I clear my throat and continue addressing the club. “If anyone has an issue with my appointed circle, you can use the usual channels to air your grievances. But I caution you—a direct challenge will be answered in kind. I will not tolerate a rebellion.”
Members look around as if assessing each other to see if any might offer to challenge Egan for the future position he’ll hold. The secretary, a djinn, slinks his way to the front. It’s easy to overlook him, with his unassuming demeanor, but I know what can live under the visages we show the world, so I’ve made it a point never to underestimate him.
“Deekhil,” I acknowledge.
“Lorelei.” He dips his head and eyes in a small show of respect. “I have a question on semantics. If he doesn’t speak, how does he communicate?”
Deekhil is worried about how he will keep records of Egan without being able to transcribe his words. “I suppose you’ll have to record his actions for now. I’ve found he’s very good at conveying his position so far.”
Deekhil looks up and over my shoulder. Egan must be standing behind me. “Yes, I can see that,” he admits. I’m tempted to look over my shoulder to see what the fallen is doing, but I don’t give in to the urge.
“Does anyone have anything to report? Is there anything I should know about?” I ask the room.
A female shifter steps forward, angling her way out from a few other members. I don’t know her name, but her face is familiar. “I was down by the docks, and there are whispers of a leadership change,” she tells me while meeting my eyes.
“That’s to be expected, considering what happened.” I look over at Deekhil. “Should we make an announcement?”
“They are not talking about you taking over,” she finishes, pulling my attention back to her.
“What do you mean?” Salvador questions before I can.
“Word’s out that the Obsidian Angels are going to hold trials for a new leader.”
I scan the room to see if anyone else will corroborate her claim. Only one person comes to mind when I think about how this got started—Thana.
My territory will be inundated with creatures who will think they can best each other for the chance to hold the power of the Obsidian Angels. I should rip her fucking tongue out for spreading such bullshit lies.
“Let them come,” I rumble. My skin feels too tight with the urge to shift. Thinking about walking away and doing it are two very different things. It may have crossed my mind to leave the club and everything that came with it, but only when it was my choice, and it seems I’ve made my decision to stay. “There will be no trials, and I will kill anyone who attempts to challenge that.”
CHAPTER10
Egan
My wings erupt from my back, already laced with hellfire, at the mere mention of someone challenging my mate. My palm aches with the need for a sword as the lust for battle fills me. It’s been decades since I’ve felt so much as a stirring of life, but finding the other half of your soul will do that to you, even if you were as dead inside as I was just yesterday.
“Double the patrols and get word to the outliers that we may have an influx of visitors. Anyone that comes into the territory is bound by our laws and the laws of the Syndicate. If they choose to ignore those laws, they will be executed with prejudice, which means if they plan on doing more than passing through, they must come to me.” Lore moves her head slowly from left to right, looking over her club members.
“If there are any of you who doubt my ability to run this club or my desire to do so, you can leave your cuts at the door on your way out. This is your one free pass,” Lore warns, “because if I doubt your allegiance to me and the club in the future, I will not hesitate to rip you to shreds and leave what’s left of your body for the crustaceans on my shore to devour.”
It’s a rather effective consequence, but it still wouldn’t be enough to satisfy my thirst for vengeance should someone cross her. Lore pauses for a long moment, as if she’s giving everyone a chance for her words to sink and for them to decide if they will stand with her. Wisely, none of them move for the door. They wouldn’t have made it out of the city if they had. I would have killed them for the exodus.
“Reaper and Deekhil, I want to speak with you in the office, and where the fuck are Rolk and Sabastian?” Lore tugs her hand away from the demon before she gets an answer, already on a path that will take her away from me.
I don’t bother asking if I can join her, but I do make eye contact with the demon, then run my gaze over the group of club members, telling him to watch them. He gives me a slight nod of understanding.
When Deekhil tries to close the door, I stop him with my palm on the wood. The djinn looks up at me with purple eyes full of questions. I don’t give him a second glance as I breeze past him. He’s not why I’m here.
Lore is on the other side of the room, avoiding the large desk and the chair behind it, choosing to stay on her feet as she spins to face the three of us. If she’s surprised I joined her, she doesn’t show it.
“Rolk was here earlier. We didn’t know you were coming in until you showed up, and he went home before that. I can get him back here if you want to speak with him,” the demon she addressed as Reaper tells her before she has to ask again.
“I want to speak with him, but it can wait,” Lore replies. “Did you ask him if there was anything going on?”
“With Harlow, yeah. He said the books and money are solid, and nothing is out of the ordinary. On a personal level, the goblin rarely leaves his lair, so he doesn’t know shit about your dad.” That’s not surprising. Goblins tend to be sedentary creatures that take a great deal of pride in the amount of wealth they control or oversee.
“And Sabastian? I didn’t see him out there,” Lore prompts. I want to know who he is and why she’s asking about him specifically. I need to familiarize myself with these beings and learn everything I can about them so I can exploit their weaknesses if need be.
“Probably shitfaced somewhere, if I had to guess. He was here when you came back last night. He’s known Harlow for a long time, they were friends,” the demon informs her, as if that’s an excuse for his absence.
