Page 137 of Depravity

Her eyes dart to him, she shows more disdain as she meets his gaze. “Brynn isn’t a Monclere,” She says, like that’s new information.

“She’s an Asher,” I reply, taking the heat right out of her sails. At least, that’s what I think.

Beside me, Antonio seems to stiffen but I don’t take my focus off her. Lucas Asher is notorious enough to explain that reaction anyway. The bastard had to do a runner years ago, after he wascaught running a paedophile ring out of one of the Houses of Eden.

She turns her eyes on me. “She’s a Founder.” She declares.

And it feels like the entire room stills.

“What?” I stammer. A Founder? Is that true? The Ashers are Founders? No, it can’t be.

None of us know who the Founders are, we only know they exist. Seven original families. Seven pure bloodlines. We’re all kept in the dark to keep them safe. If an outsider, a genteel wanted to bring the entire Brethren down, that’s who they’d go for. Every Chapter has their own set of Founders. Every country, it spreads out like a spider’s web. But if Brynn is one…

“Her father is Lucas Asher,” Antonio states, putting it together, bringing me out of my thoughts.

I nod back, but even now my head feels like it’s going at a million miles a minute. Brynn has Founder blood?

“See?” The girl gloats looking right back at me. “Your marriage isn’t valid.”

“She is my wife.” I growl back. I don’t give a fuck what anyone says. I consummated our marriage, I fucked her good and proper against that altar, and I still have the cloth to prove it. “My fucking wife.”

“And it makes little difference.” Antonio adds, “Once Magnus is Chapter Lord, he can sanctify whatever he wants.”

“He won’t make Chapter Lord,” She says. “We will see to that.”

“Over my dead body,” I don’t think, I just react, slamming her against the wall by her throat. Her fat little legs kick out, her body jerks but I press all my weight in.

“Tell me where my wife is.”

“Go. To. Hell,” She gasps back.

“Conrad,” Antonio says, quietly. “If it is true, if Brynn is an Asher…”

“Then what?” I snarl. Like I give a fuck who her parents were in this moment. I just want her back. I need her back.

“The Ashers own property in the Black Country. A lot of property.”

“Meaning?”

He glances at the girl who’s growing more and more red in the face as I restrict her oxygen.

“The Esau have a few secure bases there, I can make a reasonable guess as to where they would be hiding.”

“Reasonable?” I repeat. Like I want to go traipsing halfway around the country, from house to bloody house. Besides, they’ll get wind of us coming. If we don’t hit the right house straight away, they’ll do a runner. They’ll take my Brynn, and they’ll disappear.

“Leave me with her.” Antonio says, fixing his eyes on the maid.

“What?”

His hand wraps around my arm. He squeezes just enough to emphasise his point. “Give me an hour.”

I don’t want to do it, I don’t want to let go. I want to torture the bitch myself. I want to rip every bit of flesh from her body, I want to pull out her fingernails, I want to cut off her eyelids, I want to hurt her so badly she can’t even speak her own name.

And yet, I could do all of that and still not get the answer I need.

“Give me an hour.” Antonio repeats in a tone that tells me he knows something I don’t.

The sound of the engine seems to roar in my ears. I don’t give a fuck that it might give us away.

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