I blinked, adjusting to the dimmer light, and found them standing in front of a wall of shelves that hid another entrance.
Daphne vanished through the doorway first, and I trailed behind her. The moment I stepped off the main floor, I tripped on a step.
“Shit,” I hissed just as Daphne turned, darting her arms out to keep me from falling.
“Are you nervous?” she asked as I steadied myself, wishing these concrete steps had a handrail.
I brushed dust off my sweater. “I mean, I am about to go to a place called theLair,” I said nervously as Seraphina pushed a button.
Behind us, the door swung shut, and the three of us descended the steps.
“It’s actually the Devil’s Lair,” Seraphina explained when we landed in a long concrete hallway illuminated by wall sconces. “We just call it Lair for short.”
The addedDevil’sat the beginning sure didn’t make me feel any better.
Down in the earth again, I wondered how many places were underground here. I needed to research Saint Vale more because none of these underground areas were on the map Arisono had provided in my welcome packet.
As we walked, a sense of uneasiness settled over me, as if this were the calm before the storm.
Whatever I was about to step into would be a different world for me. Like Dorothy being whisked away, tumbling through the wind, and landing in the Land of Oz.
We didn’t walk far until they stopped at a door eerily marked with a carved skull. As I inched closer, I noticed a snake slithering from the hollow eye socket.
This place keeps getting creepier.
“Welcome to the Devil’s Lair,” Daphne said. “A place few know exists, let alone are invited to.”
Seraphina swiped a card through a scanner to the right. It gave a soft beep, blinked once, and the door swung open.
I followed them inside, my gaze sweeping the space. Unlike the cold corridor, this no longer felt underground.
The room matched the atmosphere of an upscale bar, built for billionaires to drown themselves in expensive liquor and cigars.
A sound from the right corner grabbed my attention. Agroup of guys sprawled on the couch with their eyes glued to the TV.
At a pub table nearby, one sat alone. In the low light above him, I noticed a jagged scar on his right cheek. His gaze stayed on us as he repeatedly opened his Zippo, then snuffed the flame.
The room felt … familiar. Goose bumps prickled my skin. I didn’t know if it was the air or something deeper, but I had a strange sense of déjà vu.
Nausea swirled in my gut, telling me that this was where Enzo had taken me to play that ridiculous knife game.
“Come on,” Daphne chirped, grabbing my hand and pulling me across the room toward Adelina and Livia, who were chatting on a plush leather sectional.
Insecurity surfaced inside me. I hadn’t changed out of my black leggings, only thrown on a sweater, and I felt underdressed compared to the girls. The last time I’d looked in the mirror, dark circles ringed my eyes and exhaustion had been written all over my face.
Do any of these girls, other than Daphne, know I just endured my brutal Initiation?
Speaking of Sons …
I suspected most of them were on the opposite side of the room, though it was hard to identify them when they weren’t masked.
Cowards.
At least show your face when you’re terrorizing women.
I didn’t get a chance to pick the girls’ brains before Brooks came toward us, swaying side to side with a glass of brown liquor in his hand.
As he joined us, he pointed the glass first at Daphne, then me. “Neither of you should be here.”
