“The famous O’Harra brothers,” said the man. “You may call me Mr. Pryce.”
Kian stormed forward. “What the hell did you do to our brother, you son of a bitch?”
There was a vicious cracking noise as one of the cops brought his nightstick down across Kian’s shoulders. He cried out and fell to his knees.
I immediately stepped forward to help but Sean caught my eye and shook his head, glancing behind me. I turned and looked. There was a cop behind each of us, nightsticks raised and ready.
Kian started to struggle to his feet but Pryce shook his head. “Down there is fine,” he said simply. And the cop behind Kian stepped forward a little to make sure he obeyed. Kian growled low in his throat but stayed where he was.
Pryce made us wait while he broke off a hunk of crisp bacon: the room was so quiet, we could hear it snap. He speared it, added a little buttery scrambled eggs and devoured the mouthful, watching us as he chewed. Christ, it looked good. I wasn’t sure if it was some psychological trick, making us watch him eat when we were hungry, but it was working: my mouth was watering at the thought of that crispy, salty bacon and the rich roast of the coffee smelled incredible. “Your brother’s been a great aid to me, over the years,” he said at last.
“You...changed him,” said Carrick. He was struggling to control his rage, too. The temptation to just leap across the table at the guy was almost too much to take. But with our hands cuffed, we wouldn’t even get one good punch in before the cops took us down.
Pryce drank some coffee before he answered. “He fought it. For a long time. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone fight it as hard as Bradan did. But you know the funny thing?” He took another sip. “When people break—and they do all break—the harder they fought it, the more completely they commit. Bradan is one of my most trusted people.”
My stomach twisted. I knew now who the hooded guy at the printing works had been. He would have killed us. And I nearly killed him! I glanced at Sean and saw the look on his face, the pleading in his eyes for it not to be true. That’s when it hit me: Bradan had set the fire, too. Louise. Kayley. Annabelle. He’d tried to kill them all.
He’d tried to kill Sylvie. Oh Christ. My own brother!
“You’re running it,” said Kian. “You’re running this whole thing. Why? We get that it’s not about being worshipped: people in the groups don’t even know who you are, do they? It’s not about money. So why? We know you have them doing stuff, lots of little tasks. What’s it all for?”
Pryce looked down at Kian and, for a second, a smile toyed with the edges of his lips. “This is the part where I tell you my entire plan, so you can foil it: right?”
Kian just glared at him.
“No,” said Pryce, as if telling a child he couldn’t have chocolate. “Even the people in this town don’t know that. They don’t need to. Only I do. Me…”—he glanced at the laptop—“and the ones who’ll come after me.” He waved at the cops. “Put them back in the cell. I’m done with them for now.”
The cops hauled Kian up but, as he reached his feet, he roared and tried to twist free. They pulled a nightstick tight against his throat, choking him, and he quieted. My hands bunched into fists, but there was nothing we could do, not cuffed as we were. “Just shoot us!” yelled Kian. “Get it over with!”
Pryce blinked at Kian. Then he gave a huge, wide grin: the smile of someone delighting in being able to deliver bad news. “You think I’m going to kill you? Oh Kian. You’re not as smart as they make you out to be, are you?”
Kian panted, chest heaving, and glared at him.
Pryce picked up his coffee and took a sip. “One O’Harra brother has been very useful to me. Think what I can do with five.”
It was as if the floor had opened up beneath me and I was falling into the unknown. What? I felt the same way I had when Rick had told me I’d have to fight Sylvie: it was a possibility I just hadn’t considered. I’d lain awake at night thinking about Sylvie being brainwashed by the cult, and Bradan...but me? Us?
Pryce looked right at me. “Your skills with your fists will be very useful. You’ll be a Prime, just like Bradan.”
A cold hand grabbed hold of my heart and squeezed. No! I tried to tell myself that I wouldn’t do it, that I’d never kill for them. I still had nightmares about Travere, the guy I’d killed in the ring years ago. But I’d seen what they did to Sylvie. They’d turn me into their attack dog, just like Bradan. I’d kill whoever they ordered me to: man, woman or child.
“You,” said Pryce, turning to Carrick. “You are going to let us expand into whole new areas. You’re our way into the MC world. First you, then your president—Mac, yes?” He grinned. “We’ll gradually spread through the chapters. Our own loyal, mobile army. The Hell’s Princes are going to be very useful: no one’s going to question it if a biker gets caught shooting someone, or shanking someone in jail.”
I watched as Carrick turned pale. I knew it was his greatest fear: that he’d betray the MC and corrupt it, turn it into a twisted version of the brotherhood he loved so much.
“Sean,” Pryce said, turning to him. “You’re the least useful. But we’ll find something for all that dumb muscle to do: we always need manual laborers.” He lifted his mug again, drained some coffee and smacked his lips in satisfaction. “But Louise? She’s going to provide a very valuable source of income.”
Sean went pale. “Louise?!”
Pryce grinned. “You thought we didn’t know about the drugs? We’ve learned all about you all in the last few days. I called my connections south of the border and they gave me all the details. Once you’re Insiders, we’ll move Louise somewhere she can grow serious amounts. We own plenty of empty buildings that can be turned into grow houses. There’s an underground bunker in Kansas, for example, that your brother is intimately familiar with. Within a year, I think she could be bringing in millions.” He paused and read Sean’s terrified expression. “Oh, don’t worry about Kayley.” He allowed Sean a few seconds of hope before he crushed it. “We can find plenty of uses for a teenage girl.”
Sean gave a howl of fury and ran at him. A nightstick cracked against his legs and he went sprawling sideways, yelling in pain.
Pryce gave us all a few seconds for things to sink in. The room went very quiet: all we could hear was our own slow panting as we stood there in helpless rage. Then he smiled at Kian. “But you,” he said. “You...are the ultimate prize. I couldn’t believe my luck, when I realized who’d stumbled into my lap.”
Kian had always been so strong. I’d never seen him waver. So when I saw him begin to crumble, it was truly terrifying.
“No,” he said, his voice hoarse.
“First,” said Pryce. “You’ll go back to DC and tell the President he’s wrong about Aeternus.”
Kian was silently shaking his head.
“Then—” said the man
“No!”
“—you’ll bring in Emily.”
“NO!”
“Very slowly. Very carefully. But you’ll bring her in. And once she’s in…” Pryce shook his head in awe. “Our own eyes and ears in the White House. Between the two of you, we’ll have influence over her father. It’ll be a new era.”
Kian gave a strangled cry and lunged forward but the cops grabbed him under the arms, hauling him back.
Carrick was sucking in air through his teeth, trying to control his anger. “Annabelle,” he said. “Sylvie. You don’t need them. Leave them alone.”
The man drained the last of his coffee and then shook his head. “We never leave partners or spouses behind. Too many questions. Sylvie already knows how to fight. We can teach her to kill. A female Prime could be very useful. And Annabelle? I got hold of her school reports. She has an astonishing mind. I’m sure we can find something for her.” He smiled. “Besides, it’s too late.”
We froze and stared at him.
“Oh, Emily will have to be handled very delicately. That could take months. But the others, at your
house? We’re taking care of them right now.”
52
Annabelle
“...and then he said?” Kayley was leaning forward across the table, eyes huge.
Sylvie flushed. I could tell she wasn’t used to this, wasn’t used to girly chats and sharing. But at the same time, she seemed to be loving it. “He said, you complete me.”
Kayley squeed, grabbed Sylvie’s hand and looked at the ring again. “You are so lucky,” she breathed. “I so need to find a guy like Aedan. Or Sean. Or—”
“No!” Sylvie, Louise and I all said together. We looked at each other and grinned, and Louise took charge. “You’re going to fall for a lawyer, or a doctor, or if you’re very lucky I might let you fall for a stockbroker,” she told her sister.
Kayley stuck her tongue out at her. “You should all be being nice to me.” She nodded towards Louise’s stomach. “You’re going to need help.”
Louise had told us a few minutes ago, blurting it out just after the men had left. Sylvie hadn’t had to tell us about the engagement because we’d all been eavesdropping from the kitchen. Only Kayley had missed it, hence the blow-by-blow.
“We’ll all help,” I said determinedly, even though I knew even less about babies than I did about plants. “Haywood Falls isn’t that far away. And the others can visit.”
Sylvie nodded eagerly. I got the feeling that, like me, she was liking being a part of something, here in LA. Neither of us wanted it to end, when the men returned and we went back to our normal lives.
“Thought about names, yet?” asked Sylvie.
Louise shook her head. “It wasn’t real, until I told Sean. Now...God, the baby’ll be here next summer!” She bit her lip. “What if—” She looked down at the table and went quiet for a few seconds. “What if something goes wrong? I mean, normally you never tell anyone until later on….”
Sylvie leaned across and rubbed her shoulder. “You’ll be fine! You needed to tell someone, what with….” She jerked her head behind her at the silent, empty house, and we all went quiet. With all of them gone.
That’s why we were all talking so hard about engagements and babies. They’d been gone all night: not a phone call or a text, nothing. It wasn’t even like we could call the police. If Aeternus had them….
I turned to Kayley. “Tell us more about this guy at school,” I said firmly. “Jarod?”
“I like him already,” said Sylvie. “Good name.”
“He’s in a band?” asked Louise.
Kayley grinned and leaned forward, loving having two new aunts. Three, if you counted Emily, who she’d already emailed three times.
We heard the front door unlock. All of us jumped up. They’re back! We hadn’t even heard the car pull up. We ran to the hallway. I could hear Alec running from the room upstairs where he’d been dozing: he’d kept watch all night and we’d only just persuaded him to finally take a nap. He was yelling, telling us to wait. “It’s okay,” I called as the door swung open. “It’s—”
I stumbled to a stop as we reached the hallway, the others crashing into me from behind.
It wasn’t them.
The first guy through the door wore a hooded top. I remembered the description the men had given of the guy at the printing works. Oh God…. Behind him were another four guys.
“Kayley!” yelled Louise. “Run upstairs!”
Sylvie snarled, ducked around me and launched herself at the guy in the hooded top. But he grabbed and threw her, using her momentum against her, and she went sailing through the air to land in the scorched, blackened living room. She landed awkwardly on her hip and gave a howl of pain. The guy stepped towards her—
And that’s when Alec, who’d jumped the last ten steps, landed on him with the force of two hundred pounds and a brother’s fury. Big as he was, the guy didn’t stand a chance. Alec rode him down to the floor and immediately started pounding him in the face. I could see the frustration boiling out of him. He hadn’t been here when Sylvie was taken. He hadn’t been here when the men were in trouble at the printing works. But he was here now. “That—is my sister—you fucking—fucking—” he snarled between punches.
Meanwhile, Louise and I had dived at the door and were attempting to force it closed. We’d nearly managed it when the three guys outside pushed forward, inching it open. We panted and strained, our sneakers squeaking on the polished floor. Kayley was frozen halfway up the stairs, looking back at us, torn between obeying Louise and helping us.
“Go!” yelled Louise. Kayley ran.
Sylvie struggled to her feet and ran to the door, limping a little. She threw her weight against it and we started to gain ground. Yes! Another foot and we could lock it. Six inches. Five—
All of my nerves exploded into fire. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t even feel my hands on the door, anymore. I didn’t know if I was still standing or if I was falling: there was no sensation at all other than raw burning, like every part of me was being pressed against a hot griddle.
I hit the floor. The most terrifying part was that I’d lost the ability to think. I could see the door being forced open and Louise and Sylvie being wrestled to the ground by the men. I could see the thin silver wires sticking out of my chest but I didn’t know what any of it meant.
Alec stood up and came to help, just in time for one of the men to raise a futuristic-looking pistol. There was a buzzing, clicking sound and Alec crashed to the floor. I realized he’d been Tasered, and that that’s what had happened to me. My mind slowly started to come back. One of the men must have reached around the door and fired blindly at whoever was pushing it closed. I was just lucid enough to think, thank God it wasn’t Louise.
I still couldn’t move. My nerves didn’t seem to be connected to anything. I watched as the men bound Louise and Sylvie’s wrists behind their backs with plastic zip ties. Then they did the same to me. When they’d finished, I was left lying on my side on the floor, my muscles too limp and weak to even roll over. One man went upstairs and, a few seconds later, I heard Kayley scream and the sounds of a struggle. Louise twisted and thrashed, her eyes locked on the top of the stairs.
The man in the hooded top finished zip-tying Alec, stood up and approached us. He was bleeding from his lip and a cut over one eye, but he didn’t seem angry or even shaken, just coldly efficient. I frowned. There was something in his face, something I recognized. “Take them to separate rooms and get started,” he told the others.
For a second, I had that instinctive fear, memories of Volos and the Blood Spiders and the auction. Then my stomach lurched. There was something even worse than that. I managed to twist enough to stare at Sylvie and saw her face go pale as she realized it, too. They were going to do to all of us what they’d done to her. I started to panic breathe, thinking of my mind being violated, being rewired so that I was just another happy, loyal cult member. No!
One of the men stretched out his leg and, using the point of his shoe on my cheek, turned my head to look up at him. “It’s not exactly ideal,” he said, looking down at me.
I realized what he meant. We know what they’re trying to do to us. It wasn’t like Sylvie, or the other people they initiated, who’d been unknowing lambs to the slaughter. We could resist. We could fight it. Maybe it won’t work.
Then the man in the hooded top crushed that faint hope. “Use a higher dose,” he told them. What was it about him? I’d never seen him before but I swore he looked familiar. “It’ll work. It’ll just take longer.”
And that’s when I finally saw it. The blue eyes. The black hair. The jaw line. If the American accent hadn’t fooled me, I would have seen it before. “Oh God,” I croaked. “Bradan?!”
His head snapped up. I was right. I heard the other girls give low gasps of horror.
Then one of the men threw me over his shoulder and I was carried upstairs.
53
Kian
We were back in the cell as if we’d never left. Only now, everything was different. Every time I thou
ght of what they were going to do to us, I wanted to rip the bars out of the wall with my bare hands. Every time I thought of what they were doing to the girls—what they were going to do to Emily—I wanted to throw up.
Emily. They were going to take everything she was, everything she stood for, and twist it. People trusted her. They knew she was one of the good guys. But now she’d whisper whatever they wanted her to in her father’s ear...and I’d help her.
I’d played a part in saving our country. Now I was going to help to destroy it.
I pressed my forehead against the cold metal bars and tried to shut out the noise. All morning, from down the hall, there’d been the bang of hammers and the scrape of cinderblocks as they were wrestled into position: Pryce had a few of the townsfolk working on the police station. It seemed to be going slow, with a lot of cursing, but I guess Pryce preferred slow progress to letting professional contractors—Outsiders—visit the town.
That bastard. He’d built his own little empire, a secret network spread out around the globe. Thousands of obedient civilians carrying out thousands of tiny tasks, all knitting together into a grand plan. He had a small army of Primes like Bradan, trained assassins. And he’d built himself the perfect fortress: a whole town utterly devoted to him, every citizen ready to kill to protect him. It was better than any amount of concrete and razor wire: no one was going to storm in here and start shooting women and children.
But what was his aim? I knew that the key to figuring it out was working out who Pryce was, where he’d come from. But I was too wound up to focus on the problem. And even if I could figure it out, the knowledge was useless unless we could escape.
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