You condemn yourself to being alone.
It’s only now, imprisoned and secure in Rex’s arms, that I start to wonder if I could live another way.
6
Rex
Evil never sleeps.Which is why I stay awake long after Inara falls asleep in my arms.This time, she rests peacefully, with no tremors or bad dreams.
I can’t be the man she wants me to be, but at least I can keep her safe and watch over her while she sleeps.
If you ever felt anything for me, if any of it was real, you would set me free,she told me before she fell asleep.
I can see our future, where I hold her tight in my arms, keeping her safe even while she grows sadder and sadder.She’s right; without her work, she’ll be a shell of herself.
But her work also might kill her.I had to make a choice, and I’ll always, always choose to save her.Even if it means the rest of the world burns.
But she won’t let me own all of her.She’s too stubborn for that.She’s been holding back pieces of herself.I thought I could coax her secrets from her in time, but BK escalated things, and now I don’t know how to earn her trust again.
I’m about to do another thing she won’t approve of, and the chasm between us will only grow deeper.But it’s already too vast to contemplate, so what’s another six feet?
After midnight, I rise, careful not to wake her, and kiss her perfect face.I could chain her to the bed—I have the chains ready and attached to the bed frame, including a replacement for the one she ripped apart—but I don’t.
I hate leaving her, but after all the trouble Hamish went through setting up this meeting with the most dangerous men in the city, it’s imperative I attend in person.
I fly to New Rome and walk into a nightclub called Club Inferno in the dark hours before dawn.
Two identical blond thugs escort me through the restaurant, bar, and strip club area, straight to a private meeting place.There’s a long conference table in the center of the room, but only one chair at the head of the table.My guards lead me to the opposite end of the table, so I guess the chair isn’t for me.
I thank them, but they don’t say a word.They remain flanking me while the rest of the meeting attendees file in.
Seven gang members take their places around the table.They’re mostly men, although there’s a slim woman in a wheelchair with tattoos winding up her arms.Some are dressed in jeans and leather jackets like they’re part of a biker gang, while others look more like businessmen in their tailored three-piece suits.Most of them also wear skull masks to hide their faces.
The one thing they all have in common is the huge silver rings decorated with a skull.Different colored jewels glitter in the skull ring’s eye sockets.These are The Seven, the leaders of a gang called Fraternitas.
Hamish and I have cataloged as many of them as we can, putting names to faces in a private database we keep on all important figures in New Rome.Even with our thorough research, a few figures remain mysterious.
Fraternitas means “brotherhood,” and the gang was founded by a group of street children who pledged their loyalty to each other above all.Now, their wealth and power are formidable.In a few decades, it might rival mine.
St.James is one of the last to enter in his signature gray suit.I know he’s been up all night, but he doesn’t look tired.He takes his place behind the single chair.
The man who enters last is shorter than St.James, but his presence sends ripples through the room.Surrounded by other powerful gang members, he’s the obvious leader.I’ve never met him, but I know of him.He’s Damien to his friends, but everyone else refers to him as The Devil.
There’s no record of a man named Damien.No history, no childhood.Hamish and I have tried to gather information but found nothing more than hearsay and legend.In the early days of Fraternitas, he made a name for himself by murdering the heads of every gang and crime family in a bold and genius move.The coup created chaos and paved the way for Fraternitas to cement their control of all criminal activity in the city, from gambling and smuggling to the illegal fights under the city.
Like the rest of the gang, Damien wears the signature Fraternitas ring, but his ring is the only one that has a skull wearing a crown.If businessmen like me rule above ground, he’s king of the underworld.At least in New Rome.
I nod to both St.James and Damien, but only St.James nods back.
Damien goes to the head of the table and stands in front of the chair but doesn’t sit down.
“All right, Roy,” he says to me.“We’re here.What do you want?”
I don’t waste any time.I paid a million dollars for the privilege of meeting with the heads of Fraternitas because money is the language St.James speaks fluently.If money talks, mine shouts the loudest.
“There’s a new serial killer in New Rome.I’m hoping we can form an alliance for the purpose of bringing him down.”
I look at the blond thug to the right of me, the one who took my briefcase while his identical twin frisked me at the door.He brings it to Damien, who opens it on the table and removes the files Hamish and I compiled on the case.
