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Cain
Lol, it’s ok. Was your friend a fan of the show?
Me
Her twin brother was. OK, maybe more of a fan of YOU. Seriously, if it’s weird, just say no. It’s not a big deal.
Cain
No! Bring her too! I’ll find a lotus for her brother, LOL
I giggle as I glance at Hana. “Okay, you’ve been approved.”
She roars with laughter. “Oh myGod, I cannot wait to rub it in Tak’s face that I met his Lotus Bride.”
We return to the parked bikes. Then, it’s off to meet Cain.
41
MAL
The air feels damp,the sky overcast as I make my way through the narrow streets of the East End of London.
Everything about this city reeks of history, of power passed down through bloodlines and alliances. So it’s the perfect place for someone like Adrian Cross to run his empire—a crime family steeped in old-world tradition that both respects its allies and crushes its rivals with the same quiet efficiency.
I stop in front of an unassuming old pub—the Ten Bells—which on most tourist maps is marked as the alleged location where Jack the Ripper found most of his victims.
Seriously.
What those mapsdon’tmention is that it’s also the seat of power for the Cross crime family—yes, even today, though it’s an empire worth billions at this point. But, although I’ve never met him personally, I gather that Adrian is a man of traditions.
Whatever. That’s not what I’m here for. I’m here foranswers.
Adrian agreed to meet because of our mutual link: my uncle, Lars.
Back in the day, a group of them—it was more than just Uncle Lars and Adrian—called themselves the Kings and Villains. It was sort of a collegiate secret society, a bit like Yale’s “Skull and Bones” or Cornell’s “Quill and Dagger”.
Lord’s College of London has—had, at least—the Kings and Villains.
My uncle used to tell me about them—vaguely, at least. How they all met and somehow became friends, despite coming from different walks of life. Some came from “good” moneyed families with connections and that sort of shit. Others, like Adrian, came from the grimy criminal streets without much more than they could steal. But all of them were destined to take over their own piece of the world.
Right now, I’m standing outside the Rome of Adrian’s Empire.
A large man in a black suit nods as I approach the pub, like he already knows who I am. He pats me down, though I’m not stupid enough to be carrying anything walking into this place. Then he gestures at the door behind him.
“Go on through, Mr. Ulstäd.”
That’s a “yes” on knowing who I am.
Inside the ancient pub, a bartender looks up and subtly nods his chin toward the back.
“Mr. Cross is upstairs, mate.”
I nod, heading past him to the door at the rear of the pub. Down a back hall, I find a staircase, and up that, I head downanotherdark hallway painted all black, until I get to a black door with gold filagree on it.
I roll my neck.
I’m here because the enormous amount of information that Oren sent me—which is what Freya saw the other day before she broke in front of me, almostkilling me—proved to be almosttoo much.
