Penumbra (The Midnight Society #2)

by Logan Patricks

  Justin was tied to a funeral pyre; his feet buried beneath a mound of fresh kindling.

  “Justin, I’m sorry,” I sobbed.

  “No,” he repeated.

  The tears streaming down my face were endless.

  “I should have listened to you Justin. You were right all along.”

  “No.”

  I shook my head. “I want your forgiveness so badly, but I don’t deserve it, do I?”

  “No.”

  “I miss you. I wish I could hit rewind and pause it on that day you bought me a hamburger while we were doing our counterpoint assignment. As hard as life was back then, at least it all made sense.”

  “No,” he replied again.

  I wiped the tears from my eyes with the back of my hand. “Please, just say something else to me, anything else.”

  He looked at me, his eyes bloodshot from crying, and then he said, “Goodbye.”

  I watched in horror as slowly the peachy color of his flesh turned dark grey, like a piece of meat cooking over a flame. His entire body slowly transformed into ash. It wasn’t until I unleashed a scream, that Justin broke apart into smoky dust.

  I woke up on the couch, my heart racing, and my throat dry. How long had I been out for?

  Suddenly from inside the room of the tattoo parlor, I heard the muffled screams of someone.

  Was Lincoln in danger? Fuck, I should have known. I knew the hussy couldn’t be trusted the second I laid eyes on her.

  I grabbed the closest weapon I could find—a mop—and crept slowly towards the room. I had no idea what I was going to do if she was assaulting Lincoln. Maybe I’d scrub the bitchiness out of Juno’s face?

  The door was slightly ajar and I peered in.

  Juno wasn’t hurting Lincoln.

  Quite the opposite actually—they were having sex on the tattoo table.

  Lincoln’s sinewy arms, now decorated with breathtakingly intricate tattoos, were bulging as he propped the upper half of his body up while he thrust in and out of Juno. She clung onto his decorated arms, running her hands up and down the chorded muscle, while she begged for more.

  “You’re fucking tight,” he said between breaths. The sight of Lincoln’s lower region—the muscular v-thing that made girls like me go stupid—and the sound of it smacking into Juno’s naked body sparked a fire deep within me.

  I felt dirty, spying on their private encounter, but at the same time I was enthralled by it.

  The intensity of Lincoln’s eyes as he watched Juno being ravaged by his cock was hypnotizing.

  “Oh fuck, fuck,” Juno moaned with each powerful thrust. “Don’t fucking stop.”

  “I won’t until I have completely ruined you,” Lincoln hissed. He lifted himself off the table and turned Juno around so she was facing me now.

  I took one step back, concealing myself deeper within the darkness of the hallway. Juno’s eyes were closed, enjoying every moment of Lincoln’s dominance.

  I was wet. I had the urge to slip two fingers within me and satisfy my longing desire, while hiding in the darkness, watching these two fuck each other with reckless abandon.

  Lincoln’s hands found her breasts while he slammed into her from behind. I watched as his fingers pulled lightly on her pierced nipples, sending her into a fit of ecstasy. I closed my eyes and envisioned hands touching me in the same way, though I couldn’t tell whose hands they were.

  My hand trembled as I loosened the top button of my jeans.

  I needed to feel something else besides the pain lingering in my heart. Perhaps some pleasure would make me forget everything.

  I slipped my hand downwards as my finger grazed my clit.

  “You’re so damn hard,” Juno gasped.

  “And you’re my filthy girl,” he said. “Aren’t you?”

  “Yes. Fuck yes.”

  I opened my eyes and watched hungrily as Lincoln pulled harder on her nipples, causing her to scream. Her body bobbed up and down over his flesh, her movements rhythmic, the beautiful tattoos of flowers and birds on her body suddenly taking on new life from her organic movements.

  “You’re going to come for me,” Lincoln instructed.

  “I want you to come too,” she moaned.

  My fingers traced circles around my sex, illuminating my body with a warm, desirable glow while I pictured myself in Juno’s flesh.

  “You don’t tell me what to do. I’ll come whenever and wherever I please. I’ll come all over—Aria?...shit…” Realizing he just mentioned my real name, Lincoln paused and composed himself. “I mean areola. I’ll come all over your areola.”

  I was busted. Instinctively I pulled my hand out of my pants and felt immediate shame, like a child caught by their parents.

  Lincoln’s eyes locked with mine and for a moment, I couldn’t look away. Juno opened her eyes and stared in my direction as well.

  Well this was awkward.

  My eyes hit the floor instantly and I began scrubbing with the mop in my hands. I pretended to clean the grimy floors of the tattoo parlor, hoping it served as a good excuse as to why I was outside their door.

  I backed away from the scene slowly.

  I could only imagine how weird things were going to get with Lincoln after.

  Once you’ve seen someone naked, you could never look at them in the same light again.

  Juno was laughing, but that quickly changed into moans.

  I took a seat on the couch and knocked my fist against my forehead, while the words ‘stupid, stupid, stupid,’ played in my head on repeat.

  Five minutes later, I heard a chorus of moans that signaled the climax of their tattoo parlor sex session.

  It wasn’t long before Lincoln strolled out of the room, topless, and staring at the tattoos on his arms. He stood in front of one of the mirrors and examined the southern inspired artwork inked on his chiseled body, the Fleur-de-lis displayed predominantly above his right pec. Over the left one, there was a large tattoo that practically radiated, one displaying a crescent moon with a face in it. The moon was frowning like he had his heart broken. There were symbols written underneath it that I couldn’t make out.

  I’d have to ask Lincoln about it later.

  “What do you think?” he asked, pretending like I didn’t just witness him screwing Juno’s brains out on her tattoo table. I guess he was going to play this one cool, like it never happened.

  Juno strolled out of the room, fully clothed, with a wide grin on her face.

  “That was great, Dorian,” she exclaimed, shooting me a joyous look. “You really hit the right spot.” Her eyes never left me while she spoke.

  “I assume you just broke over fifty health violations,” I stated.

  Juno shrugged as she wrapped herself around Lincoln’s body, like a snake coiled around a tree branch.

  “You going to report me?” she asked.

  I was about to retaliate, but Lincoln was quick to hush us both.

  “Relax you two,” he said. “I have a lot to do already. The last thing I want to add onto my list is babysitting. Juno, stop harassing Lucy. It was part of the agreement.”

  “Whatever you say,” she said, scowling at me.

  I rolled my eyes and plopped myself back down onto the couch.

  “Are we done here?” I asked.

  Lincoln shook his head. “The piercings, and then we’re done.”

  It took another ten minutes for Juno to pierce both his ears with the needle. When she was finished, Lincoln wet his hair, and slicked it back.

  He observed himself in the mirror.

  “A bit of trimming off the sides, and a five o’ clock shadow and I think I’m set,” he said as he turned to me. “What do you think Lucy?”

  “You definitely look different,” I replied. “More edgy looking, if that’s what you’re going for.”

  Lincoln turned his attention back into the mirror, rubbed his chin, and grinned.

  “Good,” he said, “Sometimes a bit of change is just what we need to contin
ue living.”

  Chapter Seven

  Shadow

  “I want you to give me Elena Zhao,” I stated bluntly. “I want you to put me in a room with her. In exchange, I will give the Triad an empire.”

  “It is funny how things changed so quickly in a matter of weeks, Mr. Tremaine,” Tsung said, raising the steaming noodles to his mouth with a pair of wooden chopsticks. He slurped them like a heathen, the translucent grease dripping from his fat lips.

  “Nothing’s changed, Tsung,” I said as I sipped my tea.

  It was a cold night. It usually was in Hong Kong, after an evening storm. The air was cool and damp and I felt a wet chill that soaked right down into my bones.

  I placed my hands in my pockets and watched as the fat man devoured his large bowl of wonton soup. He had the physique of an overstuffed turkey and his greasy long hair and paper thin moustache added to his unsavory appearance.

  We sat in the center of one of Kwonloon’s many outdoor street vendors. I felt exposed.

  The thought of being double-crossed during my meeting with the Triad wasn’t too far-fetched. However, I had no other choice but to take my chances with them.

  Tsung had brought an entourage of eight men, all sitting at adjacent tables, their eyes focused on me. They were anxiously waiting for orders to be given, their hands buried within their coats, clutching weapons no doubt.

  I hoped the offer I made to the Triad was one that was too good to pass up—one that would keep me alive.

  This was the dark side of the Midnight Society’s business. These were the types of people we had to deal with at times.

  Tsung polished off the last of the noodles and let out a gluttonous sigh of satisfaction. Just as I thought he was finished eating, he raised the bowl to his mouth and chugged down the leftover soup in one remaining gulp.

  “Best noodles in town,” he said when he was finished, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. “Are you sure you didn’t want some?”

  “I’ll pass,” I said. “Watching you eat made me lose my appetite.”

  Tsung snorted. “You always were cocky, Shadow. No respect for your elders.”

  “You met me only once,” I stated. “Let’s not pretend you know me.”

  The fat man leaned back in the plastic chair and rested his left hand on the table, tapping it with his fingers.

  “Why are you here?” he asked.

  “To do business.”

  “I must admit, I was surprised to hear from you,” Tsung said. “Usually your people get one of your errand boys to come speak to me.”

  “I can’t trust them anymore.”

  “Of course you can’t,” Tsung said with a grin. “Your offer is very intriguing Shadow, but there is one fundamental flaw to it.”

  He paused, looking at me with his cat-like eyes, waiting for a response from me.

  I decided to take another sip of my tea instead.

  “You’re not curious to know what that flaw is?” Tsung asked.

  I shrugged my shoulders.

  “Well I’ll tell you then,” he said.

  “Okay.”

  “The Triad does not work for the Midnight Society anymore,” he stated. “Your organization has no power to implement what you proposed.”

  I set the cup of tea down, rose from my seat and walked behind Tsung. He eyed me suspiciously.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Cutting through the bullshit,” I replied as I kicked the seat out from under him. He crashed to the ground like the sack of MSG he was. His goons immediately rose from their chairs but made no move to approach me.

  That’s what I thought.

  “You dare lay your hands on me?” Tsung screamed, scrambling back to his feet.

  “I didn’t lay my hands on you,” I corrected him. “I kicked your chair.”

  Tsung walked up to me, hellfire in his eyes, and tried to stare me down. It was a difficult task for Tsung, seeing as how I had a good six inches on him.

  “You are nothing, Shadow,” he spat. “Your organization is gone, stripped away from you by your own sister. You’ve been castrated. You have no more power.”

  “And neither do you,” I said.

  Tsung seethed. “You would disrespect the Triads in our own territory?”

  “No,” I said. “I disrespect you.”

  I turned to the rest of Tsung’s men and grinned. “Who’s in charge?” I asked.

  “Have you lost your mind?” Tsung asked. “I’m in charge. I’ve always been in charge.”

  I laughed. “The Midnight Society practically invented the art of deception,” I said. “You are just an oily man who sloughs down noodles and puts on a terrible song and dance.” I turned and faced the other Triad members. “You have to remember that first and foremost, I’m a businessman, and a resourceful one at that. The Midnight Society keeps extensive records of all the organizations we have under our umbrella—the Triad being one of them. I investigated your organization, analyzing the data on all your businesses—legal and illegal—as well as your numbers, profit margins, and economic growth. After five years of stagnant growth, I noticed that in 2009, your monthly profit margins began to increase at an exponential rate. Your portfolio also diversified, expanding into business investments and real estate.”

  I looked at Tsung. “We all know that baby beluga over here doesn’t have the smarts to expand the Triad into these territories,” I said. Tsung’s nostril’s flared. I ignored him and continued. “I also know that gangsters are loyal to the person that gives them a bigger paycheck. You have a new boss, one that’s kept himself well hidden. I want to speak to him.”

  After a short moment of silence, one of Tsung’s entourage stepped forward. He was younger than I expected.

  He was handsome, sporting short cropped hair and a clean shaven face. What truly surprised me was that he was of mixed ethnicity, with rosy cheeks and distinctive blue eyes that set him apart from other Chinese.

  When it came to race, the Triads were typically old school and traditional. They didn’t like half-bloods or “white devils”, as they called them, being a part of their organization. Whoever this guy was, he was either an absolute genius, or extremely dangerous. Perhaps he was both.

  The man walked up to me and extended his hand. “Nathan Tse,” he said.

  I eyed him suspiciously, before shaking his hand.

  “How about we go for a walk, Shadow?” he asked, “Just the two of us.” He looked back at the rest of his men and gestured for everyone to sit down again.

  I nodded. “I can’t say no, can I?”

  “No, you can’t,” Nathan smiled. He definitely wasn’t a traditional gangster. I could tell from the way he presented himself.

  I needed to know more about him. I needed to see if he was a potential ally down the road. But first, I had to make sure Calisto didn’t have the Triad in her pocket already.

  Nathan gestured towards the Temple Street Night Market, across from the street diner. Crowds of people were filing in and out of the entrance to the marketplace with plastic bags in hand, filled with food, clothing, and other merchandise.

  “Shall we?”

  I nodded.

  “Are you surprised that I’m a half-devil?” Nathan asked, as we stepped into the outdoor market.

  I shrugged my shoulders. After the shocking revelation that Calisto had murdered our parents, I felt prepared for anything.

  “I have to admit, I was surprised about recent changes to the Midnight Society, that it no longer exists,” Nathan continued.

  “The Midnight Society still exists,” I replied. “We’re just streamlining.”

  Nathan laughed. “I won’t pry into family disputes between you and your sister, but I will say this: The Triad is not too happy with the recent change in direction Calisto and her Revenants have forced on us.”

  “Elena Zhao,” I stated.

  Nathan nodded. “Elena Zhao.” He walked over to one of the vendors selling an assortmen
t of foods. He pulled out his wallet and purchased two skewers filled with steaming balls of meat.

  “Curry fish balls,” Nathan said as he handed one stick over to me. “I insist.”

  I took it. “Thanks.”

  “Always one of my favorites,” he said as he took a bite from his snack.

  “How is it?”

  “I’m sure it’s not the savory meal you high society are used to, but it hits the spot,” he said, waiting for me to take a bite.

  I did.

  It wasn’t half bad.

  We continued walking through the market, passing by vendors selling wooden jewelry, scarves, plastic toys, and other varieties of accessories.

  When Nathan was finished with his snack, he tossed the bare stick into a garbage can, and turned to me.

  “I’ll be honest with you Shadow, I do not enjoy doing business with Elena Zhao,” he stated. “She is a shake-down artist, increasing the kickbacks to the Revenants by almost twenty percent. At least with the Midnight Society, the Triad could still earn a decent living. She is also vocal about how my organization should be run and sticks her nose into my business more often than I’d like.”

  “She’s a bitch,” I agreed.

  “The fact of the matter is, she looks down on Triad,” Nathan said. “She thinks she’s better than us with her clean money, her high society lifestyle, and the fact that she’s a high ranking member of the Revenants.” Nathan paused and took a deep breath. “She does have a point with her thinking though,” he continued. “She is better than the Triads.”

  I was puzzled.

  “The days of the gangster are numbered,” he explained. “The world has evolved, and so too must our ways to make money. Holding a knife to someone’s throat simply doesn’t work anymore. This is where your offer is most intriguing, if you can deliver what you promised.”

  “I can.”

  Nathan smirked as he stopped by a vendor selling plastic toy knock-offs—Superb Man, Transmorphers, and G.I. Jacks to name a few.

  “I can’t just take your word for it,” Nathan said as he picked up a Transmorpher and examined it. “I need to know how you will free the Triads from the Revenants, the Midnight Society, and whoever else decides to sit on that throne. I need to know how you’ll free the Triads from your secret organizations.”