Circle of Death

by Colleen Masters

  “So then why—?” I begin.

  “I was sent for you,” Emma whispers urgently. She reaches into her tiny beaded clutch and produces a nondescript piece of paper. “Sent with this message. She said you were in trouble, and there was no other way to reach you, so—”

  “Who’s she?” I cut in.

  “See for yourself,” Emma replies, thrusting the letter into my hands.

  With my heart wedged firmly in my throat, I open the note and begin to read. Hasty writing is scrawled across the page—I have to struggle to make out the message.

  L—

  Elliot here. If you’re reading this, it means that Emma has succeeded in finding you. I reached out to her with this message, knowing she would be able to make it to The Club without attracting attention. I couldn’t send an email or text because my company watches my every move online, so I went to your address hoping to find someone.

  I’ll be brief: you are in terrible danger. Your assignment with FootSoldier was a trap, one I’m ashamed to have been a part of. You were sent to me by The Leviathan Corporation to be used as leverage against Devlin Vile in their ongoing pursuit of his club’s services. They chose you based on a series of personality tests that were administered to you through a bought-off professor in your school. Your test results and physical type were deemed a perfect match for Vile’s personality and preferences.

  Leviathan brought you and Vile to The Club knowing that you would fall for each other, and that they could then use you to persuade him. Hurt him. I’m sorry I’ve led you into this awful trap. I was once in your position—tricked by Leviathan into destroying a man I’d come to care for. Since then, I’ve been a captive of the corporation, forced to send so many girls off to similar fates. But not anymore. If I can intervene before Leviathan destroys you, maybe I’ll be one step closer to forgiveness for all the wrong I’ve done. Probably, they’ll kill me for getting this message to you. Probably I deserve it.

  You’re not safe anywhere on that island. Leviathan owns The Club itself, and all the people who work there. They use The Club as a staging ground for just this sort of trap. They lure mainland girls in by word of mouth, and drug them on the boat ride over. Did you notice how wasted everyone got after one or two drinks on the trip over? These are sadistic motherfuckers. You have to go, Logan. Run and don’t look back. You may still have a shot.

  Good Luck—E

  I stare down at Elliot’s message as the world spins madly on around me. It’s too much to take in, too much to believe all at once. But before the whole truth even settles upon me, I know that what she’s written is true. My intuition was right after all. We’re all in serious danger.

  “Logan,” I hear Juliet say tentatively. Her voice comes to me as if from a great distance. “Logan, who is this? What’s going on?”

  “I’m Emma,” my best friend says to my sister. “You must be Juliet. Logan’s told me...so much about you.”

  “Huh” Juliet says, folding her arms across her chest. “She hasn’t mentioned you at all.

  Shaking with the impact of Elliot’s letter, I finally will myself to look up at Emma and Juliet. They eye each other suspiciously, sizing each other up. But my gaze is dragged away from their tense stare-down as I notice the half dozen other bodies that have just appeared on the dock. All of Devlin’s brothers have gathered here under the cover of darkness. The entire Circle of Death has congregated...except its most important member.

  “What are they all doing here?” I ask Juliet in a whisper. I know they’re not just wishing me bon voyage.

  “I...have no idea,” Juliet replies, her brow furrowing. “Babe, what the hell is going on? We don’t need the entire club to make sure Logan gets on that yacht.”

  “Devlin will explain everything when he gets here,” Packer says, laying a hand on my shoulder. I knock it away, panic building in my chest.

  “Where is he? Where’s Dev?” I ask urgently, clutching Elliot’s letter in a tight fist.

  “He should be here. Any second.” Packer says, shoving a hand through his sandy blonde hair. “He must have gotten held up somewhere.”

  The brothers glance around with mounting anxiety as Titan reappears at the end of the dock. Only now, his lantern has been snuffed.

  “Are you all ready to do this thing?” the giant asks gruffly. “Your window is closing fast, my friends.”

  “What thing is he talking about?” I ask Packer.

  “I’m pretty curious myself,” Juliet adds.

  “Logan,” Emma whispers. “I didn’t read your letter or anything, but the woman who sent me made it pretty clear that we should peace the fuck out of here.”

  “Your little friend has it right,” Packer finally tells the three of us girls. “Something’s rotten on this here rock. Devlin rounded us up this morning to say as much. It’s not just you who’s getting on that yacht, Logan. We all are. We’re gonna take it out to our own boat and beat it the fuck back to headquarters.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?” Juliet asks, hurt by Packer’s omission.

  “Dev wanted Logan to keep on thinking they were through,” Packer says, avoiding my eyes. “There are some fuckers from Leviathan here at The Club who were threatening to hurt Logan if Dev didn’t cooperate. It had to look like Logan was no longer attached to Dev, or else anything could have happened. And if they were going to come for Logan, you would have been next, babe. We had to keep you girls in the dark. But now you know, and it’s time to move.”

  “Leviathan isn’t just here at The Club,” I whisper, my eyes wide. “The Club belongs to Leviathan. If Devlin isn’t here, like he said he would be, it means they have him.”

  “What are you talking about, Leviathan owns The Club?” Packer asks, “Logan, what—?”

  But before he can spit out of the last of his words, I’m off like a shot. I drop my bags and Elliot’s letter onto the creaky dock as my feet carry me away from the gathered brothers, away from the yacht, away from any hope of an easy escape. Devlin is somewhere on this island, and I know in my heart that he’s in dire peril.

  “Logan, stop!” Juliet shouts, trying to grab me as I dash past.

  The Circle of Death closes around me, trying to keep me from flying away. But not even they can hold me back. Not from Devlin. I dart around their outstretched arms and take off down the dock, the uneven boards crying out beneath my racing feet. I don’t have a plan, or even a hope of successfully rescuing Dev. But be that as it may, I still have to try. My rational mind may be screaming for me to get on the yacht and sail to safety with the rest of the MC, but my body and heart won’t abide that.

  The island is teeming with grinding, groaning bodies as I tear through the woods in search of Devlin Vile. I’m vaguely aware of that some of the escape party has peeled off in pursuit of me, but I’m nimbler than the average MC brother. I weave through the forest, determined to lose them. I know they’ll go on without me, board the yacht and get back to safety. Emma, Juliet, the lot of them will be safe. But I’m not about to leave Devlin here to face Leviathan alone. Not without me.

  I burst into a small clearing in the woods and pause, my lungs burning with the exertion of my flight. Straight ahead, a red pinprick glows in the shadows. For a moment, it looks like the end of a lit cigarette. But as I stare, I see that the dot is blinking. It’s a camera, mounted in the trees. God knows how many just like it have been spying this whole time. I take a step toward the hidden device, leveling my furious gaze straight into the winking light.

  “I know you have him,” I growl into the camera, knowing that somewhere Leviathan is watching. Listening. “You have Devlin somewhere on this island, and I want him back. I know why you brought me here. Well, now you have me. Do your fucking worst.”

  The words spill out of me unbidden. I have no grand scheme, here. Just a desperate wish to be brought to Devlin. When we’re together again, we can figure out what to do. As a team. But first, I have to find him.

  A twig snaps beh
ind me in the forest. I whirl around, expecting to see one of Devlin’s brothers who’s been dispatched to catch me. But my expectations are dashed as I watch three expressionless women step out of the trees all around me. I recognize them as employees of The Club. They’re among the legion of women who run this place from top to bottom. Usually, they’re smiling behind blackjack tables or bars. But they have no smiles for me tonight.

  “Come with us,” commands the woman directly in front of me, her nearly-naked body glistening in the moonlight.

  “Are you going to take me to Devlin?” I ask, balling my hands into fists.

  “Kinda,” says the woman to my right.

  “But there are a few other people who are dying to make your acquaintance first,” adds the women on my left.

  They close ranks around me, and cold fear pulses through my veins. “Wait,” I say, holding up my hands. “You don’t have to hurt me. I’ll come quietly, I promise.”

  “That’s what they all say,” the first woman sighs, snapping her fingers at the others.

  In an instant, two surprisingly strong arms have wrestled me into a stranglehold. I’ve barely parted my lips to protest when I feel a sharp pain piercing my thigh. One of the women has stabbed a long, glistening needle into the muscle there. I try to ask what it is she’s injected into my racing blood, but my mouth is too slack to speak. The edges of my vision blur, and I feel myself slip into a dark, hollow blackness.

  The last sensation that registers in my quickly receding mind is that of being hoisted up from the forest floor. I’m being carried away somewhere, beyond the reach of the Circle of Death, or anyone else who might be able to save me. But as long as I’m being carried toward Devlin, I know I can face whatever might be waiting for me when I open my eyes once more.

  I could swear, as I fade away from the world, that I hear Juliet’s voice calling out to me from somewhere in the woods. But surely the sound is just a phantom, a dream. Surely she knows well enough to get out of here while she still can. At least, that’s what I hope.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Devlin

  Caked blood and dripping sweat all but blind me as I squint up into the harsh fluorescent lights. I’ve lost track of time completely since I woke up here, bound with metal cuffs to a hard chair that’s been bolted into the floor. Maybe it’s been hours, maybe days. I can’t begin to guess. There’s a huge mirror covering the wall before me, reflecting my sorry image back at my swollen eyes. I look like hell, bloodied and beaten. But my fight hasn’t fled me yet. For the millionth time, I call out to the camera trained on me from the corner of the ceiling.

  “Why don’t you send someone in here to face me,” I snarl, struggling against my restraints. “You think I’ll just break if you keep me tied up long enough? You can’t fucking break me. Devlin Vile doesn’t break. So why don’t you cut the shit and we can talk about this like fucking businessmen, you cowards.”

  “The time for that is over, Mr. Vile,” says a sweet voice that fills the room.

  I look around, trying to catch sight of Lester Klein. But he’s nowhere to be seen in this tiny, barren cell they’ve locked me up in. A light chuckle fills the space as I wrench my neck this way and that.

  “I’m watching from afar, don’t you worry,” Klein says casually. His voice is being piped into the room through a speaker overhead, I realize.

  “Too afraid to get your little hands dirty, Les?” I sneer at the camera. “Come here and face me, you motherfucker.”

  “I’d really rather not,” Klein’s voice replies. “You’re rather a mess at the moment. I’m afraid our civil negotiations have come to a close, Mr. Vile. Leviathan has given you every opportunity to cooperate along the way. You’re forcing us to implement more...drastic measures.”

  My jaw tenses at his sinister tone. Surely by now, my brothers have gotten themselves and the girls off of this rock. They’d know better than to derail the plan because of my absence. I trust them to figure out the next step without me, trust them to have gotten themselves—and Logan—safely back to the mainland. That means whatever Leviathan has planned for me, as far as enhanced negotiation tactics go, it’s only my ass on the line. And as long as I’m the only one getting hurt, I know I can handle whatever they throw at me.

  “Do your worst, Les,” I growl, tossing my head defiantly.

  “Suit yourself,” the man sighs.

  The mirror that takes up the wall in front of me begins to lose its sheen. My image fades away before my eyes as the reflective surface morphs into a pane of shatterproof glass. It’s been double-sided this whole time. Squinting through the glass, I see a room identical to this one. I must be back up in the long white hallway, behind one of those unmarked doors. But why are they opening this second room up for me to look at?

  “I’m afraid this is going to be rather unpleasant for you,” Klein’s voice says from overhead.

  “What’s going to be—?” I begin to ask, but the words are knocked out of me as the door to the other room swings open.

  Three female employees of The Club are struggling to move something over the threshold—or rather, someone. It takes all three women to maneuver the unmoving body that they’re carrying into the cell. I know at once whose body it must be.

  “No,” I snarl, as the women lower Logan’s unconscious body onto the unforgiving floor. “What the fuck did you do to her, Klein, you sick fuck—?”

  “Not much. Yet,” Klein’s voice replies. “She’s sedated, just as you were.”

  “She should have been long gone by now,” I moan, staring at Logan’s gorgeous, unflinching face. How the hell did Leviathan manage to catch her? And what are they going to do, now that they have her here?

  “I gathered that was your plan,” Klein laughs, “But Miss Farrah here had other ideas. The second she realized you wouldn’t be accompanying her off the island, she gave herself up to us. A very touching gesture, in my opinion.”

  “Goddammit, Logan,” I groan, my teeth clenched. Guilt tears at my quickly-beating heart. Despite my best efforts to drive her away, she still came after me in my hour of need. What did I ever do to deserve that kind of loyalty?

  “It was a good plan,” trying to convince us that you no longer cared for her,” Klein goes on from afar. “But the truth’s written all over your face, Mr. Vile.”

  I don’t even have a moment to get a word in edgewise before the door of Logan’s cell swings open again. Revulsion twists my gut as two very familiar faces appear in the doorway. Mike and Jim, the Leviathan fucks who’ve been on my case for months now, saunter into Logan’s room. They leer down at her unconscious form with nothing short of ravenous lust. Cold dread descends upon me as I read their intention in those ogling eyes.

  “Don’t touch her,” I roar, ripping desperately at my restraints. My every muscle rallies to free me from my bondage, but to no avail. I can’t get to her.

  “You’ve brought this on yourself, Mr. Vile,” Klein tells me over the speakers, “And on her, too.”

  I watch as Mike and Jim circle Logan’s body, rolling up their sleeves and trading knowing glances. I feel like I’m going to be sick every time their eyes rove over her fallen form. They can’t do this. I can’t let them do this.

  “You’ve made your point Klein,” I shout, straining against my chains. “Call off your dogs and we’ll work out some kind of agreement. All right?”

  “It’s too late for that,” Klein sighs. “The time for agreements has passed, Mr. Vile. This isn’t meant to persuade you any longer. It’s simply meant to punish you.”

  “Can we have at, boss?” Jim asks aloud, shooting me an evil grin. “I can’t wait much longer.”

  “By all means,” Klein replies. “Do what you will with her. Just remember to take turns, boys. No looking away now, Mr. Vile. Take your eyes off, and we’ll just go ahead and kill her outright. Come on, now. Don’t ruin everyone’s fun.”

  A wordless, keening roar rises up out of me as Jim and Mike descend on Loga
n’s body. And for the first time in my life, I understand what it means to feel truly, utterly helpless.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Logan

  From somewhere very far away, a sound unlike any I’ve ever heard rings out. It’s a cry of utter despair that reaches me through the heavy darkness, shakes me out of my deep, boundless reverie. I feel myself ascending, back to the world of the living. Shadows and colors begin to swim before my heavily hooded eyes. Sounds and sensations make themselves known to me: the cold, hard surface beneath me, the murmuring of male voices, the harsh glow of fluorescent lights. And of course, that raging, seething cry that dragged me back from the deep.

  “I want her first,” a smarmy voice says above me.

  “Not on your life,” replies another, indignant and whiny.

  With great effort, I manage to pry my eyelids open. Searing pain shoots through me as the brightness of the white-walled room burns my corneas. Little by little, details solidify before my baffled gaze. I’m in a small room somewhere, lying on the floor. There are two other people here with me, arguing about something. My senses are foggy, my body lethargic. Even my mind feels sluggish as it struggles to put two and two together.

  Finally, my gaze alights on another form, obscured by a pane of thick glass. The strong, furious body rages, writhes, roars with abandon. Recognition slams into me with the force of a sledgehammer. It’s Devlin there. Looking ready to tear the world to pieces. He’s bound to a chair in a room that is the mirror image of the one I’ve woken in. Where the hell are we? What has him consumed with such rage?

  “I don’t want to fuck her after you get her all sticky,” insists a voice overhead.

  “We’re supposed to share, idiot,” replies the other, “One of us has to settle for sloppy seconds. But it’s not going to be me.”