King of the Cage: A Dark Irish Mafia Romance (Devil’s Own)
King of the Cage: Chapter 16

I’d been halfway back from Hade Harbor when Declan called me. I’d been in Maine a few days, cleaning up the dregs of the motherfuckers who had introduced Z Juice to a small town. The only thing left of them was the blood under my fingernails and a letter of recommendation with a seal that the man who’d bargained his life for it had assured me was priceless. I’d killed him just after. I wasn’t a man of my word when it came to men like him.

In return, I’d found out more about the processes of the secret society operating right in the heart of the city than I’d ever wanted to know. The most sobering thing was how far-reaching the tendrils of the society went, considering it was even causing trouble in a small community like Hade Harbor.

When Declan called, I answered through my helmet, shooting down the I-95 on my motorcycle. He wouldn’t call for just any reason. It had to be important.

“What is it?” I snapped down the line urgently.

“Your little fiancée. I think she’s got herself into trouble again. She rushed out of the house and went somewhere in a taxi, an old hotel uptown. She looked — she looked scared.”

Giada Santori, scared? I couldn’t quite picture it. The very thought of it was wrong.

“What hotel?” I demanded. In questioning the guy from Hade Harbor, a member of The Enclave, he’d talked about a hotel in Manhattan where different kinds of ceremonies took place. I knew what Declan was going to say before he said it.

“The Tartarus.”

Fucking hell, selkie. Can’t you stay out of trouble for one second?

“I’m on my way,” I said, gunning the engine and putting my food down even harder.

It had taken me an hour to get to The Tartarus, when it should have taken three. Sneaking, stealing a costume, and tracking Giada down in the dark hotel had taken longer than it should have, as well. Everything would have been fine if she’d managed to get out of the window. Instead, we were being led down the darkly carpeted stairs to the lower level by cattle prod. I could fight our way out, assuming no one had a gun, which was a pretty big assumption to make. It was a risk I’d only take if I had no other choice.

“The Offering stays here,” one of the guys said and jerked his head toward an empty room. He waited, staring at Giada.

“That’s me, is it?” she snapped at him. My girl had fire for days.

The guy withdrew a long, wicked knife from a pocket in his pants. “Yes. You.”

I shouldered in front of him. “Hey, point that at someone your own size,” I growled.

Giada’s hand came to rest on my arm. “It’s fine. Go and see what this fiasco is all about. I’ll be right here. Waiting,” she murmured.

Before I could agree, she was bundled into the room and locked in alone. I could handle that. I’d prefer she was alone than with any of these guys.

“You heard the lady. Lead the way, gentlemen,” I quipped, using humor as a way to leash my urge to crack their heads together.

I was led to a room off the main hallway. I stepped inside, just as a hard thwack hit me in the stomach. I doubled over. Man, that was a heavy hit. From experience, I could tell it was a baseball bat. I landed on my knees, and my mask was ripped off.

Someone sank a hand into my hair and gripped my bun, yanking my head so far back I was forced to blink into the bright overhead lights.

“Buy me a drink before you pull my hair like that,” I wheezed, then fought to get my breath back. “I might get the wrong idea.”

“Who gave you the invitation?” a deep, modulated voice demanded.

I could hardly say Giada, since she wasn’t a member, either. The only name I had to drop was the guy I’d killed up in Maine, the one who’d written me a recommendation to bargain for his life.

I chuckled. “Duncan Fitzgerald, remember him?”

A pause ensued, and then that deep voice spoke again. “Fitzgerald gave you an invitation?”

“That’s not all he gave me. If you’d let me up, I’ll show you.” I coughed. That blow to the diaphragm smarted.

“Get him up.”

Strong arms lifted me, ramming under my armpits. They deposited me in a hard leather wingback chair, and my eyes appreciated the respite from the blinding lights.

The person sitting opposite me across the dark wood table was wearing a black bulky cloak and white plague doctor mask. He was flanked by men, all masked and anonymous. Those eerie, dark eyeholes stared down at me expressionlessly.

I fished the letter I still had in my pocket from Maine and my last encounter with Duncan Fitzgerald and placed it on the table. It appeared pretty official, if I did say so myself, with a red wax seal and even a thumbprint.

The person behind the table stared at it and then handed it to one of their lackeys. “Verify it.”

They turned their creepy beaked mask toward me.

“Tell me, Brandon O’Connor, how you ended up with a recommendation to take the tests to become a brother of The Enclave.”

“What can I say? I guess I’m just a fan of adult dress up parties. Any excuse for a mask and a cloak, am I right?” I grinned broadly at the man behind the desk.

“Funny. I’ve heard that about you. Funny and… not known for much else, except being a disappointment to your poor father.” There was an odd delay to the way this guy talked, like he was listening through an earpiece for what he was supposed to say. Interesting.

“I see we’re skipping the small talk portion of getting to know each other. Good, I’ve never cared for it. Since you know everything about me, how about you reciprocate? I’m all ears.”

“You can call me The Sentinel.”

I raised an eyebrow. “The Sentinel, or just Sentinel? Either way, I bet you really hate your parents for that one.”

He studied me, the mask concealing everything.

“I mean, it doesn’t really roll off the tongue, does it?” I asked, glancing around at the audience.

The silence was thick. They weren’t budging.

“Anyway, Sentinel, why have you brought me to this nifty little room instead of letting me continue on to the rest of your tests? Under your rules, or so good ol’ Duncan explained, as long as I have a recommendation, I can pledge.”

“We aren’t a fraternity,” The Sentinel snapped, a hint of annoyance bleeding through the modulated voice.

“If it walks like a duck… quack, quack,” I deadpanned.

The guy next to me sent the cattle prod cackling to life as a reminder to quit the wise-guy act.

I cleared my throat. “In all seriousness, this is exactly what I’m looking for. A way to make Daddy proud.”

The Sentinel was silent.

“I think I could achieve great things in this place, and for your members. I don’t see why I can’t test myself. I already caught the prize in the Hunt… didn’t I?”

“Your skills aren’t in question, nor your usefulness. What is in question is your ability to follow our rules.”

Follow their rules. I wanted to overturn the table and beat each of these power-tripping motherfuckers to a bloody pulp with their own masks. But I’d been assured that I’d never replace out about the drugs if I messed things up before they trusted me. I needed to play along to get access to the inner workings of this society.

“Are you saying that if I can follow them, I can become a member?”

“That depends on you. You have money. You have power. You have men to command. Honestly, you bring more to the table than a lot of our acolytes.”

I blinked at him, surprised it was so easy.

The Sentinel studied me. “You’re surprised.”

“When you’re always the kid picked last in gym, you keep your expectations low.” I gave him a grin, bullshitting my way through to buy more time to think. These crazy fuckers were really going to consider me. I was going to get into this twisted little group and burn it down from the inside, taking everyone who fucked with Quinn with me.

“You could benefit our members… someone with your areas of expertise, and… waste management capabilities.”

I let out a chuckle at that one. “You want me to bury the bodies for your rich boys? Sure, I can do that… for a price. I scratch their backs, they scratch mine. Isn’t that how it works in these kinds of places?”

The man nodded. “Indeed, it is. But there are trials to pass to reach such a trusted position. It’s not for everyone.”

“You think I don’t have the stomach for your tests? You have no idea about the things I’ve done and seen…”

“I believe you. I don’t have any doubt you could stomach the messier side of being a member. My concern, like I said, is if you can be trusted to follow the rules. The Enclave works because its members follow the rules. Without rules, we are animals. Can you follow the rules, O’Connor, or do you want to remain an animal?”

I stared at him, letting the tension mount before I grinned.

“I can follow the rules. Give me a chance to show you.”

I held the man’s gaze, aware that in some other room, someone powerful was deciding whether I’d get the chance.

The man nodded, after his usual delay to listen to the instructions.

“Very well. Tonight, you have that chance. You are the sole acolyte tonight to bring back a prize from the Hunt. Show us you can play nice with others and carry out the claiming.”

“What’s the claiming?” I wondered.

“You’ll see.”