Chapter 17
seventeen
Sheila only operates at night. She’s got her kids all day, is what she says. Perfect for me because I hate being out in the daylight. Plus, it makes sense, given her line of work.
Tugging my mask down after pulling off my helmet, I kick the stand on my blue Suzuki Boulevard and slip the key into my pocket. It’s a chilly October evening, but not enough for me to bother with a coat.
Sheila’s apartment building is fancier than I thought it would be, considering the chaotic life she leads. But it’s about to get a lot less hectic once she finishes her job and I wire her the money.
The streetlight glistens off the asphalt as I hurry toward the alley between her place and the Italian restaurant next door. My stomach squeezes at the smell of yeasty bread and tomato sauce. I should probably eat something.
Poor woman must be cold on a night like tonight, but she’s a pro and still wearing a tiny dress, her blonde hair perfectly curled and tucked under an umbrella.
“You’re Vanq?” she asks as I approach, likely looking like a robber with my hoodie and mask.
“Yeah.”
Her mauve lips purse as she looks me over, scrutinizing my clothes. She tilts her head. “You always make deals in person?”
“When I can.” I shrug. “This needs to be untraceable.”
If the society knew I had my own footage—real, uncut footage—of that fat fuck carving up his victims during Terror Tuesday? They’d silence me faster than they tried to do with Malik.
With a soft snort, she replies, “Honey, for the amount of money you promised? Believe me, no one will ever find out shit.”
“Good. Check your account for part one.”
“Right now?”
I nod, crossing my arms, glancing cautiously back over my shoulder toward the street. Cars pass slowly up ahead, the city’s noise a distant blur. I track each vehicle, alert for anything unusual or repetitive.
“Oh my god,” she breathes. “You’re serious. This is life changing. I won’t have to do this line of work anymore.”
“Yeah, so that’s just the first. You’ll get part two after completing the job and part three if it’s successful. Then retire. Take your kids some place else.”
She smiles. “Tommy wants to go to NU…”
Tommy’s a fucking moron.
“You got the date and time?” I ask, refocusing her attention.
“You said two Tuesday nights from now, right? Those are his usual dates with me. But I’ll take him to the restaurant at ten after he comes. Fucker is never late with that. Only issue will be if he hits me too hard that night.”
I grimace. Sure, I’d watch the piece of shit abuse women left and right at various functions, but hearing the details straight from his kept woman’s mouth? It makes me want to move the plan forward sooner.
Sheila’s tough as nails. Hopefully, this money will be enough so that she never has to entertain guys like him again. “You got it.”
Everything’s clicking neatly into place. Olivia’s next trial will be ready before she even knows what’s happening.
A cold whisper prickles down my spine just moments before a hooded figure steps out from an inset in the shadowed alley. Cloaked, unmistakably familiar, and dangerously unwelcome. He pauses beneath the nearest streetlamp, tilting his masked face toward me in silent mockery.
My feet are already moving toward him, but before I reach him, he pivots and strides swiftly toward the alley’s mouth. He stops suddenly, spinning around to point directly at me.
“Shit,” I hiss, my breath sharp in the frigid air. He brought company. A society enforcer steps into view behind the cloaked figure, suit impeccable, a gleaming amethyst Seven badge catching the glow of the streetlamp like a threat made of light. Gun raised, his eyes lock firmly onto me.
So much for discretion.
I spin on my heel without hesitation and sprint for my bike, Converse skidding over slick pavement.
Swinging onto the motorcycle, I fire up the engine, the roar splitting the quiet night.
Gravel sprays from beneath my tires as I accelerate sharply, horns blaring as I narrowly dodge passing traffic.
Burned rubber floods my nostrils. The cold air tastes like copper and speed.
One glance over my shoulder shows the enforcer racing toward a black SUV parked beneath the glowing neon of the restaurant’s OPEN sign.
Game fucking on.
Adrenaline surges as I weave expertly through traffic, dodging between slower-moving cars, taillights blurring into crimson streaks against the night. Wind whips violently around me, sharp and exhilarating, my heart slamming furiously against my ribs. This wasn’t part of the goddamn plan.
Headlights loom dangerously close in the side mirror as the SUV barrels relentlessly forward.
Gritting my teeth, I rev the throttle, leaning hard into a tight turn that sends sparks flying from beneath my shoes.
More horns blare, the roar of my bike echoing fiercely in my ears as buildings blur past, mere shadows in my peripheral vision.
A traffic light ahead flashes red, and the intersection floods with cars racing through from either direction.
I squeeze the throttle tighter, duck my head lower, and rocket forward, weaving between vehicles in a zigzag pattern that tenses every muscle and leaves my pulse hammering.
Behind me, the pursuing SUV tries to barrel through but becomes trapped, snarled in a pile-up of screeching brakes and honking horns.
Within five minutes, I’m on the open road, the city’s neon glare fading behind me. Countryside rolls past, open and dark, but solitude offers no relief—only clarity.
There’s only one reason they’d hunt me down tonight.
My note.
The worst thing a servant can do is disobey.
If an enforcer is already on me, it means the Seven aren’t bothering with warnings anymore. I’m marked. Dead man walking.
I could disappear—go dark—at least until Olivia is safe.
However…she’d be unprotected. Vulnerable. Alone.
With a muttered curse, I swerve around, heading straight back toward Delta house. A bitter laugh slips out beneath my breath. I just hope it isn’t Lex Lynx who gets the pleasure of taking me out. Bastard would savor it.
When I arrive at Delta Kappa Alpha, the damaged black SUV sits ominously in the driveway, headlights off and engine ticking quietly.
Slowly easing my Suzuki into my usual spot in the side garage, I stare at the SUV, weighing my options. I could leave. Return home to Gnarled Pine Hollow and hole up in the Von Dovish estate, letting my family’s security detail handle any society muscle stupid enough to approach.
And they’d hurt enough people I care about to get to me. No, I need to face this.
Masked, of course.
Slipping inside through the kitchen entrance, I follow muted conversation drifting from the Delta president’s office down the hall. Apollo’s voice, calm but edged with tension, echoes clearly.
“I assure you, he’s out on an errand,” Apollo’s saying firmly. “If you’d just inform the president, I’ll send him straight to you next week. Then we can all get some sleep at a decent hour. I have class early—”
“Do I look like I give a shit about your schedule, Mr. Griffin?” the enforcer growls, menace wrapping around every syllable. “You realize what happens to those who shield traitors?”
Apollo’s usually smooth voice stutters slightly. “Look, Mr. Earl, I told you, he’s not here—”
“Lying is an offense against the Seven. You want to take his place on Sin Sunday instead?”
My fists clench as Mr. Earl’s threat hangs heavily in the air. Apollo’s loyalty is admirable, but there’s no way in hell I’m letting him fall.
Stepping out of the shadows, I enter the room. “Guess you couldn’t find me.” They can’t see it, but I’m darting fire from my eyes behind my mask.
Apollo’s expression softens in relief, but quickly tightens with frustration. “Valen—”
Holding up my hand sharply, I cut him off. “He wasn’t lying. He didn’t know I’d returned.” I shift my attention squarely onto the thick man. “And you’re shit at spotting men in black with masks on, apparently. In any case, I surrender willingly. Leave Apollo out of this.”
The enforcer smirks, stepping closer as his jeweled badge gleams in the lamplight. His gaze gives me a once-over, lip curling. “You understand the consequences of disobedience, Von Dovish? Your punishment on Sin Sunday will be legendary.”
I’ve seen the consequences. Brandings. Lashings. Whippings. Rapes. Servicing the elders… Torture in the catacombs that people whisper about to keep from not following orders properly. I’m not going to do any of that.
Still, if he’s suggesting the senate ordered sentences in the cathedral? At least he’s not planning to murder me outright. Which means…they probably don’t know about the camera footage and this is all about Malik.
Keeping my tone even and my head high, I counter immediately, “Let me make amends another way. Give me an extra assignment—a difficult one, something that proves my allegiance—and we can skip the public spectacle.”
Mr. Earl narrows his already small eyes, sizing me up. Then, he pulls out his phone and video calls the man himself. “Sir? This one says he wants to do us another favor.”
The president answers the call, hands clasped coolly in front of him on the desk. His usual demeanor is calm and pleasant, even gives me a little smile as I linger in the background. Part of me wants to give him a small wave, but I refrain.
“Valen’s request intrigues me.” His voice is smooth, deceptively gentle. “He’s proven resourceful before. Perhaps he can indeed redeem himself from this mistake.”
My gut twists at the sly edge of amusement in his tone.
“You’ll accept any task given, Mr. Von Dovish?” the president asks pointedly, challenging me. “Without hesitation or complaint?”
Behind the mask, I lift my chin to accept the consequence of letting my prey go. “Yes.”
The grin he greets me with is slow and ruthless. “I’ll grant your request for West Tech Industries’ sake. We need your business…just as you need us. Consider yourself fortunate.”
I’m not sure that’s true. Gaining acceptance into Northview University feels less like an honor and more like entrapment. Once you’re in, you start collecting blackmailable offenses. And the only way to drop out? With a toe tag.
NU has one graduation requirement…
Survival.
The president takes a long while to respond, savoring the suspense, then leans closer, voice darkening.
“You should understand, Mr. Von Dovish, that your assignment won’t be easy.
Disappoint me again, and the society won’t waste time chasing you down, no matter which of your parents is on the board. Do we have an understanding?”
“Absolutely,” I reply coolly with a shrug.
President Harvey’s smile widens, dark eyes cold. “Excellent. The task will come when I feel you’re ready.”
With a sharp nod, Mr. Earl backs up a step, ending the call with disappointment painting his wrinkled face. In silence, he exits the room, and we hold our breaths until the beep of the alarm indicates he’s left the house.
Apollo exhales heavily, visible tension leaving his body. “What did you do?”
“I didn’t do what they asked.” My voice is firm. “I appreciate the stall. But next time, don’t put your neck out that far.”
Apollo offers a weary smile. “Next time? You’re planning on screwing up again?”
I let out a humorless laugh, rubbing the back of my neck. “Let’s say that if I do? They won’t have a chance to enforce the punishment.”
If they catch me, I’m not going quietly. I’ll take half the society with me. Guns blazing and secrets exposed with a kill switch.
He pauses, growing serious. “Whatever they throw at you, I’ll back your play. You understand me? Just bring me in.” His voice drops as his dark hair falls across his forehead. “Valen…let me in.”
I grip his shoulder briefly, gratitude clear in my eyes. “I don’t want you to pay for my sins.”
He doesn’t need to know about these things. It’s one reason I appreciate that he’s the leader and I’m just a member. I can get more accomplished without more eyes on me.
As I leave the office, uncertainty coils tight in my chest. I’ve bought some time, but at what cost? I know whatever assignment they give me will be hell. But at least Olivia remains protected.
For now.