Page 28 of He Who Sleeps

Chapter 11

Emerson jogged downthe steps to their well, intent on seeing for himself if the reports were true. The wells, which were placed in different properties around the world, served as a direct descent to their sleeping god, a way for both matter and energy to make it to him. The well at the Allegheny property was the newest, only coming online in the time of their fathers and, in truth, their fathers had only visited it once.

Originally, they had used the well in the city, in the brownstone that they had caught Petra at, but after that The Order thought it prudent to move all sacrifices out of the city itself, and demolished the building and the well.

A rotunda, the entrance to the space, was open to the south which tracked with The Order’s normal architecture. Cobblestones inlaid with their god’s divine language ringed the stone well, with a high stone dome over it, allowing for the elements to never reach He Who Sleeps. Datura covered the low walls and ran along the ledges of the four openings, windows to the cardinal points, giving a dreamy look to the place, the scent cloying and not at all unpleasant.

The space was beautiful, as deceptive and deadly as the men that made devotion here. He approached the round well, slightly off center toward the north, giving more space before it, and looked down. He had seen the well in the Balkans, the glowing mass that did not look like water, but oil, sparkles and fog, as it churned further down the hole. Their well was high with energy already, and indeed churning and frothing. He Who Sleeps was dreaming, enjoying what he saw.

Emerson’s father had always said that blood sacrifice was paltry compared to what came with compliance and acceptance, and it seemed that was correct. As a group, they had already made seven blood sacrifices before Petra, and they were all high level in terms of energy yield, but nothing close to what they got from her last year. This year, their eleventh, had already exceeded their first seven years combined, and Petra’s willingness and compliance...it was far too much of a coincidence.

The glow coming up from the well illuminated the space well enough that he saw Leo as he walked down the stairs. It seemed his brother was intent on seeing the well for himself.

"Is it frothing?" Leo asked, coming to stand beside him and peering over the edge. "Damn...it didn't look like this when we sacrificed this morning. It must take a little while to reach him down there."

“Fucking crazy, right?” Emerson sighed. “But it makes sense. I mean, we all kinda wanna keep her, even Snake, though he can’t reconcile that. And she wants us. Maybe that’s the difference. Maybe emotion makes it better.”

"I absolutely believe that's what's made the difference this year," Leo agreed. "As for Snake, it's not about reconciling it. It's about permanence. He can be with us because we're forever. The Dark God is forever. The Order is forever. Yeah, we'll die one day, but for now he's safe from any kind of abandonment. Petra...he has a point. She's all in. This proves she's all in." He waved a hand at the well. "But she has only been with us seven nights total. It's not a lot of time, even when you know it's right."

“He’s been with her least,” Emerson said. “So yeah, I can understand it. But if she’s got the chance to be with him, with all of us...” He looked to Leo as he leaned against the well. “She’s worth the option. Even if she’s not seen our faces yet.” He swallowed. Lord but he wanted to tell Leo.

"She's seen mine." Leo just said it casually like it wasn't fucking mind-blowing. "I mean, she didn't really give me much of a choice—just yanked it right off my face mid-fuck. I didn't tell anyone because I wasn't sure what the deal was, but Devil seemed down with the idea of approaching the Elders about her, so no one has to die for it."

Emerson laughed. “She’s seen mine, too.” He grinned. “Ripped it off mid-fuck as well.” He laughed harder. “Saucy brat. But it tells me she’s serious about playing for keeps with us. She knew she was risking death by pulling that kind of stunt. Which...” He trailed off, shaking his head. “How the fuck did we just happen upon a girl that wants any of this? I mean we are all serious fuck ups.”

"Speak for yourself," Leo snorted. "I'm fucking awesome. It's impossible not to notice. Maybe that's why she wants to stick around."

“She said something to me this morning,” Emerson looked down at his hand, “that two nights a year she gets to feel alive. We do that to her. She said that we woke something up in her that was needy and needed us.” He looked up to Leo. “We need her, Leo. We all need her.” He grinned. “You went to her this evening, didn’t you?”

"Of course I did." Leo smirked. "I wanted to know what was going on in that pretty little head of hers." He shook his head. "She played a dangerous game. Imagine if she'd tried to pull the mask off one of the others? Snake would have lost his shit. He might even have killed her."

“I think she actually might have with Snake,” Emerson said. “He’s acting way too twitchy with this, and I mean he’s twitchy normally, but...” he shrugged. “I don’t think it’s us. I mean did you have any idea she did it with me? Fuck, I’m more worried about her exposing Plague or Ghost...”

"I did think Snake was acting weird last night, but I figured it was because the whole vibe felt different," Leo said thoughtfully. "Maybe you're right and she did try it with him. Silly girl. That could have gone very wrong." He took a deep breath and rolled his neck, stretching his arms to loosen the tension in his body. "Now that we've spoken about it and it might be an option, do you still think the others will freak if she tries her games on them?"

“Goblin...nah, he’s fucking fiending for her to know him. Plague...” he shrugged. “He keeps everything so close to the vest, I can’t be sure. He wants her, though. Remember last year, after his final scene with her when he was waxing poetic about the photos he took of her? But Ghost... He’s my brother, but Stephan ensured he’s completely unhinged. I don’t know.” Ghost’s lack of female involvement in his growing up, along with being left with an out and out sociopath for a father, turned him in a cross between Patrick Bateman and Billy Loomis.

"Surely if Devil is on board, Ghost won't do anything off the wall," Leo reasoned. "And when we talked about trying to be with her over dinner, he said he was in. So he's not going to completely lose his shit. I don't know. Maybe we should have warned her."

“Maybe. And Ghost’s problem isn’t that he doesn’t want her; he does, desperately. Fuck, you know he’s rented that apartment across from her to watch her at night. The problem is he might not want her toseewho he is. You know his kink is as wrapped up in his chase fantasies as his anonymity.” He sighed. “But Devil, if he’s in... Ghost will fall in line. The question is, will Devil tell him?”

"He did at dinner." Leo shrugged. "He was pretty clear that he's going to talk to the Elders about it. I'm sure Ghost can figure out some other way to get his kink on. If she thinks she might lose him and, by extension, us, she might stop with the sassy bullshit and actually take instructions."

“True. Though I meant if she unmasks Devil, will he tell Ghost? I mean, she’s with them right now.” He looked down to his watch. “Just jumped into it with Ghost, actually.” Walking over to the east side of the rotunda, he looked out toward where the spire of the cathedral peeked over the trees. Devil had planned his seduction there, and Ghost would have her scared out of her wits running through the graveyards to escape him, probably ending the night in his favorite mausoleum. “I’m going last tonight. Is Plague or Goblin next?” He turned. “Or is it you?”

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