Chapter 2
BECOMING BLOOD brOTHERS
Killian - Three years ago
Sweat glided down my temples, and stale air choked my lungs inside the thick black bag over my head. I stumbled through the darkness, my hands tied behind my back as a brother pushed me through a maze of tunnels.
“Keep going, Neophyte,” he snapped and shoved my shoulder.
I crashed into a wall, pain shooting through my head. Savage aches already tore my body apart after completing my task, which entailed dodging bullets and battling a whole fucking security team. So when the bastard laughed, I couldn’t fight my inner demons anymore.
Ignoring the throbbing against my skull, I rammed my head back and cracked him in the nose.
“Son of a bitch!”
My cruel laughter echoed through the stone catacombs. “Oops. I can’t see what I’m doing in this thing.”
Hard fingers dug into my nape as he directed me forward, and then he rammed his boot into the back of my knee so I slammed to the ground.
When the bag was yanked from my head, the secret atrium below the Sigma Delta house appeared.
A few other initiates kneeled in a line with me, most of them haggard, bloody, and bruised after returning from their given tasks.
Gas lanterns hung on the walls and dangled from the arched ceiling, spilling light through the gothic room reeking of sea salt, candle wax, and trepidation. A giant ebony fireplace boasted orange and blue flames, casting shadows around the nearby altar.
Members gathered in black robes and disturbing white masks, while a few of the Ascended sat in high-backed chairs on a stage, masks also shielding their identities. The current Domnus stepped forward, his ebony cloak with crimson trim swishing around his feet.
The scene looked like something torn from the pages of a medieval tale. But there were no chivalrous knights or heroes in this story.
“Is there a reason your mask is off and your nose is bleeding, Lord Sebastian?” The tall man could have been a cult leader with the sinister goat-skull mask peering from beneath his hood.
Actually, this secret sect really wasn’t much different from a cult. If I’d known the shit I had to do to gain entrance... I’d still do it. I never had much of a choice.
“This Neophyte headbutted me.” Sebastian—my stepbrother—gripped my sweaty hair, yanked my head back, and placed a knife to my neck. “He should be punished for his insubordination.”
Murmurs rippled through the room as knots fisted in my chest. Resisting the laws of the order would result in punishment or worse.
“What do you have to say for yourself, Neophyte?” The Domnus asked, his dark eyes glaring from the skull’s sockets.
I shrugged, the slight movement causing the blade at my throat to cut my flesh. A thin line of blood oozed out. “I tripped.”
Bass scoffed behind me and leaned down. “I’m the better liar, little bro.”
He had no idea how good a liar I was. Since realizing how much power this world could offer, I’d donned a layer of perfection and rarely let it drop.
The Domnus tilted his head toward my stepbrother. “Remove the knife, Lord Sebastian, but proceed with a suitable retribution.”
Bass’s twisted grin was more terrifying than the Domnus’s grotesque, horned mask. My stepbrother pulled the knife away and slammed his fist into my face so hard I crashed to the ground.
Pain burst through my jaw while stars popped across my vision. Fingers gripped my hair and jerked me up, another punch crushing my cheek. And then another.
Ringing filled my ears as a metallic tang spilled into my mouth, hot liquid dribbling down my chin. My bound hands pressed into the ground beneath me, scraping against the rough stone. Bass gripped my already torn shirt, poised for another hit when a powerful voice rang out.
“That’s enough.”
My stepbrother released me at the command of the visiting Grand Domnus. As the highest-ranking member in the entire order, he normally dealt with the graduated Lords—or the Ascended.
But this was a special initiation.
The Grand Domnus rose from the high-backed chair, carved from a piece of ancient oak, and walked to the end of the stage. His crimson robe flowed like a river of blood, and the ram-skull mask with ominous curling horns made the Domnus’s pale in comparison.
“The founding families weren’t just merchants and ship captains trying to build a town. They were men willing to do whatever it took to control the coast.” He received a golden goblet from a masked Lord. “Are you all willing to do the same as our ancestors?”
Murmurs of agreement circled from the kneeling Neophytes, and I caught Gage Van Horn’s dark gaze, one of the guys I started my initiation with, looking as if he’d rather stab a couple of members than prove his loyalty.
Axel, my roommate, remained still and obedient like the rest of us, rivulets of sweat dripping down his face. Slate Wentworth, kneeling on the end, wasn’t paying attention, zoned out and most likely daydreaming of hot sorority girls.
The Grand Domnus paced the dais, his robe drifting behind him. “Copper Cove wasn’t built on trade. It was built on blood.”
I had no doubt about that.
“When rival crews threatened their dominance, the founders didn’t negotiate.
They eliminated them. Quietly. Efficiently.
Bodies disappeared into the ocean. Ships vanished in the night.
” He stopped and stared at the contents of the cup like it held all the secrets of the order.
“The brotherhood wasn’t formed for protection.
It was formed to control who lived, who profited. .. and who disappeared.”
Chills raked down my spine, my blood cooling to subzero temperatures. If there was anything I believed about these men—the ones who formed the Serpents & Daggers, and the ones who ran it now—it was that they held all the power and they sure as fuck could make anyone disappear.
The Grand Domnus lifted the ram mask for barely a second to sip from the cup and then passed it to the closest Ascended sitting on the stage.
The intimidating figure in red stepped onto the stone floor and strolled toward us, an air of confidence around him that only came with being revered and worshiped.
“You are the last one to return, Neophyte Killian,” he said, his rich voice resonating against the rough-hewn stone walls. “Did you accomplish your task?”
Bass passed my leather satchel to the Grand Domnus. “It’s all there.”
“Yours was an especially tricky task, Neophyte Killian.” The Grand Domnus flipped through the documents I’d stolen from the congressman’s summer house. “But it looks as if you prevailed.”
“You got lucky, little bro,” Bass whispered. “Not sure if that luck will hold out.”
His words had frost spreading through my veins. Did he know what my last trial would be?
The Grand Domnus rested his hand on my shoulder and bent at the waist, the satisfaction in those familiar blue eyes making my spine snap straight. “I’m very proud of you, Killian. I’m so pleased to have both my sons with me.” Stanford Davenport lifted his mask for only a moment to reveal his smile.
My stepfather was a powerful man, but most had no idea how far his reach went. If you did, you’d better hope to be on his good side.
The Domnus strolled down the line of Neophytes, stopping in front of one that appeared on the verge of passing out. “You, Neophyte Parker, are the only one who didn’t complete his task.”
“I-I’m sorry. I just couldn’t.” He shook his head, sweat flying off the ends of his damp russet hair. “The girl didn’t fall for it.”
“It’s not my fault you couldn’t charm her into your bed.
You should have done whatever it took to ruin her and get it on video.
” The Domnus leaned forward, his horns hovering right over Parker’s forehead.
“You could have drugged her for all I care. Now, someone else will have to complete your task. And you will be released from this organization.”
Parker bowed forward, his body threatening to fold in on itself.
“Can all of you repeat our oath?” The Domnus asked, standing erect.
The ten of us recited the words drilled into our heads since we were first led through these catacombs.
“Our blood is from one cup. Our bones are from one beast. Our soul is from the same shadow. Brothers above all. We enter this world together. And we shall only leave with a dagger pressed against our throat and the serpent’s poison in our veins.”
“Perfect.” The Domnus’s gaze fell on me as shadows darkened the brown orbs to impenetrable holes. “Neophyte Killian, on your feet. I have your last trial.”
Bass jerked me up and shoved me toward the Domnus as acid churned my gut. I knew exactly what I’d have to face. My stepbrother sawed through the ropes on my wrists, freeing me, and then he slapped a dagger into my palm.
It seemed like everyone knew. Except for Parker.
“Do you understand your task, Neophyte?”
My fingers curled around the hilt, and I nodded. I didn’t have a choice in the matter. Any weakness or refusal on my part, and I’d suffer the same fate as Parker. “I understand.” As I turned to the disgraced Neophyte, confusion and fear swirled in his eyes.
He shook his head, and the blood drained from his cheeks as the realization finally hit him. “N-No. Let me try again. I swear, I can do it. Just give me another chance!”
Bass and another masked brother lifted Parker from the ground, holding him as he struggled. I allowed the monster within me to harden my resolve. This would be the first time I actively stole a life, but it wouldn’t be the last in a world like this.
Cruelty ruled here, barely hidden by the cloak of money and sophistication. It was a world I stumbled into when my mother met Stan. And now that I’d had a taste, nothing would rip me from it.
“You should have listened to the oath you swore. Then you would have seen this coming.” I lifted the knife and yanked it across Parker’s neck. Hot blood spurted out, spraying my face and spilling down his chest as he choked.
My stomach heaved while the life drained from him, but the darkness brewing inside me since I was a kid kept me strong amid these masked devils. I’d become ruthless and cold, my focus on the prize. Never would I let another person tear me apart.
Now I was one of them, a wolf among the sheep. And the world was at my fingertips.