Aurelius shifts his attention from Wilcox to me. “In some cases. In others, the Head Keeper and I will determine what you have to offer that will benefit our society. In all cases, an initiation test will be arranged to challenge your abilities. This allows us to weed out any who might burden the system.”
“We’re always up for a challenge, sir.” Wilcox rocks forward on his toes, nervousness disguised as eagerness.
“I’d like to be a Keeper,” I say.
Wilcox turns to me, his eyes widening as his jaw clenches. He thinks I’m being obvious. Because I know my motive, I understand. Though for the record, I would’ve chosen Dreg. But he’s too busy kissing ass, he isn’t thinking about how we might act if we didn’t have nefarious intentions.
What kind of pussy wouldn’t pick Keeper?
“Keeper? Really?” Aurelius hums. He addresses Wilcox. “And what would you like to be?”
“Uh…” Wilcox flicks his gaze to me. For what? Guidance? “A Keeper as well, sir.”
“Wonderful.” Aurelius claps his hands as his face brightens. “We’ll make arrangements for your task.”
“Fantastic, sir. Thank you.”
Aurelius gestures to the guy behind me. “Thorne, would you please…” Thorne—a six-foot-sevenish beefy-looking Keeper with a tribal tattoo wrapped around his bicep—takes Wilcox’s arm and manhandles him from the room, no gentler than before.
“As for you, Mr. Hansley…”
Inwardly, I groan, my gut clenching at the sound of my name, myoldname. I’m not surprised to hear it, despite giving the cult a different alias. If he knows about the island, it’s only reasonable he’s seen my face plastered across every news article having to do with it.
“We believe you’ll be better suited as a Cultivator, given your specialty. We’re looking to expand our Seraph population. Noone in our society wants their daughter to take on the role, and as a father myself, I can’t blame them.”
Seraph. The ‘soul purifier.’ Why do I get the feeling that’s another way of saying sex slave?
“I don’t do human trafficking.”
“Anymore,” Aurelius finishes for me, with enough disgust to light a match to my ears.
Tension wraps my chest in a tight little ball, but I keep my face still. A year ago, I would’ve defended myself. I’ve since learned there’s little point in arguing with someone who’s learned everything about me from headlines.
So much for second chances.
“My island wasn’t as simple as you’re making it… But it was a mistake. One I won’t be repeating.”
Aurelius tilts his head. “Perhaps the mistake was that you weren’t as organized as you could be now.”
Hand dragging down my face, I laugh… Me. Unorganized.
“This is the value you can provide us, Sawyer Hansley. If you’re unwilling, I understand. But you will not be a brother in the Shadow Sanctum.”
I look up at the ceiling, the irony so bitter, so fuckingsharp, that I feel it cut my throat, cold, liquid copper chilling a path to my lungs. Of course,of coursethis would be what they want from me, what valueIcould bring. Not my intelligence, my wit, my creativity, but my … markedly misunderstood skills.
Seconds pass while I pretend I’m only considering it. It would break a promise I made myself, put a hitch in my attempt at becoming someone other than the billionaire with the kink island.
But… It's already done. I’m here.
If I’m lucky, I’ll be gone before it matters.
“It takes me three to six months of daily contact before a woman is ready to leave her former life… After that, I spend atleast a few days getting her settled before she’s ready to purify any souls.”
Aurelius nods. “We trust your methods… But, of course, the point of an initiation test is to challenge you. You won’t have six months. You’ll have three weeks.”
Air bursts past my lips. “Three weeks… I take it you don’t mind meth heads?”
His eyes narrow—part disdain, part confusion. The girl with the yellow skirt tilts her head at me, drawing my gaze like a magnet. Her eyes are just as bright as they were before. No disgust. No judgment.
