31. Phoenix
Phoenix
The assembly room is full. Prez called everybody in for a membership meeting. All the old-timers and guys who are barely active in the club anymore are here. It’s standing room only. Zephyr and I squish together toward the head of the table, standing behind Lazarus’s chair.
When the room is quiet, Revenant sits at the head of the table.
He dives right into the problem at hand.
“I’m sorry for calling you all in, but there are major updates to what we know.
I’ve spent all night calling members of the mother chapter, and this was the best and most secure way to get the information across. ”
A couple of grumbles sound, and whispers of nervous energy fill the room. The collective shadows arching up darken the room protectively. It’s nearly contagious. My hackles rise with the tension of it all.
“We have reason to believe that Sphinx is alive and held captive by a religious organization called House of Apostles. They’re a monotheistic group that, until recent history, was peaceful. We think they’ve recently gotten themselves into omega smuggling, and they’re currently harboring omegas.”
Voices rise, cutting Revenant off from sharing more details.
The room takes over. Full-on conversations erupt, and each carries a new weight of what this means and how we’ll move forward.
I try to listen to some but get lost with the number of voices talking. Everyone has something to say. What is going on?
Because of our connection to Lazarus, who’s part of the inner circle, this isn’t necessarily new news. Hearing it in context with other members gets my blood pumping and my heart beating a little faster. The tension rises another notch in the room.
It feels like everyone is itching to do something, anything, to get Sphinx back and rescue the other omegas. I could storm out of here right now with everyone else if the direction was there.
Revenant clears his throat, and silence trickles through the club, but a few stray murmurs rumble through.
“We’ve done a scouting mission to the House of Apostles’s last known location.
Unfortunately, they’ve vacated. Voyagers have taken over the compound and are guarding it, discreetly, with hopes that the House of Apostles come back for any number of reasons. ”
“We need to send a team back to comb over the place and look for anything that may have been left behind and might be useful.” Mayhem, who sits next to Rev, picks up where he left off. “Do we have any volunteers?”
A couple hands go up in the room, but not Zephyr and me. If Prez wants us to go, then he’ll give us direct instructions. We don’t volunteer for more work unnecessarily, especially not now that we have Honey to protect.
“So, what’s this about an omega that just walked into our club?” one of the old-timers calls from the far back corner of the room. “She tied up in all this?”
I hold back a growl. No one gets to talk about Honey. She’s ours. She’s not for them to worry about.
“Yes,” Revenant answers, not elaborating.
I hope that’s the end of it. That he’s shutting the conversation down. But more chatter takes over the room, and shadows darken the lamp hanging above the table.
“Stop,” Rev growls, and the room falls silent.
“The reason I called you all here is that we need to cast a wide net to figure out where the House of Apostles went. A group of people, harboring stolen omegas, can’t simply just up and leave.
They’ve been off grid for a long time, and we don’t know where they went.
All we have to go on is that they might have Sphinx with them.
I’m asking all of you to take on as many runs and drives as you possibly can to various parts of the county — and surrounding ones from the central location we’ve identified.
Find information about where they may have gone.
There could be as many as forty alphas and an equal number of omegas.
That is, if they haven’t split up into smaller factions. ”
No one in the room balks at the call to arms. We’ve had difficult assignments before, and now, closer than ever to our end goal, we’ll all be expected to work hard. Everyone wants to work hard for this.
The idea of leaving Honey home while we’re out on the road spoils my stomach. I don’t want to leave her behind.
“You’ll each need to get with me to figure out an area you’ll cover and when. It’ll be subject to change if we discover new information. This is a beast all on its own. Every single chapter and voyager is participating.” Mayhem interjects, drumming his fingers against the table.
As club vice president, it’s his duty to manage the members directly, so it’s no surprise he’s handing out battle strategies.
“Remember, this isn’t just about missing omegas. This is about finding one of our own.” Revenant’s voice is deathly serious. He levels the table with his gaze, looking around at each of us, one at a time, locking eyes with each member. When it’s my turn, I look away first out of respect.
Is it possible for anyone to forget that his sister, a full-fledged member of the club, is an omega lost to trafficking? Can anyone put that behind them when they think about what we do? But . . . they must be able to because more whispers fly around the room, and one voice catches my attention.
“Why did they let an omega patch?”
Maybe that voice wasn’t so quiet because after it’s said, the room falls silent. I clench with the anticipation of what’ll come.
“Care to repeat that louder?” Revenant growls.
Shadows flood backward away from him, and the light from above the table glows brighter and practically becomes a beacon around the speaker.
“N-no. I just meant someone so valuable, goes missing. Makes yo . . .” Wisely, the club member, some guy whose name I don’t remember, shuts up.
He’s not a member who is around a lot, just does his minimum number of hours, and comes in when he needs some extra cash.
Something tells me that’s about to change. While I don’t think Revenant would ever kill a member of the club lightly . . . Fox most definitely would, and he wouldn’t get caught doing it either.
I look at Zephyr, and he quirks an eyebrow. I look down at his phone, and he’s typed out a message.
“I’d bet you a week’s worth of work in the garage that he’s dead by the end of the week.”
I shake my head, not stupid enough to take that bet. If I’m thinking it, we’re all thinking it. That guy is a goner. Good riddance.