Eva lurched backwards. “Touch me again and I’ll kill you,” she hissed, fist clenched and ready to strike before Augustine gripped her wrist.
“I think it’s time to show you exactly what we do,” he smirked, eyes brightening. “Dutch, shall we escort my fledgling downstairs?”
Dutch grinned, moving close enough she felt a burst of heat that bristled against her skin. “This is going to be fun.” Blood flaked on his bare chest, and even dried it caught Eva’s attention, her fangs descending a little. “After you, pretty lady.” He bowed at the waist, lifting his arm towards the doors to the first room.
Floyd moved first, turning towards the circular desk in the centre of the room. The floor was marble, Eva realised when she stepped inside, high quality and clean compared to the cold and split concrete. The edge was lined with gold, the metal a slight lip that surrounded the desk in a complete circle. Floyd brushed dust off the wood, moving his fingers across the desk until he found a carving of a skull, inserting a key into the left eye socket.
Augustine pulled her towards his chest, an arm around her waist to keep her immobile while Dutch watched opposite, his attention unwavering. “Don’t move,” he whispered as the entire area surrounding the desk began to descend as Dutch hummed to himself.
Eva would have fought Augustine’s hold, but her legs felt unsteady as the floor beneath her feet vibrated, gentle at first but then her muscles began to ache, the tremors rattling up her spine. Cracks opened up in the marble, a pale white light leaking through the gaps.
The lift continued to descend, the walls climbing until she was trapped on all sides, a coffin enclosing around her. The mechanism was silent as they finally stopped, the marble continuing down the corridor, pale cream with bursts of gold that glittered against the glowing light.
The cracks seemed to spread from the lift, connecting to white veins that pulsed brighter with every step, and then dimmed as they passed. They climbed along the walls, hypnotising as they walked, passing a few darkened corridors until they finally stopped before a door with a large metal snake coiled in the centre, surrounded by thick metal bars.
Dutch’s humming became louder, clear enough she realised he was going through a children’s nursey rhythm.
Floyd remained silent as he carefully unlocked the door using the same key as before. The snake in the centre creaked, the head moving until it slowly slithered along the indents towards the top left of the door. The bars slid back one by one, hunted by the snake in a clockwise circle. When the last bar slid away the snake returned to its original position in the centre.
“How many Units do we have?” Augustine asked as the door opened.
It was Dutch who answered. “Thirty-three fresh meat at last count.”
“Yes, but we have enough cells for Fifty,” Floyd added.
“Good, make sure you send more scouts. I would like us to reopen next week at full capacity. You know how quickly they die,” Augustine sniggered, his footsteps silent as the marble changed to a cold, grey concrete and stone.
Eva remained silent, her heels tapping along the floor. The white veins continued their flow throughout, shooting off into multiple direction when the corridor opened up into a bright open space, the high ceiling replicating natural sunlight.
“Holy shit,” she whispered beneath her breath, surprised to see the large arena deep beneath the city. The walkway wrapped around a centre circle, the half wall allowing her to clearly see the red stained sands below. There were three levels of tiered seating, with the ones closest to the sands protected by a reinforced metal lattice. The fourth level seemed to be split into individual rooms behind thickened glass, all with perfect view of the action.
“Welcome to the Pits.”
She bent slightly over the wall, noticing the metal bars that circled the entire structure on the sand level. A walkway jutted out above, higher than the private boxes. “What is this place?” she asked, turning only for a hand to grip her throat.
“This is where the elite watch those who have been forgotten, just like you, fight to the death.” Augustine’s fingers tightened, pushing her until her back bowed, her body up to her waist hanging over open air.
Eva clawed at his arm, holding on as her stomach strained, clenching to stop her falling.
“I wonder how long you would survive down there.”
She felt herself fall, her heart skipping a beat as his fingers loosened. She let go of his arm, nails scraping against the wall to stop her descent before he yanked her towards him, Dutch hysterically laughing behind.
“We’ve lost business to those fucking cages and professional fights, membership is already down twenty percent even before our reopening,” he said, turning to face the others. “Even with someone as pretty as this fighting, it won’t bring in the same numbers as before.”
“Which is exactly the reason for the new event,” Dutch said.
“We need to remind the other Lords who we are and why we’re feared,” Augustine continued. “What’s the saying… Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer? If this‘He’or another nameless fuck wants our territory, then they’re going to have to come and take it.” Augustine smirked, clasping his hands together. “So let’s invite him, and everyone else who would see us dead. Let’s invite them straight into the Vipers den.”
Chapter12
Kace
He could feel them watching, their concerned stares little pinpricks across his skin, eating away at the stitches barely holding his shit together. But he wouldn’t break, wouldn’t give in to the desire to feel nothing but rage until it consumed him entirely.
“Hunter’s description matches one of the new intakes,” Sythe said carefully. “There’s already a betting pool outside the entrance in The Market.”
Kace’s beast pressed at the confines of his mind, his anger so strong it blended with his own until they were both in agreement. He needed to remain the man, to have a voice before he finally gave into the monster he kept buried inside. Because he was a monster, someone who craved violence in the same way everyone needed oxygen. It was survival, something that kept him just on the edge of sanity.
