Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
BOSTON
Tonight is an event for the wives of the Forsaken Society.
We don’t have these events all that often, but when we do, they serve a purpose: to keep the members happy and united.
Obviously, tonight will be the first time I’ll be attending.
I’ll be walking in with Maven on my arm, and the ring currently in my pocket on my finger.
Even if she refuses to go, I’ll fucking carry her in.
Victor texts me to say he’ll be in the city for the next hunt, which means he is considering becoming a member.
“Someone is taking out our members,” Soren says. Arlo nods, and Reon just sits there, not even caring. “Two members have been killed within less than two months of each other,” he adds. “It can’t be a coincidence.”
All eyes turn to me. The bar we’re in is closed, but a bartender is here to serve us. Though he’s waiting out back as we talk.
“Any leads?” Reon finally talks.
“I’m onto something,” I reply noncommittally.
I don’t plan to tell them I have the killer.
Or the fact that she’s my wife. I had considered telling them during this meeting, then figured I would wait until the event.
But I also won’t lie to them and tell them I don’t know who it is, because I want to protect her, which is funny, given what she is capable of.
“Victor is in,” I tell them.
Soren smiles, happy with the news, and Arlo says, “Victor, as in fucking skin-your-body, crazy Victor?”
“Yes.” No point denying how crazy he is.
“Can he be trusted?” Reon asks.
“Yes,” Soren and I say at the same time Arlo barks, “No.”
“I’ve worked with clients like him. He is not to be trusted,” Arlo explains.
“He is, and you will all play nice,” Soren warns, then looks at me. “He’ll be here for the next hunt?”
“Yes.”
“So, Las Vegas went well, then?” he prods, but the way he’s looking at me, it’s as if he’s waiting for me to say something further.
“It did.”
“Will he be coming to the event tonight?” Arlo asks.
“No, Victor isn’t married,” I answer.
“It’s more likely he’d kill a lover than marry her. If he even has lovers, that is,” Soren says.
None of us say anything because it’s true.
We’re well aware of what type of person Victor is.
He isn’t like the rest of us, who all have high-profile careers.
Victor never had to work a day in his life because he comes from money.
His father was some major figure in the oil business.
And when he died, everything he owned went to Victor.
Victor, not having any interest in being an oilman, went into bodies, which I’m sure didn’t please the rest of his family.
I know all about him and his family from the research I’ve done on him. And I would like to say I know him a little better than the others at this table.
Soren stands, nodding to the bartender who just walked in, then turns for the exit.
Soren used to be the last person to leave events, but now he’s always trying to get back to his wife, the reporter.
She was working on a story about him, but he somehow ended up falling for her instead of killing her.
I guess, in a way, he killed the story instead.
“See you three tonight,” he says over his shoulder. Reon stands next, leaving me sitting with Arlo, who is studying me. Always fucking trying to pick his way into people’s thoughts.
“What aren’t you telling us?” he asks.
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re hiding something.” This is why he gets paid the big dollars, because he’s always fucking reading people.
I stand and throw some money on the table for the bartender.
“Fuck off, Arlo,” I say, and turn to leave.
He laughs, and if I didn’t respect him so much, I would smash his face into the table.