Page 79 of A Wild Darkness

Sebastian’s shoulders square on high alert. He’s activated his protective mode, which intrigues me because he does it as if it’s second nature to him. Does he know how to be anything else?

I’m also surprised none of the members are hiding behind masks again. The juxtaposition of what looks to be a group of friends meeting in wine country for a romantic weekend against what are serial killers coming to convene—or brag, maybe, about their kills.

“Ah, our new lovers!” Silas rises from his chair and walks over to greet us.

Candelabras line the dimly lit room, giving the space a low orange hue as Sebastian clutches my hand, keeping me close at his side. Under other circumstances, it would be quite romantic here.

“Hello,” Sebastian greets, extending a free hand to shake Silas’s.

Then Silas turns to me. “You are looking beautiful, Ms. Annabel Lee.” A stark contrast in demeanor to the last couple of times we’ve met. Is the formality gone at this point?

I smile in return, but remain silent, trying to gauge the energy in the room or why things have suddenly shifted.

Sebastian steps in to respond on my behalf. “She’s good. A little fatigued from the flight.”

“Wonderful,” Silas says. “I hope your accommodations are comfortable.”

“Yes, they’re great. It’s a beautiful property,” Sebastian replies, glancing at the group sitting around the table.

Silas senses his distance. “Well, I don’t want to keep you from getting to know the other members.” He gestures to the two empty chairs at the end of the table.

Sebastian leads me to the others, positioning himself between me and the older man in the black hat. On the table in front of each one of us is a set of four wineglasses, one champagne flute, and a small plate. A wine tasting?

From the corner of my eye, I spot Silas walk to the head of the table. Sebastian wraps his arm around the back of my chair like protection, and I have to fight the urge to lean into it. Because if I’m one of them, why would I need protection?

“Thank you all for being here,” Silas speaks, and the room falls silent. Everyone turns their focus to him as he stands in front of us, commanding our attention. “Every two years, different chapters of the Black Veil Society all over the country get together to build community, partnerships, and more importantly, protect its members.”

Chapters? Protection? Sebastian must have caught the words as well, because his hand is suddenly on my thigh, squeezing gently. I acknowledge him the only way I can at this moment—by resting mine on top of his and returning the gesture.

“Killing season is our time to celebrate being masters of the universe. But also to share with each other personal methods and what drives each kill.” The table erupts in applause, and I immediately jump into action, bringing my hands together to mirror their energetic response. Sebastian does the same.

“Yes, we’re all grateful to be back after we were forced to pause our past killing seasons by outside forces.” He cocks his head, implying everyone at the table knows what he’s referring to. “These next two days, you will be encouraged to get to know each other, share stories, and bond over what type of hunger lives inside you. Then you’ll have one night in this small, unsuspecting town to do what you wish, if you so choose, before we reconvene at breakfast the next day and then head back to Seattle for the next event in this year’s killing season.”

Do what you wish…

My mind spins with every other meaning that phrase could suggest, but I know better.

Silas returns to the head of the table when a couple of waiters enter the room carrying bottles of bubbly beverages in their hands. They walk around the table slowly, filling up each one of our glasses.

My eyes dart to Sebastian. His head shakes slowly, reminding me not to drink from the already opened bottle.

“Now,” Silas continues. “Let’s go around the room and introduce ourselves, as some of you have been here for many years, while others are only attending their second or third killing season with us.” Then he turns to Sebastian and me with a devilish smile. “Or your first.”

I take in a sharp breath, anxiously awaiting their responses.

From two seats away, a tall man with chestnut hair stands. “I guess I’ll start,” he says. I lean around Sebastian to get a good look at him. The man looks our age. “I’m Pete. Or what I’m better known in local media circles as—The Poisoner. I’m from Illinois and enjoy luring women from clubs back to my hotel room and, to state the obvious, poison my victims. Some have said that’s the easy way out, but I don’t like to hear them scream.” His eyes blacken. “I’d rather listen closely as they take their last breath while ravaging their lifeless bodies.”

Oh my fucking god.

“A necrophiliac in our presence,” Silas compliments. “I love it. No worries about fighting back, and the coldness does something different to the dick, doesn’t it?”

Now, that’s sick. What a fucking monster.

My sister always told me clubs are filled with nefarious men with sinister intentions, but I always brushed her off. I knew deep down my sister was right. Growing up with a homicide detective for a dad, I heard about the bad people and things he saw. I refused to live my life based on what a few people did. But now that I’m meeting a monster in the flesh, I can’t pretend they don’t exist anymore.

“You can only do that because you’re good-looking and young,” an older guy interjects. He crosses his arms over his chest. “Some of us aren’t that lucky and need to resort to more drastic measures to feed our hunger.”

Pete smiles, gesturing toward the man. “And what types of drastic measures do you take part in?”