And he did it again! Just like Layla, to G this time. Colin hated that G was the beta, never showing the full respect the beta deserved. What was with this showy crap?
“Hello, Akira,” Colin finally said.
That voice. Deep and full of sexual energy. I’d fallen head over heels for it, been seduced by those tones, those dark eyes, and cheekbones, the way he slicked his black and gray hair back—so chic and cool. The dickheads at my school used to talk about him, a pack of randy teenage lads jealous of Colin and how he made the women drop their knickers just by him being him. He was their hero.
Pricks. But yeah, he’d managed to get my knickers off. Boy knickers! Ha! Me…his dirty secret. He could have any woman he wanted. He was the ultimate catch. But he’d had me, and I wasn’t a woman. He’d had me and used me and killed all the stars.
Dead stars.
On the inside, I shook him off. For now. Fuck him. There were more important things going on in the world right now. I didn’t need him polluting my head any more than he already did.
How the hell did I manage to end up so close to him again? This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. I’d got away, left him in the dusty past.
“Please, follow us,” Layla said. “We will escort you directly to the execution chamber.”
“You what?”
Colin chuckled. It was a mocking sound.
Yeah, laugh. I should cut your throat, wanker.
“Don’t worry, Akira.”
“Who said I was worried?” Damn. Couldn’t help but reply to the stupid cock.
He winked and turned his back on me.
Every muscle tensed. G had his hand on my spine again. I jumped, head snapping round to face him. The gold in his eyes was dominating the green. He wasn’t happy.
“Deep breaths, Aki.”
He was picking up something. I’d never told anyone about Colin apart from Mama Rita. Wasn’t something I went around announcing.
Dead stars…
I did take a deep breath, then followed Colin and Layla inside, passing the expensive art hanging on the frosted glass of the hallways until we reached a lift that went down into the bowels of this shit hole.
Put as much fancy crap on the walls, buff it so hard to keep that permanent icy gleam. But facts were facts.
You can’t polish a turd.
* * *
Deep underground, where no moon or sun could touch, was the execution chamber. All sentences were carried out here, a direct access tunnel linking to the main courts of justice in London. When I say direct, I mean through a series of security gates and barriers and all sorts of shit. The way in from the courts was, well, mega secure.
The elevator passed through a series of anti-magic screens (anti-magic being the powerful energy the SCU, and werewolves, used to contain supernatural threats and shut down uprisings). Next, some iron barriers opened up to let us through—a treat for elves if they ever tried to break in. Elves weren’t stupid enough to try it with iron involved. Then came more anti-magic barriers that opened up as we went down, finally coming to a stop between two massive sandstone pillars.
Pillars made up the whole of the amphitheater, the prayers marks of the tenshi carved into the stone in mega shiny gold. It looked ancient, like the Colosseum in Rome, but new at the same time. The electric lighting kind of killed the mood, along with the video screens in the viewing gallery I walked into.
The way down into the main chamber was locked—a heavy iron door on my left.
A werewolf guy sat recording what was going on at the heart of this place. On the monitor was my dad, sitting on a golden throne that rested on a stone podium, looking slick and killer. Proper fresh geezer. With him were two wolves, standing either side of him.
A guillotine had been erected on the big circular stage area, a human man bent over it, lit up by a spotlight.
“Just in time for part one,” Colin said.
This wasn’t the theater of fucking dreams. No way.
The guillotine came down. A clean cut, head dropping into the basket. Blood spurted all over the stage.
Colin was watching. Dick. What did he think I was gonna do? Cry my little fucking eyes out like back in the day when I met the end of his fists?
No. Fuck him!
“Is that the terrorist guy?” I asked.
“Correct, Akira.”
This case had been going on over the past seven days. The guy had been caught by the SCU outside Hyde Park with a homemade bomb. His plan was to blow up the walls and free the mazoku trapped there. Normally, that wouldn’t work, but there’d been some deadly traces of silver inside the bomb, as well as rolled-up parchment with warlock scrawl all over it. That meant the possibility of damaging the walls had gone up. Even if it’d failed to breach the walls, the explosion would’ve killed the SCU and wolf guards around the prison, and poison the wolves it didn’t kill with silver debris.
A terrorist. A human terrorist with a warlock buddy now in custody after the human grassed the geezer up, thinking he’d save his own life. Nope. Not how it worked. You fuck with the wolves, you fuck yourself. Hard. And not in the fun way.
The minions down on the stage were quick. They had the guillotine gone real quick. Now they were setting up a metal pole with a small ledge for standing on, and some kindling along the bottom of it, heavy-duty chains hanging around the center of the pointed metal. No ordinary metal was being used. The chains and the pole had some anti-magical juice in them so they wouldn’t melt or anything during burning.
A beep and my dad’s voice filled the room. “Is my son here?” he asked in Japanese.
“Yes, sir. He’s with us now,” Colin answered.
“Come down, Akira. Alone.”
Not like I hadn’t been down there before. Colin and Layla opened the door. I gave G a quick nod and stepped through.
The door slammed closed behind me.
Never thought I’d see this place again. That’d been the plan. Hated this place. Creepy and always stank of blood. And it was always too cold.
I made my way down the set of concrete stairs that lead down to the podium where my dad’s golden throne sat, my heart pounding fast with each step, not wanting to see his face. Not ready.
Swallow the anger. Your day will come…
I had to stop. Just for a few seconds before I started roaring, charging down to confront the bastard.
When were you gonna tell me I had a brother?
Deep breaths.
I carried on, passing two guards I didn’t look at. There were loads of them spread around the amphitheater, watching everything, ready to pounce if their master was threatened.
Coming to the front of the podium, I was face to face with my dad.
I bowed. “Father.”
“Hello, Akira. Thank you for coming.”
Stick your pleasantries up your arse! “Hello.”
His dark eyes made me bite the insides of my cheeks. He didn’t smile, just watched me.
“I heard what happened on Holloway Road.”
“Yeah. Horrible.”
“I have the SCU and some wolves on a trail. We can only hope it is fruitful this time.”
Don’t hope too hard. “Yes, father.”
“To the tenshi, we pray for success.”
“Praise them.”
The circle stage area had four tunnels, all gated and locked apart from one. Two minions came running out of it, carrying another chair. They plonked it beside my dad, bowing as they backed off, then hurried back into the tunnel.
It wasn’t a gold chair, and not as fancy as the one my dad was perched on. It was black and worn. Not the posh china—so to speak.
“Sit, my son.”
I did as I was told.
Too close. I didn’t want to be this close to him.
I straightened up, rocking some decent posture, and kept my eyes forward. He’d like that. I mean, what the fuck would he do with me looking him in the eye for too long? What would I do? Crumble at the fi
rst hurdle, that’s what. This whole thing was gonna test my endurance hardcore.
“How are you?” he asked.
“Dusty.”
“I can see that. But your health? How is it?”
My health? For real? “Good, thank you. Yours?”
“I cannot complain.”
The pyre was almost finished.
“How’s Sarah?” I watched the finishing touches being made to the kindling.
I wanted out of here.
“Very well, thank you for asking.”
“Not long to go now.”
“Quite, son. A few weeks, and you will meet your sibling.”
New sibling would’ve been accurate, but I didn’t go there. Yet. “Cool.”
“I wanted to talk to you about your hunting work.”
“What about it?”
“The time has come for you to hang up your katanas while the situation remains as it is. I can cover your rent for you while you remain here.”
Oh, shite! “What did you say?”
“I’d like you to live here, at The Spire.”
“No.” I turned to face him. “No, Dad. I’m not living here. I have a life.”
“What a life it has become.”
I gripped the arms of the chair, biting my tongue.
“There is no request here, son,” he added. “This is an order.”
“I can’t—
He turned to face me. “You will do as you’re bid. I value your safety.”
I wanted to puke. This wasn’t happening. “Dad—”
He lifted a hand to silence me—the one with his gold wedding band signifying his new family on it. “We will continue this conversation in a moment.”
Why did he string me along? Why couldn’t he move on with his new life? Forget me, cut whatever strings were holding us together still.
What was I saying? I didn’t want him to, not yet. He had to face his past, know that I knew about Zach, that the wolf was out of the fucking bag.
I had to keep cool.
Time for a pause in our father and son chat. There was a prisoner to execute.
Guards dragged a man in rags from the tunnel over to the pyre. His bloodied feet dragged across the ground, his head titled our way. Through the torn gray rags, his pale skin was black and blue, and I caught black, puffy eyes. He was gagged, shackled, and so broken.
“Dad—”
“You will watch, Akira.”
He used to make me watch executions when I was younger, to ‘make a man of me’—toxic parenting. Watch enough of it, I’d suddenly want all the girls and never stand any chance of being gay. Yeah, that worked. Just made me used to death and violence—handy for my profession.
The warlock was chained to the pole, the gag pulled out of his mouth.
“You may burn me, wolf, but your end is coming!”
Considering the state of him, the geezer sounded on the strong side. Had to admire his attitude to go down in a blaze of glory.
I didn’t wanna watch this.
“Daniel Jones,” my father said, “you have been sentenced to death for terrorism, for treason. The flames will take you, as befitting your warlock station.” A pause. “Begin.”
Minions appeared with flaming torches. The standard way of snuffing out a witch or a warlock was by fire. They could die in other ways, but everyone seemed to think that was the only way to destroy the magic completely. Now, I didn’t know much about magic, only the basics and stuff I picked up along the way from peeps more in the know than me. But I knew that this warlock could have died just as easily any other way—quicker, less horrific ways. Still, he was a terrorist. I guess that’s the way the cookie had to crumble.
Soon, I’d be home making my own cookies. At home. The battle for my freedom was about to begin. Well, once this warlock was toasted.
* * *
My dickhead dad made me stay for the whole grim show of the poor bastard burning to death. Not that I had sympathy for terrorists, but fucking hell, that ain’t no way to leave this life.
“I would like you to join me for lunch, son,” my dad announced.
Another order. He didn’t do requests. “Fine. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”
“Sarah will be joining us.”
“Okay.” I stuffed my hands in my pockets. “You know I can’t stay here.”
“Akira, I want you to go and make yourself clean. I have had your old bedroom redecorated and provided you with some fresh clothes.”
“What?”
“You can clean up there. I will send for you once the food is served. I cannot allow you to be in contact with my wife covered in grime.”
What was I supposed to say? Not like I could do a runner right now. I had to play along, argue my case, and then get the hell out of here.
Plus, I was feeling pretty grim. “Fine.”
“I think the word you’re looking for is ‘thank you.’”
Don’t clench your teeth. “Thank you, Father.”
“You are most welcome, my son. I think you will find the clothes fit perfectly.” My father clicked his fingers, and a minion, a woman human servant in a black suit, led me to the lift that went up to the residential quarters.
* * *
For a minute, I couldn’t breathe, trapped again in my old bedroom high up in The Spire.
The glass walls weren’t backlit blue anymore, but white, and the carpet was a biscuit brown. My single bed was gone, replaced with a massive four-poster with white drapes and a shit load of white pillows.
All traces of me had been removed, my blue drawers covered in stickers gone, pine ones in their place, a vase of lilies sitting there, their fragrance filling the room.
Gross. I hated lilies.
The en suite bathroom was new too—white and chrome, not the green of my childhood. The bath was gone, now only a big glass cubicle with a square shower head bigger than my face.
“Great,” I said aloud.
At least the view was pretty cool from the window, even if I could see the dark tower of Canary Wharf from here in the distance—that reminder of the devastation caused by the almost-apocalypse.
Would something happen with Canary Wharf in these messed up days? Was that coming? Were we finally gonna see the protection fail and get a big dose of some mega nasty that lived in that shadowy place? Things were always trying to get out, the barrier flashing now and again.
Wasn’t fun to think about.
Inside the pine wardrobe was a navy suit, white shirt, navy tie, and black shoes polished to the max. Totally not me. Suits and me didn’t mix. Nope. But they were clean, and I still had to play the game.
I pulled off my katana holder, jacket, and T-shirt. Yeah, I was a bit pongy. My awesome deodorant had let me down today.
A rummage through the drawers revealed that underwear and socks had also been provided, along with a bag of toiletries.
A knock at the door. Without thinking, breaking every hunter rule, I opened it.
“Now that’s a sight for sore eyes.”
Colin. Oh, fuck.
“What do you want?” I asked, hand on the door, ready to slam it in the wanker’s face.
“Just wanted to see how you’re doing.” His smile revealed his perfectly white teeth.
I wanted to break every single one of them. “Fine. See ya.”
“Wait.” He stopped the door as I went to close it.
“I’ve got zero to say to you, bruv.”
“Bruv?” He chuckled. “I always loathed you saying that.”
Once upon a time, his musky cologne would drive me wild. Now, it made me wanna hurl. “Cool. We done?”
“No.” His dark eyes were moving shadows. “We’re not done.”
“I feel done.”
“Can I come in?”
“Er, no.”
“I want to talk to you.”
“Don’t wanna listen, thanks.”
“I miss you.”
Soft voice, charm, all the pain. “I don�
��t miss you.”
“I know I fucked up, Akira. But I hate this animosity between us.”
“Oh. How the hell did you even notice when we hadn’t seen each other in like six years? A few run-ins don’t mean a thing, bruv.”
My determination to be all puffed up and ‘hell yeah’ was fading. This fucking bloke knew how to make me wobble.
His eyes roamed down my bare chest. “Remember how I used to kiss you there?” He pointed at my stomach. “How it used to make you laugh when I stuck my tongue in your belly button. You loved it. Don’t you miss it, Akira?” He added some deeper oomph to my name.
He had me trembling in a bad way. A distant longing I wanted to punch myself for washed over me, toxic and lingering. Dickhead number one: Akira Murakami! I wanted to cut off his head and puke at the same time.
“No,” I said.
“You don’t?”
“No.”
“Tease. You opened the door half-naked on purpose.”
“I didn’t know it was you.”
There was the angry face I knew well. “Who were you expecting? Gabriel? Ah, is that it? Fucking the bodyguard?”
“No. Even if I was—”
“He’ll never be me.”
“I’m not—”
“Oh, Daddy. Yes, Daddy. Deeper, Daddy. Fuck me, Daddy. Does he make you sing like that?”
That was you! You wanted me to call you daddy, you piece of shit! This was too much. Every time this prick showed his face, he had me in knots. How the hell was I supposed to live here with him? He lived here too, never using his other place in the city. These were much better digs. When he found out I was moving back in…
No. Wasn’t happening. I was gonna be slamming both feet down.
My heart was racing. “Leave me alone.”
“We’re going to be seeing a lot more each other.” Ah, so he did already know. “Why can’t we be friends?”
After everything, after this moment? “Leave me alone.” My legs were full of lead, and it was spreading through my body. I needed to slam this door hard, not see his face, get my shit together. But I was glued to the spot, rattled, and not as tough as I wished I could be.
Four Moons: The Complete Collection: (Books 1 - 4) Page 26