by C. Lymari
“Please kill me. Kill me now before my master comes back,” the girl begged.
Daphne looked at her with anger in her eyes, but it wasn’t directed at her but at her master.
“Clock her,” she demanded. Then she turned around and climbed out of the window.
I did as she asked, knowing that the girl going into hysteria was a liability. When the girl went down, I threw her over my shoulder and climbed out. Daphne wasn’t in the gardens, but then I heard it the gunshots to the windows. She was causing chaos, ensuring we could all slip out with the mayhem.
That night in a safe house, Daphne showed me how thankful she was. It wasn’t until much later on that I realized she didn’t let me see her body again.
One Year Later
Location: Moscow
Rule number one in espionage: never let people see your true face. Once they know you, they could decipher your every move. I liked to think I was a master of deception. Not much rattled me anymore. As I grew older, I got colder, losing a bit of humanity along the way.
If there had ever been a doubt in my mind that training Bastian had been a failure, he’d just proved himself today. The oil prince had bigger balls than I thought.
Like all organizations, Sekten had its headquarters, but you could only access them once you were a full member and you had pledged your allegiance to them. The place the Sekten called home held more secrets, and some of the wonders of the world.
So this building was the next best thing when it came to conduct business meetings with civilians. It was where people of high power could request meetings, making things a little more formal and official for them. You know, so they would get to keep some peace of mind and pretend they weren’t messing with terrorists.
How life had changed since my brief time in Chicago. Bas had become a member and was the reason I knew about this meeting. I also had one of the four relics I had been hunting, but the most important thing was that I didn’t fear Damian anymore.
The building wasn’t huge, but it was wide, with black windows and maximum security. I mean, we were all killers with charm, so whoever was stupid enough to come prodding got what they deserved. If the guards looked surprised to see me, they didn’t show it.
In the last year, I had taken the jobs no one wanted. It kept me away for longer, and I got sick satisfaction coming back from a deadly mission and smirking in Damian’s face, proving that I was far from weak. He might have been lenient with the Yoro fiasco and given me a few years of freedom, but I would be returning back to him sooner rather than later.
The doors to the meeting room were closed, but I put my code in and waltzed right in. No one would make me feel like I hadn’t earned my seat at the table. Like I hadn’t bled and kneeled for this organization. I had paid the price for this more than anyone.
“Looks like someone forgot to tell me about this little meeting,” I said in a sweet voice as I strutted toward the big oval table that was in the middle of the room. There were no windows, and the only other thing was a large monitor behind Damian.
Damian spoke in a lazy tone. “It was my understanding you couldn’t make it. Your vote was by proxy.”
I smiled. If Damian wanted to play, I would entertain him. I smiled at him, my eyes looking at him and ignoring everyone else at the oval table. He tried to assert his authority over me, but it wouldn’t work—not anymore. Men played dirty when they feared women. They couldn’t take the fact that a queen would always trump a king.
“Pray tell, who gave my vote?” I raised a brow.
“I did,” the whiny voice came from across the room. It was Johnny, a member who had been here for a while. He’d auditioned at a time when his country was beneficial to us. If he were to do it in this day and age, he would have been denied. He’d always wanted a piece of me, but what a shame when a whore turned him down.
“That’s funny. I don’t remember giving you my proxy.” I didn’t glare at him, just stared into his eyes.
“It’s just a formality. Not everyone should have a voice,” Francesca said from where she was seated next to Damian. I hated her with her model frame, tan skin, and brunette locks. She had the perfect upbringing, but she was just evil. She enjoyed the hunt; she’d chosen this life, and not the other way around. She came here trying to become the queen of the Sekten. She thought just because she spread her legs for Damian, she deserved a crown.
I didn’t answer her. My eyes met Bastian’s from across the room, and he looked at me with awe. He was proud, and his support meant the world to me. He was more family to me than my own flesh and blood had been.
I was never good at playing politics, and I wasn’t about to start now. I pulled a throwing star from behind my back and aimed it at Johnny’s head. The star blade was a beauty in the air. As soon as I threw it, I smiled. He didn’t expect it, no one did, for who would be crazy enough to kill at a meeting? And a member at that. Johnny’s head rolled back, blood oozing from his forehead and his lifeless eyes staring at the ceiling.
“Since he gave my vote, I guess it’s only fair I get his.” I shrugged it as if Johnny had been an inconvenience and this hadn’t been Damian’s doing.
I turned to look at him, and his face was perfectly controlled, stoic even, but I knew he was fuming behind his calm façade. He despised me, but I knew him—and he didn’t know me.
Francesca leaned back, putting her curls behind her ear. She smiled at me triumphantly. “Do you know what we do to traitors? Killing a member without reason is a crime.”
Her head turned to the other end of the table. That’s when I turned my profile to see who she was talking with and almost staggered back.
It had been almost a year since I last saw his face, and it still hit me like the first time. I couldn’t drink anything amber because I was pathetic. Gideon was here trying to get voted into my world.
He had a smirk on his handsome face, and even though I saw him a year ago, I could see the changes in his façade. He wasn’t the same man I had left behind. There was something different about him. In London, I’d noticed the tattoos covering his neck and hands. There used to be some restraint to him, but now I saw none. He was all chaos. I knew he had abandoned his crown, but I never thought he would want to join this organization.
“No, I don’t know. Why don’t you enlighten me, love.” He smirked at Francesca, ignoring me.
My body was on fire. My palms itched to throw another star, maybe two, and have them land in Francesca’s eyes. That would make for a pretty decoration. I wanted to see her blood spill for—fuck. I stopped my train of thought when I realized that I was jealous.
“We punish death with death.” Francesca beamed with pride.
The only thing left for me was to keep smiling. Everyone was a monster in this room. I came because I had a point to prove, so it was time to prove it. I walked around the table, aware that I had everyone’s eyes on me. It was their fault for underestimating me. Well, almost everyone underestimated me. Three people in this room knew what I was capable of. I knew Damian was waiting for me to show my hand. Bas was addicted to mayhem, so he was waiting for me to put on a show. But the one who unraveled me the most was Gideon. What he’d said to me in London stayed with me. He knew I could slay my own demons, but he wanted to be the one to do it.
I went around the table toward my seat. I passed Francesca, and my fingers glided over her back. She stiffened at my touch. She might act like she wasn’t afraid of me, but the bitch was.
I leaned into her and mocked her. “True, true, that’s what happens to people like you.” Pinching her cheek, I walked away to where I had killed Johnny. I pulled his chair back a bit, took back my throwing star, and let it drop on the table. After that was done, I kicked his lifeless body, making it fall on the floor.
The room was silent as everyone watched me, too afraid to speak up because they didn’t want to risk being next.
Ignoring them, I sat down on the chair and faced them.
“Fun fact.�
�� I paused for a dramatic effect. “My family were founding members. Isn’t that right, Damian?”
There were a few gasps. I turned to Francesca and winked.
“Your vote?” Damian said in a bored tone. They didn’t call him the pale demon for nothing. He was a master at instilling fear. He’d had enough of my little power play. There would be no punishment for me today—well, at least for killing Johnny. Something else would come up. It always did.
I got up now that my point was made. I turned around, and I faced Gideon. Our eyes clashed, and I wanted to run to him, but I refrained.
“Nay,” I said, looking straight at him so he would know I didn’t want him here.
I walked out of that room, and I didn’t see him again for another year.
Gideon
My eyes watched the swing of Daphne’s hips as she walked away. There was something more confident about the way she carried herself now. She was a woman on a mission, and it turned me on.
“This has been fun, but I need to catch a plane to Dubai.” The man who spoke had me gritting my teeth. He got up and fixed the lapels on his fancy suit. The once American playboy was now a killer. Worst of all, he was stuck like glue to my woman.
His eyes cut to mine, and they mocked me.
It’s not like I expected to join right away, but to have her vote be the only no, it stung, yet amused me.
Turning toward Damian, I masked my façade. Since the first time I spoke to him, I could tell he’d had it out for Daphne.
Leaning back in my chair, I pulled out a cigar and took a drag before I spoke.
“She still hates my guts,” I joked. I got up and pulled out a USB drive from my leather jacket. “As a token of appreciation, I’ll leave you this gift.”
I slid the USB across the table toward him. It contained sensitive information on all the flights in the United Kingdom scheduled for next year.
Damian grabbed the USB and smiled. It was cold, and I knew I had just sold my soul to the devil. I walked out of that room, knowing that it was only a matter of time before I was in. Run, Petal, run as fast as you can. In the end, I will be there to capture you.
One Year Later
Location: Mediterranean Sea
I didn’t know what I was doing here on this little island. It was too quiet and peaceful—gorgeous. Inside of me was havoc, deception, betrayal.
For years the remains of my babushka had remained hidden from me in a sick power play. When Damian finally gave me her location, I put my babushka to rest with her mother.
When blood meets church, secrets unravel, and I knew what Damian had planned. If I didn’t stop him before it was too late, there wouldn’t be anyone on this earth who would be able to stop him.
The feelings left me feeling raw and exposed, and I had to run. I left my safe house in Sweden under lockdown, telling Bas to guard it but not to go inside. He listened, and he would obey because, just like me, he felt for the girl. In a way, it reminded him of his beloved. If you ask me, Katia was a fucking bitch who chose her path while this girl had her future ripped out from her.
Now here I was because I needed to run. I needed a place where I could just be, and I somehow ended up in his backyard. I liked to keep my friends close and my enemies closer, so I always liked to know what everyone was up to. It’s not like I actively sought out Gideon. If Bas reported his whereabouts, that was on him and not me.
The weather was humid, sunny—horrendous. I was used to cold weather. I tried to avoid tropical locations at all costs. I looked down at myself, and I didn’t feel like me. The black maxi skirt was tight at the waist, then flared out with a slit on the side. There was no room for extra weapons. I wore sandals and a black crochet top. The only weapons I carried were the daggers strapped to my thigh. Not that I expected trouble, but it usually found me.
Gideon’s safe house was a cute little villa in Sardinia, an island that belonged to Spain. When money was no obstacle, a five-hour flight was nothing. So here I was now, waiting for the sunset while walking to the side of his house trying to…I don’t know…fucking recon on him before I went to his front step, saying what?
Sorry I kicked you out of my bed the next day after you helped me steal someone’s pet?
It didn’t seem like enough.
When I rounded the corner, I halted. I stayed back, hidden behind some trees, and just watched him. He was gorgeous—the summer to my winter. He sat on a chair on his patio—no shirt and navy blue and white swimming trunks. His tattoos were gloriously displayed. I remember touching them with my fingers, tracing them with the tip of my tongue. Reading the road map of his body and being in awe of his body. His fight against the world was hidden behind his tattoos. An easy smile was on his face as he talked to someone sitting across from him.
There was something lodged in my throat. It felt like a knife cutting me down from the inside out. The woman with him was gorgeous. She was young and carefree, with tan skin with black hair, wearing a tiny bikini while she flirted with him.
He threw her a wink, then got up and went inside the house.
What am I even doing here?
She was more his type than I could ever be. I waited for him to come back to see what he would do with her. He came back with some plates and more wine.
There was something sour on my tongue. My lower lip trembled. I was feeling things I had never felt before. With one last look at them, I turned around. Gideon lived on top of a cliff. I made my way down toward the beach. Maybe at nighttime I could find some peace and think.
When I got there, I forced myself to think of anything other than Gideon, but the only other person who came to mind was my babushka. I sat there just thinking until the sky went black and the stars shined bright, yet I didn’t have an answer to the questions I had.
My back straightened. I felt him behind me before he spoke.
“What are you doing here, Daphne?” He spoke in a harsh voice.
I wasn’t Petal, and somehow that stung.
Slowly, I turned my head to see him. It’s like I loved to torture myself with things I could never have. He was standing a few feet away. He was still shirtless, with his hands in his pockets, and wearing a pair of loafers.
“Shouldn’t you be with your girlfriend?” I bit out, that vile feeling I had in my tongue now spreading all over my body, making me shake.
“Why do you care?” He took a step toward me, making me feel small since he towered over me, but I refused to move. “You made sure I knew where my place was when you kicked me the fuck out of your bed.” He was now standing at my back like a reaper, ready to end my miserable life. “You want to get fucked? Is that why you’re here? I doubt you care who warms my bed.” Our eyes clashed, his with something that looked a lot like hate. “Let me tell you something, love: it’s not the same woman every night.”
There was no reason for me to feel jealous when I hadn’t been celibate myself. I was a whore. I didn’t sell myself for money, that I had in spades. I traded sex for knowledge—because knowledge was power.
Since there was no point for me being here, I got up and started to walk away, but Gideon was there, stopping me.
“You’re exquisite, love, but you already knew that. Too bad it’s just another weapon at your arsenal. So beautiful yet deadly. You act like you don’t like your beauty, but you exploit it every chance you have.” I flinched at his words. He didn’t care. He kept going. “As soon as you stepped foot in my house, I fucking felt you. That’s how deep you are in my being. When I went inside, I checked the cameras, and imagine my surprise to find you standing there, looking like my every nightmare.” He was breathing heavily. He turned me around so I could face him, his hold on me hard. He didn’t care if I bruised or not. “You fucking haunt me.”
We were both breathing heavily. We affected each other in a way that was unhealthy—unreal. He was my nightmare too, haunting me and following me around like death’s cloak. Except when he was flesh and bone, and he became my protector. T
here was too much going on inside my head, too much pain inside my chest, my veins filled with lust and hate.
Grief—what I felt was grief. I’d read all about it, that and jealousy. Emotions so strong that could tip you over. Too late for that, I thought bitterly.
“They finally told me where her remains were located,” I whispered, as I closed my eyes, or else I would lose it.
The hold Gideon had on me loosened a bit. Taking this as a good sign, I kept going with the word vomit.
“Matriarchy was how my family worked. My father took my mother’s last name since hers held power. As it was the way with my grandmother and her mother before her. My babushka raised me. She was the only real mother I had. Mine was infatuated with my father to the point he made her weak.” My throat clogged; it was physically painful to let him in. “Our family were founding members of Sekten. Something that was supposed to stop corrupt governments to be the voice of the people, but somehow along the way, the Sekt lost their way. Part of the disease was my father. After my eighth birthday…” My breath was rising and falling, but that’s when I noticed I was pressed to Gideon’s chest. He held me with one hand while the other played with my hair.
“Shhh, Petal, you don’t have to tell me about that,” he whispered against my hair.
He was wrong. He needed to know part of why it would never work between us. He had no worries, and I carried an empire on my shoulders.
“My grandmother found out two years after what my father had done to me. She confronted my mother, but my babushka was not the fighter she once had been. She lived a harsh life. She didn’t deserve anything my mother did. She was a spineless woman who forgot where she hailed from and let my father do with her as he pleased.”