“I wasn’t spying, Indi,” Riordan said placatingly. “I received a tip from a reputable source that someone had claimed the bounty on your head. We rushed over to the Crow’s compound as soon as we found out, hoping we’d get to you before Roark’s men. I didn’t realize that you’d been betrayed from within the club and arrived shortly after you were taken. We stayed until Duke got word from Bones that he’d been arrested, helping to protect the clubhouse.”
“Why would you do that?” I asked, genuinely curious. Bones and Priest didn’t seem to like the bratva much, and I got the impression that Riordan barely tolerated them in return.
Riordan shrugged. “Because I knew you’d want me to. The Crows are important to you, so I’ll do what I can to help them. For your sake.”
“Awwww,” Lennon cooed under her breath. “That’s so sweet.” Cricket rolled his eyes and kicked her foot under the table. “What?” she said with an arm thrown in Riordan’s direction. “It is! Look at him: big, bad tatted gangster on the outside, sweet protective cinnamon roll on the inside. It’s fuckin’ cute!”
“Don’t say that where Ivan could hear you,” Riordan muttered. “He’d never let me hear the end of it.”
“Whatsourcesent you a tip like that, though? I doubtCrime Stoppers Anonymousmakes calls to bratva bros.” I quirked an eyebrow at Riordan, unwilling to get anywhere but the bottom of this issue. If I wasgoing to help Los Cuervos and the Petrov bratva to be underworld besties for the resties, we needed to establish some trust.
“About a year ago, we received an invitation to join an exclusive chat room, one used to vet members for the Astraea platform. Have you heard of it?” Riordan asked.
“No,” I replied, while at the same time Cricket and Bear said, “Yes.” My eyes shot over to my conscience, who shared a solemn look with Bear. Lennon shrugged and huffed, annoyed at being kept in the dark.
“Astraea is run by an anonymous entity who goes by the screen name of Nicodemus. He works with a network of individuals who are interested in taking down the shadow organizations that traffic people.”
“And are you?” I interrupted. “Interested in combating the skin trade, that is?” Maybe Priest and Riordan could be best friends after all. It seemed like they had more in common than they realized.
“Not exactly,” Riordan replied, dashing my hopes of matching BFF bracelets for my cousin and my… Priest.
“Then why would this Nicodemus have invited you to join his super-secret dark web chatroom?”
“Nicodemus was testing the waters, feeling us out.” Riordan shared a look with his father, who nodded slightly before he continued. “A few years ago, we ended all affiliation with The Consortium, the final act in a long line of actions taken to end all of our bratva’s connections to human trafficking. As far as we’re aware, we’re the only bratva within the syndicate to sever all involvement in the skin trade.”
“So this Nicodemus is like some kind of white hat hacker, and they tipped you off the night Pyro betrayed us?” Lennon asked.
“Whoever Pyro is working with must have used one of the dark net marketplaces to accept the hit on Indigo. Nicodemus monitored several popular chat rooms, markets, and listing sites, and saw that we’d been trying to discover who put the bounty on her head after we confirmed Indigo was Tatiana’s daughter. Once we discovered our connection, we increased our efforts, and our curiosity must have been enough to pique Nicodemus's interest. He warned us that someone had accepted the job and sent confirmation of her location to Roark.”
While I digested this, my aunt decided she’d had enough of being kept in the dark. “Mikhail, explain. What is this Consortium, and whydoes our son know of it before I do?” Geesh. I didn’t envy my uncle on this one. Cara didn’t seem to appreciate being in the dark, and I could totally get why. However, on this subject in particular, I could say with absolute certainty that ignorance was bliss. I could have gone my entire life happily without the knowledge of the depths to which man is susceptible to evil. I decided to do my uncle a solid and take this bullet for him.
“Have you ever heard of dog fighting?” I asked my aunt.
“Yes,” she replied, hesitantly.
“Ever watchedGladiator?” Cricket asked, supporting me without needing to be asked like a good conscience does.
“Yes,” Cara said, the change in her tone implying that the dots were being connected as we spoke.
“Well,” I explained, “The Consortium organizes secret extra-curricular bad guy activities, and one of them is something like…peopledog fights.”Man, this was such an awkward dinner party, I thought with a huff. “It’s made up of members from different organizations, not just the underworld. Some of the members looked like they were rich, really important people…or at least they thought so. Probably politicians and leaders and stuff like that.” A sigh huffed out of me as I sat back in my chair. “So these fights. Any member can sponsor a fighter, and any fighter can win. The only rule was that each event was to the death unless otherwise stated. Fighters were usually taken against their will and forced to compete, though sometimes members would recruit people to be their gladiator if they had a grudge against another member. Members also had the opportunity to act as architects or game makers, designing the death matches to fulfill their sick desires and fantasies.”
“Wait—” Lennon interrupted, but I powered on.
“The location of each game varied… they had to keep moving the location to maintain secrecy.” Lennon and Cara each gaped at me, but Riordan, Mikhail, Cricket, and Bear listened to my explanation with grim expressions drawn taut upon their faces. “Sometimes the matches were one-on-one. Sometimes, there were a handful of us, each striving for a single prize: life. Unc—Roarkis a member, and sometimes he was chosen to design the arena. When he did…those times were his favorite. He always made sure I would have to compete when he was an architect.” I paused for a moment, unsure if I was sharing too much, but then I figured… screw it. “Members of The Consortium would bet on the outcome of the matches, and they could also bid on the winner. Sometimes I wasn’t sure which was worse, dying in the arena or surviving and having to go on living afterward.”
“And you…” Lennon asked, but she stopped when she saw the look on my face.
A tight, grim expression tugged at the corner of my mouth, floundering somewhere between a snarl and a haunted smile. “Did whatever I had to do in order to survive? Yes.”Yes, I fucking did. And it would never stop haunting me.
Chapter 13
Cricket
There have been several moments in my life crystalized in my memory, preserved perfectly like the mosquito in amber fromJurassic Park. The day my mum finally walked away from my piece of shit father, the time I saw someone’s heart break right before my eyes… and right now. The moment I realized that the woman I’d befriended and taken in as a sister had survived gladiatorial slavery and gone on with her life like it was business as usual. I guess for her, it was. And didn’t that just make me want to bloody punch something. I was such a piece of shite. I volunteered to escort Indi and Lennon the moment I heard where they were going. Not because I was “the best brother-boss-conscience in the whole, wide world” like Indigo believed, but because I was a selfish bastard who couldn’t turn down an opportunity for a glimpse of his biggest regret and most wicked temptation: Sutton DeVries.
I hadn’t laid eyes on her since that night so many years ago, the night I’d ballsed everything up and she’d disappeared. When Indigo had askedBear and me to accompany her tonight, all I could think was,maybe she’ll be there.An apology was the least of what I owed Sutton, and if I had to use my clinically quirky adopted sister for the chance that Imightsee her…I would. That made me a bastard of the highest order, but I couldn’t pretend otherwise. Un-fucking-fortunately for me, Sutton was nowhere to be found tonight, and Indigo had steered us into intense conversational waters. Because, of course she did.
I didn’t pretend to understand her madness like Bones did, but I couldn’t deny the connection I’d felt with the crazy girl next to me at Mikhail bloody Petrov’s dinner table, of all places. Indigo and I shared a cheekiness of spirit that I’d come to value quite highly, not to mention our dark sides. Indigo’s darkness spilled out chaotically, like a cup that’d been filled to the brim…and then been handed to someone on a roller coaster. My darkness…well. It simmered, tucked away in the recesses of my mind, until I unleashed it with precision. I was able to focus my demons… Indigo’s seemed to take chunks out of her at the earliest opportunity. I couldn’t say which coping mechanism was the most effective, but I could tell you which was more socially acceptable.
