Page 90 of Soulless Deeds

“He’s one of Maximus’ lapdogs,” I said, stepping slightly in front of her. “The last one left in his trusted inner circle.”

Aster sipped from a full martini glass as her eyes razed over Verus’ crumpled form. “He has all the information we need. I saved him for last.”

Verus remained silent, watching and assessing our every move. He’d been a part of the underworld for many years, and subjected countless others to the tortures of our lives. He didn’t have to be smart to know that he wasn’t making it out of there alive.

Then, Emerson’s soft voice raised from the other side of Spencer. “What equipment do you have? He won’t crack unless your methods are severe. The Ludus train their soldiers well. It took me hours to break Titus, and in the end, I couldn’t do it alone.”

My lids rapidly blinked on the petite blonde, my mind doing a double take to ensure I wasn’t hallucinating. The meaning behind her violent words was disproportionate to her saintly image.

Verus sat up after her statement, palms raised to appear as a non-threat. But despite his aged, wrinkled appearance, no one was deceived, everyone in the room fully aware how dangerous those hands could be, a deathly weapon all on their own.

“No need for torture just yet. Let’s talk like civilised people, aye?” His eyes bounced from one to the other until they settled on Psycho. “You got a cigar anywhere in this rich, shiny place, boy?”

“It’s her place,” Psycho said, referring to Aster. “Maybe, if you ask her nicely, she’ll give you one.”

Aster gave a shining smile. “Call me Mistress, and I just might.”

“How about this, then, Mistress? For the duration it takes me to smoke one cigar, you can ask me any question you like. After that, you can do whatever you want. Torture me, kill me. I have nothing to live for anyway.”

Spencer leant into Emerson’s side, lowering her voice into a whisper. “Depressing old man. If I ever get like that, kill me.”

We’d relocated to the balcony, sprawled in front of our prisoner in various positions, the foot of the cigar toasted ember while Verus sucked. He sat alone on a white leather couch, the bannister at his back giving a clear, unobstructed view of the countless spires shaping the distant horizon, sunshine beating down on his wrinkled face as he considered his audience.

And when his gaze hit Spencer, I’d never been more grateful for her fear of heights. Refusing to breach the threshold of the glass doors, she leant against the doorway instead. The further away she was from Verus, the better.

“Go ahead,” he said, tipping his head back as if on a throne. My jaw ticked. I didn’t know why the fuck we were accommodating the senior citizen and his requests, but it wasn’t my show to dictate—yet.

“Where is Gannicus? Is he dead?” Psycho asked, lighting his own cigarette. As pressing matters go, that wasn’t the first on the list, but I had to acknowledge that it was Psycho’s domain, and the Kings must be privy to information I was not aware of.

Verus shook his head. “Doctureis locked up and kept safe for the upcoming games.”

“What for? He should be training the new challengers.”

“Maximus has made his final move and turned on his last remaining family.” Verus delayed for a full second, puffing on the end of his stick. Gannicus was the infamous trainer to the Ludus gladiators, but most importantly, he was the nephew of Maximus himself. Not that you’d know it, vicious rumours constantly circulating of their absolute revulsion for one another.

Psycho looked on the verge of jumping Verus before he continued. “Gannicus is now a future challenger, the main spectacle in the next gladiator death match. Tonight.”

“Tonight?” Psycho scoffed. “The games aren’t due for months.”

“Things have changed, boy. Maximus moved them up in honour of a special guest.”

“Special guest? Let me guess, that bitch running Khaos?”

Verus raised a foot to rest above his knee like he had all the time in the world. “Theres a power imbalance, and Maximus has gone off the fucking deep end. He’s as crazy as those fuckers in Oakview.”

Micah sneered, and I straightened, taking over. “Is that why he’s targeting Vice?”

“Not Maximus, per se. That’s all Khaos. You know how to shove it to a bitch, don’t you? That little Appleberry situation cost you.”

Psycho ran an errant hand through his hair, pulling at the roots, his tone sceptical at best. “I never liked you, but I neverthought you'd squeal like a pig, either. You were always loyal to Maximus.”

“My friend died a long time ago.” Verus puffed again. “I don’t know who that person is.”

“Tell us what you know of Khaos and the woman who leads them,” Aster piped up from the side.

“Nothing. They have offshoots down there, in the Caverns, and have been utilising them for transport. For what and where to, I don’t know. Nobody does.” His muscles seemed to tighten from the declaration, friction on edge. “They’re up to something down there. Not just Amp—something more sinister. But Maximus has that shit locked up so tight, his fear has overridden any sense of reason. Ludus has firmly come to heel under that bitch’s heavy, demanding foot. An unseen cunt behind the scenes, pulling the strings of our fucking organisation!”

Tanner shifted, crossing his arms. “Time’s up. We’re going in during the gladiator games.” All Kings gave some form of acknowledgement, motions fully aligned.Trippy motherfuckers.

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