be known that Turner is on the way out. It would certainly be interesting to see who comes out of the woodwork and tries to make a bid for Chapter. And it would take the heat off me if someone does know what I did.
My lips quirk and before I can consider the reasons not to, I make a call, make an anonymous tip, knowing that long term it will play to my favour. Most men can’t deal with unpredictability, they can’t deal with the unknown. Most men like their safe little lives. But not me, I know how to thrive in pandemonium, how to harness it, how to turn chaos to my advantage.
As we pull into the drive, I take out my phone, connecting with the live feed. I’ve left Liliana alone. Left her to wallow for a few days. Having watched the footage of her interaction with Gabe after he cut her down, I have an idea brewing, only I need her recovered. I need her in better strength, before it can materialise.
But as the screen comes into focus, I realise exactly what I’m seeing and my whole body reacts.
She’s not alone. She’s not huddled up, pretending to be all defiant in the darkness.
No, someone is there with her. Someone is touching her .
“What the fuck?” I growl, before demanding my driver speed the fuck up.
I pull my gun out, giving an order for my security to do the same. Apparently, Oblivion isn’t the only place under attack today. Someone really is gunning for a fight.
On the screen, I can now see exactly who it is, and I realise that this is personal.
This is an intentional move against me.
They want a war? Then so be it.