Page 14 of Power of Shadow

Slowly, I’m losing hope that I’ll ever see her again. Losing hope that my father left her alive and is just hiding her under the biggest and most concealed rock.

Buried in my thoughts, I feel a hand clench my shoulder. It’s Theo, trying to comfort me. He’s good at that, communicating without words.

“Something’s up,” Eli says. “Something’s coming our way, I can tell.”

“Does it ever change?” I don’t hide the irony.

“I saw the vice president’s statement this morning. The former vice president.” Theo changes the subject. “I saw the footage from Feather too. It's his own fault.”

“That’s exactly what I said. What can I say? He was careless and became inconvenient to the Pact. It was only a matter of time.” Eli snorts, unmoved. “A better question is what does your father want again, Ry? What is he up to now?”

“You won’t have to wait long. In a moment, you’ll see the face of the devil himself.”

We pull into the circular driveway in front of the colonial-style house. Of course, it’s all white with gray tiles, unchanged for as long as I can remember. Both outside and inside, it’s cold, impersonal—and dangerous.

On top of that, the house is huge. When I moved out, my father gained an extra room for his goons. And he’s surrounded by them up to his neck. After all, he rules the entire organization with an iron fist.

The Pact exists, has existed, and will probably continue to exist for a long time. Such organizations, secret societies, and brotherhoods can never be completely eradicated.

At the top of the food chain are people who aren’t only the most important controllers and managers of the Pact. They’re people who control the world in one way or another. The elite of the elite. They aren’t politicians, no.

It isn’t governments or presidents who rule the world, nor is it the Church or God Himself. Money—and those who have it—rules the world. Wealth not only provides opportunities that are unavailable to most people. It also provides power, connections, freedom, and absolute immunity.

Eli stops in the middle of the driveway, not giving a damn what my father will say. I get out and stand with my arms crossed, scanning the house. It’s already after 10:00 p.m., so some windows are lit, but there’s not a single soul in sight.

Yet, this house is so haunted that it would scare even Stephen King. My family home.

Home, sweet home.

Eli and Theo flank me. First, I look at one, then the other. “Let’s get this over with.”

“I get the creeps every time I cross the threshold of this house,” Eli mutters.

Arm in arm, we set off. Without bothering with knocking, we go inside. Theo, with a psychopathic smile, calls out, “Honey, I’m home!”

The door slams shut, trapping us in this cursed house. My smile is malicious, knowing that someone will lose their life today, since none of my father’s thugs even know we’re here.

Anyone could walk in right now. Even the fucking FBI.

I would be sitting in the front row with popcorn in my hand, watching my father being led away in handcuffs once again.

Once again? Of course. Except that he has never been kept for more than eight hours.

What a joke.

The sound of shuffling and footsteps on the stairs. First, Mike emerges from behind the kitchen door on the right, followed by Freddy running down the stairs, already holding a gun. No one really knows what the guy’s real name is, but he’s really fucking ugly. The nickname “Freddy” just stuck. He can be really scary at night.

They’re both big assholes, tattooed up to their jaws, with murderous looks in their eyes.

The third person jumps out from behind the door on the right, the one leading to the bathroom. With one hand, he holds his pants up at the waist, but they’re not buttoned, and in the other, he holds a butcher knife.

I don’t know this one at all. He’s not much older than me and is probably my father’s new hire.

“What the fuck?” asks the new asshole.

“Fuck, Ryker! I could’ve shot you,” Mike yells.

I doubt it, looking at this circus. Eli chuckles under his breath, and Theo growls.