Page 80 of The Devil

My hand tightens around the doorknob. “Spit it out then,” I say, feeling in my gut whatever he’s about to say is bad. Very bad. “Just fucking spit it out.”

“You know Grandfather was blackmailing those… animals.”

I nod tightly.

“There was one whose face I saw.”

My hand slips from the doorknob. The world tilts just for a moment.

“He is… was… a member of The Society. A high-ranking member.”

Cold sweat covers me and my heart thuds slow and hard. I’ve always said I wanted to know who. To see their faces so I could kill them. But hearing this? It just takes me back.

“Was?” I hear myself ask in a voice I don’t recognize.

“He’s dead. And I think if they ever learn the identities of the others, they too will be dead. I believe that.”

“Well, I’ll give them a gold star then,” I say, letting anger take over. “What does this have to do with anything now?”

“They sent it to me”

“Sent what to you? Just fucking spit it out. Stop being so fucking cryptic.”

“The killing, Jet. They sent me a video of it, audio and all. It was a warning. What they could do. Would do. That’s why I was so desperate to get hold of you when you left Devil’s Peak.”

“What?”

“When you wouldn’t answer your phone. When I had no idea where you fucking were.”

My hands are fists at my sides, nails digging into flesh. Somewhere in my head, I hear that watch keeping time.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Did he know, my grandfather, that it didn’t matter when it stopped because for me, it was never over. Never.

And hearing this, feeling my throat close up, it’s like I’m right back there. Back in that room. Naked. Terrified. Knowing what was to come. Knowing there was no way to escape it. And I was desperate to escape. However escape looked.

“Show me. Show me the video. Show me his face.”

“That’s not why I’m telling you,” Sev says, taking two steps toward me. “He’s dead. He doesn’t matter.”

“He matters to me.”

“Brother.” He shakes his head, starting to unbutton his shirt. “That’s not why I’m telling you,” he annunciates slowly.

“Then why?” My voice is unrecognizable. Hollow. My brother tugs his shirt out of the waistband of his slacks.

I watch, but it’s like I’m not me. Like I’ve left my body and am watching these two men, these strangers, from above. I learned to do that after the first year. I’m very sure it’s how I survived.

“Because you have to understand how dangerous these men are. How ruthless.” With that, he tugs his shirt down to expose his chest.

At first, I’m unsure what I’m looking at. I step closer, my gaze locked on that spot. On the ruin of skin spanning the center of his chest.

“What the hell?” I ask, coming closer.

“Grandfather had me tattooed when I turned seventeen. He’d have done the same to you.”

I meet his gaze, remembering seeing that tattoo. The mark of The Society. My grandfather had it too.