Epilogue
John McNicol
“Thank you, Scott. Yes, I will be outside on deck, for a while. There’s some news I need to address.”
Scott inclines his head, subservient little man that he is, but he will have to do as my head of security for a few more days.
Ambling down the passageway to the door leading to the deck, I run through my options.
Beast will be hard to replace. Now, he was not subservient and that is what is required for a man to succeed.
Outside, with the door behind me shut, I squint as the sea wind blasts across my eyeballs.
The lights from Scilly show along the shoreline but the weather is rougher than predicted.
I can’t be out here long, staring at my navel, dwelling on the past, but I need this.
I need some clarity, some rebalancing before I return to the hurly burly of politics.
Never thought he’d go before me. Or that letting the girl live so he could watch her being hurt would be his undoing.
He should’ve let her die on the boat. Equally painful is how wrong we were.
The fake terrorism went under the radar, because someone stalled the release of the information long past its useful date.
I will need to find out who that was.
That no one has linked Beast’s death to me is a godsend.
I pull out my phone, leaning my back against the high handrail and the stanchion it attaches to.
This superyacht is superb and takes the waves well.
The message telling me of his passing was encrypted but it’s time to delete it entirely.
With my thumb poised to press delete, I exhale, thinking about everything we did together.
That life, that debauched part of me will have to stop. Sadly.
I tap the button.
An arm in black wetsuit material, reaches from behind and grabs my shirt. In one devastating motion, the diver hauls me over the handrail.
My mouth is open to scream a second too late for a heavy, gloved hand seals my mouth.
A splash engulfs us as we hit the water, and I’m struggling, fighting, lashing out. Just need to get loose and then I will swim to goddam shore if I have to, no matter how…
We sink further and another hand anchors itself to my wrist. I’m outnumbered—this is a second diver. A third appears before me riding a scuba sled. My hope for escape weakens, vanishes, as I realize how far I need to swim to reach the surface, and how thoroughly someone has planned this.
This is an assassination.
Why, I want to ask, except I know the answer.
Streams of bubbles escape upward and darkness creeps in as we continue sinking. Despite the small lights they switch on, the background becomes black.
Without a wetsuit, the cold is numbing.
I have to breathe. I have to. I clamp shut my mouth.
No. Fuck this. I won’t end here. No.
And yet, the inevitability of my death dawns on me. I resist. I resist, because how can I not, until the craving for air overcomes my willpower.
I suck in a huge lungful and cold water floods my lungs.
Eyes behind masks stare at me.
The hands release me.
The men, the dark swimming figures, fade and blur. Above, far above, moonlight gleams and shows a hull gliding silently past as I fall and twist slowly, into the depths, fathoms deep.
Queen O
I study the ones I summoned to this last-minute board meeting, going clockwise around this oval table—Claw, Reaper, Monster, Phantom.
“Welcome. This is not our usual venue, as you know, but circumstances have compelled us. I gather we have done what was needed?”
Claw answers. “Yes, it is done.” Her eagle mask looks hurriedly donned and a little askew. “This emergency is costing us billions not millions and the risk—”
“Is enormous. We know.” Monster leans back and clasps his hands on his stomach, and even with his green gargoyle mask shielding his face, I can tell he’s annoyed.
I am too. Killing one of ours is quite different from killing a member of parliament who is only affiliated with us because one of us was stupid.
I rap the table. “Good. I will not countenance any further grumbles. It’s done.
We accept this and this time…” I adopt a ferocious tenor as it is needed with these men and women.
“This is a full clean-up. We are rooting out any offenders. Termination is an option. Extreme termination if we find any. We will be vetting people rigorously before they become members. The CNC Fraternity will continue to be kinky as hell, but these illegal acts are done with. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” they answer in close to one voice.
I sit forward and smile. “Fantastic. Next issue is the venue for our winter ball. Paris? Or somewhere colder?”
The original His Keepsake, that was banned on , is also available there.
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Read onward for an excerpt from Wicked Ways
When the monsters can get inside your head…
Zorie:
Some people go through life without encountering evil.
Having survived a kidnapper as a teenager, I thought I was smarter and stronger, thought I would never be prey again.
Until I fell into the hands of the vilest of men – Reuben.
He feeds madness and lies into my mind.
Up becomes down, weapons fall from my hands, and escape seems impossible.
Grimm is my only lifeline, and I long to confide in him but the words stick in my throat, and my cries come out as silence…
Then Mr. Black contacts me.
He says he can help, but I’m afraid because he can control me like Reuben does.
What if he is worse than Reuben?