Page 39 of Fangs & Freaks
My phone buzzes in my pocket, the shrill sound cutting me off mid-rant. Pulling it from my jeans, the display lights up, andI answer it without checking the number. “What?” I bark into the line.
“Pres, you need to get out here. Quick.” The voice on the other end is panicked, sharp with urgency. I look at my phone and see it’s Lazarus; one of the prospects at the gate.
“On my way.”
I slam the phone down and shoot Blackwell a look. He doesn’t need to be told twice. We’re out of the office and heading down to the gate in seconds, boots pounding against the pavement.
The scene we stumble into makes my stomach twist and my fangs protrude. One of the prospects lies crumpled on the ground, blood pooling beneath him. His head is missing. Just…gone.
“What the fuck?” I whisper, disbelief creeping in despite everything I’ve seen in this damn life. “Why decapitate a human? What kind of message is this?”
Blackwell steps closer, his eyes scanning the area. “Who is it?” he snaps, his tone colder than his grave.
Lazarus shifts nervously, his hand twitching toward his weapon like it’s some kind of comfort. “No clue, sir. He…he just showed up like this.”
“Who’s missing?” Blackwell demands.
“I–I don’t know!” Lazarus stammers, panic creeping into his voice.
“Find out. Now.”
Before I can ask Blackwell anything else, a sound splits the air—a roaring engine. A black van screeches toward the gate, tires kicking up gravel. The side door slides open before I can react, and something is dumped unceremoniously onto the ground.
The van peels off before I can even process what’s happening.
My gaze shifts down to the ground, where the object—no,thing—lies crumpled. It’s a bowling bag, the kind you’d see in any alley, unremarkable at first glance. But my instincts scream at me that something’s wrong.
I take a step forward, my pulse steady and calm in my ears, and drop to my knees beside the bag. My fingers, steady and precise, unzip it without hesitation. There’s no surprise, no sickness in my stomach—just a deep, knowing dread that settles into my bones as I open the flap.
The smell hits me first—blood, thick and metallic, but not repulsive. To me, it's almostcomforting, though I can feel the shift in the air, the subtle tension that tightens around us. I push the bag open further, and what I see inside is enough to make even me pause.
I know the scar on his left cheek, the way his hair fell across his forehead before it was matted with blood. His head—his poor, mutilated head—has been tossed to us like some sick offering.
Lucien.
Lucien was a new recruit who hadn’t even been with the Crimson Brotherhood for a few months. He was still proving himself, still on the fringes. The bastard who did this had to know that, had to know he wasn’t even fully in yet. He wasn’t even a true member. The thought feels like a slap to the face. Poor guy never stood a chance.
We’ll have to make sure his family is compensated, a heavy sum for their loss. They don’t deserve this—none of this was ever supposed to happen to Lucien.
I carefully reach forward, my fingers steady, and pull a blood-soaked note from his mouth, the edges sticking to his blood.
The words scrawled across the page are enough to make my vision blur with bloodlust:
"You took something of ours, and we want it back. To even the price, we took something of yours. Well, two somethings. Let the unicorn know if he wants his sister back, he’ll come to us. Willingly. If not... well, she’s not pure, but her pussy will make millions in the sex dungeon."
At the bottom, stamped in blood, is the crest of the Obsidian Circle.
“Cunts,” I whisper. “This just keeps getting worse and worse.”
I crumple the note in my fist and stand, the world tilting slightly as madness rushes through my body. “This is what happens when you fucking help people,” I mutter under my breath.
Blackwell steps up beside me, his jaw tight. “We need her. Now. We have to tell Varys about his sister.”
He doesn’t say her name, but we both know who he means. Bellonna. Bloody Mary. The unpredictable wildcard who dragged us all into an even bigger mess.
Well, helping Vienna is on us. But Varys summoned Bellonna, and we didn’t just hand him over when we realized what she wanted. Still…Bellonna could have just accepted that we saved Varys and moved on. After all, she did tell him she needed to think about it. Was he supposed to stay a caged test dummy until she made up her mind?
Calling her feels like playing with fire, but what choice do we have?
