Page 27 of The Cult

“Not much, really.” Sterling shrugged. “He’s hardly here. I’ve only seen him twice.”

Another wrinkle in my plan, I thought to myself, feeling a pang of frustration. The unexpected turn of events had thrown a wrench in my carefully laid-out strategy, forcing me to reassess my next steps. I made a mental note to ask Zero about Ti and his whereabouts when he wasn’t in The Creed.

“This is the gym,” Sterling said, pointing at the partially open door. The room was filled with the relentless thud of punches, moans, and grunts from the young men clustered in the middle pushing their bodies to the limit.

I watched from the sidelines as the trainers put them through their paces. I couldn’t help but feel a sickening knot in my stomach while I observed Abel. He was nowhere near ready for any fight. He had all the strength but lacked form and discipline. If only they knew.

I elbowed Sterling to get his attention. “Hey,” I began tentatively. “How do you become one of those?” I pointed at two jacked coaches.

“You mean a trainer?”

I nodded.

“They’re just guards who volunteered. Nothing special, really,” Sterling explained. “They’re doing a great job, I think.”

“They are.” I didn’t doubt that, but Abel could benefit from tailored one-on-one coaching. How could I voice that without sounding too obvious? “Do you think I could try?”

“Try what?”

“Training them.”

Sterling raised an eyebrow. “You know martial arts?”

“You could say that.” Hand-to-hand combat was one of my specialties; my preference was to fight, as I could use my strength and size to my advantage.

“Hmm.” Sterling scanned the fighters in the ring.

“I could get them ready faster.”

“We’ll need Orcus’s approval for that.”

“Can you make the call?” I doubted Orcus would object if it was to benefit his fighters. Plus, he’d said, anything I want.

“Gimme a sec.” Sterling reached for his radio then left the gym to make the call.

While I waited for a response, my apprehension grew, regretting my decision to ask to be entangled in these young men’s lives. I was here for a mission and getting involved would only complicate things. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that I needed to do something. This is for my best friend.

The guard coaching Abel threw him off balance when he maneuvered his leg between Abel’s, tripping him to the ground. Classic inside trip. Abel struggled to get back on his feet after the surprise move. He should’ve seen that move coming. The blow he sustained to his knee didn’t deject him, but his determination appeared to be intact.

Sterling returned. “Orcus said you can coach them.”

“Can I start right now?” I started walking across the room before Sterling could answer, ready to do whatever was needed to turn these guys into fighters—especially Abel.

All eyes were on me when I interrupted their practice. The one pair I was particularly curious about was Abel’s, who was giving me a what-the-fuck-are-you-doing look.

“Listen up,” Sterling said from behind. “This is Toby, and Orcus has tasked him to get y’all prepared.”

“Prepared for what?” the biggest guy asked, wiping his sweaty forehead with his forearm.

“You’ll find out later,” one of the trainers answered.

Abel’s attention was like a laser beam. I was thankful that he remained silent, keeping the promise he made last night about my identity. I needed Orcus’s and the guards’ trust until I was ready to strike.

I wasted no time in getting involved. Starting with Abel, who was now standing by the corner in front of the smudged tan punching bag suspended from a metal post. “I got it from here.” I tapped the trainer who had been practicing with Abel on the back.

The trainer, a burly man with a no-nonsense demeanor, scratched his beard. He studied me with suspicion before moving on to the next guy.

Abel stalked every move I made with a stern face.

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