With one last searing look, he slammed the door, shutting me into darkness.
THIRTY-SIX
GEMMA
Sandwiched between Wraith and Raze, I replayed the events as the car rumbled farther away from my home. Blood. Screaming.
I felt another panic attack coming.
My mom.
My brother.
My sister.
My world?—
“People will talk,” I said. “The police will come. You can’t just…just hurt someone because hetalkedto me.” And what was wrong with me that I liked it? That I had goose bumps?
At my side, Raze laughed, like what I’d said was ridiculous.
I always knew they were powerful. They were the darkness in Crowne Point. Seen butunseen. Felt. But there was no way they could have so much power that they could beat a man in broad daylight and get away with it. Right?
Lock’s blue eyes fastened on me in the rearview. “Afraid yet, princess?”
A few moments later we pulled up to the Wharf. Raze tugged me out of the car, shoving me toward the Underworld.
The Wharf was divided into parts. The famous Underworld, the club, was originally an old lighthouse. Sometime in the nineteen hundreds, a hurricane hit and the lighthouse was destroyed. After that, the Wharf ended serious functionality, and the lighthouse was reconstituted into a church. The result was a Frankenstein of architecture, an uncanny mix of stained glass shoved into concrete and industrial purpose.
A few yards behind the club sat the only other functional building: the Horsemen’s home. Like the club, it dated back almost as far as Crowne Hall. When the Ferris wheel was operational, it was a haunted house. Before that, it was the preacher’s residence. Before that, the lighthouse keeper’s home.
They pushed me through a door of black wood and jewel-stained glass.
I’d been to this part of the Wharf once before, when I needed Grim’s help and he kept me as collateral. But even then, I’d been blindfolded, shoved into a dark room.
Opulentwasn’t the right word for their house.Rich, maybe, like a good wine or expensive steak. I expected the inside to be as cold as the people who lived here, but it was filled with a delicious warmth that came from fireplaces and wrapped like a blanket.
It was well kept. Black, exposed brick lined the hallway. Great windows overlooked the Wharf and beach where theocean was an inky-black void, and a reckless wind blew, loud and rushing. It was impossible to tell if the roaring came from the trees bending to the wind, or waves crashing on the sand.
I caught a glimpse of the kitchen and living room as they shoved me down a short hallway, up black wooden stairs, and into a room on the second floor.
Floor-to-ceiling mullioned windows overlooked the old pier and the rusted Ferris wheel, while a vaulted ceiling with exposed ribs of black wood gave the room a feeling of ghostly sanctuary.
There was a bed, not neat, not messy—silky black sheets, heavy blankets, metal frame.
Scattered remnants of normalcy lingered. A chipped mug, a lighter, a gun on the nightstand.
Someonelivedhere.
“Time you learned the rules, princess,” Lock said.
I blinked out of my thoughts, into Lock’s cold blue eyes. Lock and Raze faced me, blocking the exit. Wraith leaned against the doorframe, partially obscured by their bodies. To the left, Grim leaned against the wall, one foot up behind him, hands in his pocket.
They looked…relaxed.
“Rules?” I asked.
“Pretty sure you’ve figured out the first one,” Raze said. “Don’t fuck other people.”
