Page 170 of Reckoning

“You touch one hair on her head…” I begin.

“Very fucking noble.” A man behind me spits. “But such declarations mean nothing if you’re lying dead on the ground.”

“What do you want?” I snarl.

He jabs the gun further into my neck, making a point with that gesture. I reluctantly let Magnus go and he draws in a deep breath before adjusting his coat, brushing off the dirt like that’s his only concern.

“We can come to an agreement.” Magnus says. “There’s no need for such measures.”

“You threaten her…”

He holds his hand up tutting. “I don’t give a shit about Sofia Montague. You can have her.”

“Then what do you want?” I ask.

“You. Roman. I want your businesses. I want your resources. I want it all.”

That makes me pause. I step back, and that gun that moments ago was pressed into my neck now finds a new home against my spine.

“You think we’ll just hand it all over?” I growl.

Magnus laughs. “You misunderstand, Koen.” He says. “We’re not looking totakefrom you. We wish to welcome you in.”

Welcome us? What the fuck does that mean?

The man behind me drops the weapon moving around to face me full on and my voice seems to die as I realise who it is. Barnaby Smith. Barnaby Fucking Smith?

“You impressed me.” He says in a voice so utterly different to the cancer ridden one I heard a month ago. “Such talents deserved to be rewarded.”

“You want us to join you?” I repeat. Is this some sort of trick?

“It is not a wish.” Magnus says. “It is your only option. You killed one of us. Ordinarily, that crime has one punishment. But we will overlook that in the circumstances if…”

“If we become one of you.” I reply.

They both nod. Like fucking dogs.

I look between them, wondering if this is some sort of joke. I’ve never been one for secret societies, cults, any of that shit. I don’t give a damn about politics, or who is President, or anything beyond my own businesses. But what they’re offering, what this could mean.

“Have you spoken to Roman?” I ask. Not that it should matter what he says and yet we share this company together. He technically has as much say as I do.

Magnus shakes his head. “We figured you would do the dirty work for us.”

I grunt. Fucking typical. Is that how they plan this then, us doing the work and them profiting?

When I voice that they both laugh once more.

“Come to London.” Magnus says, handing me a card. “Meet the Brethren, and then you’ll truly understand the gift we’re offering.”

It doesn’t sound like an invitation. It sounds exactly what it is. An order. Go and live, refuse and die.

I draw myself up, turn my back on them both and head down the same path I entered by.

When walk into the Penthouse, Sofia is awake, stood, staring out of the windows with a glass of water in her hand and a robe wrapped around herself. She’s still not properly healed. She’s still fragile, and though I’ve been dying to touch her, I know I can’t, not yet anyway.

She turns, fixing those beautiful eyes on me with a questioning gaze.

“I needed some fresh air.” I murmur.

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