Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
“Well, you know we’re a tight-knit group. Most members, with very few exceptions, you being among those, are born into The Society. Perhaps you should make more effort to integrate.”
“Perhaps.”
Jericho clears his throat.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t invite you to chastise you. I just, well, honestly,” he starts, looking around as if checking for spies hiding in the bushes before leaning forward, forearms on his knees. “Did you know most comings and goings from the IVI compound are recorded?” he asks, then holds his arms up, palms toward us. “For our members safety of course. Nothing sinister about it.”
“Of course,” Jericho says.
I swallow the last of my drink and hold my glass up to Reeves who refills it.
“As a Councilor of The Tribunal, I am privy to all security recordings. In fact, I have taken it upon myself to view them on a regular basis and my fellow Councilors have come to rely on me to do so.”
“Must get boring,” I say.
“On the contrary. Incredible the things people get up to when they don’t know they’re being observed.” His eyes narrow, and he momentarily drops the fake smile. “The night of the charity, there was an,” he pauses as if searching for the right word. “Unfortunate incident.” He turns his gaze to me. “I believe you may know something about that, Ezekiel?”
I raise my eyebrows in confusion. “Do enlighten me.”
He draws a deep breath in, picks up his whiskey and sips, then sets it down. He faces us squarely. “One of my men was found dead in a staff room.”
I pause for a beat, trying to muster up an expression of surprise. “Oh?”
“Bleeding out, to be more direct. Quite the mess.”
“We hadn’t heard anything,” I say. “Isn’t proper procedure to put the compound on lockdown in such a case? For everyone’s safety, of course.”
Irritation flares in his eyes. “I mentioned I’m the first to study footage.”
“You did,” Jericho says.
“Let me cut to the chase, gentlemen.” He studies both Jericho and I before turning his gaze squarely on me. “I know what you did, Ezekiel.”
I don’t say a word. Instead, I wait. I meant what I said to Blue. I’m not afraid of this monster because I, too, can be monstrous.
After a long beat, he relaxes back in his seat and smiles. “I owe you a debt of gratitude. That man was an imposter. A spy. You saved me the trouble.”
“I’m sorry, I’m not sure I’m following. If you think I’m somehow responsible for this man’s murder,” I emphasize the word. “Shouldn’t I be standing before The Tribunal.”
Jericho clears his throat, shifting in his seat.
Councilor Augustus’s eyes are locked on mine. “That wouldn’t serve either of us, Ezekiel, and I think you know that. You have something I want.” He turns his gaze from me to Jericho and back.
“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about. Jericho, do you know what the good Councilor is talking about?”
Jericho raises his eyebrows, shakes his head. “Not a clue.”
Augustus exhales, eyes hard. The French doors open, and a woman steps out onto the porch. I see her in my periphery. She stops, takes in the scene. Councilor Augustus’s eyes narrow before his mouth moves into that smile again. He stands, looks at the woman.
“Gentlemen, my wife, Ines.”
Jericho and I set our drinks down and stand to greet her. She’s still beautiful, something of the young woman from the photo still in her, but, apart from the years which Botox can only do so much to mask, there is a flatness in her red-rimmed eyes. A brokenness.
Councilor Augustus kisses her cheek and brushes a hand down her back. She visibly stiffens, lips tightening, and doesn’t quite meet our gazes.
“Ines. Don’t be rude.”
She swallows. Her smile comes a moment later as she steps forward and extends her hand.
“Jericho and Ezekiel St. James, dear.” She shakes each of our hands and I’m not sure what to make of her. What were the last twenty-five years of her life like? I have a feeling a man like Lucius Augustus does not so easily forgive. And when she turns to face her husband, I know I’m right.
Augustus watches us as we take in the open-back dress his wife is wearing. It cuts to the curve of her lower back. Her hair is swept high off her neck, and I get the feeling this is on purpose. His mark is burned into her skin, a black scar on alabaster skin. But that’s not all. She’s recently been lashed. No broken skin but a dozen or so thin red lines overlap older, white scars. By the looks of it, she’s been lashed regularly over many years.
I see Jericho’s hands fist.
Augustus smiles. Shifts his eyes to his wife. “Yes, Ines, you interrupted for a reason?”
“Our dinner guest is here.”
“Oh, wonderful. Go and greet him, darling.”