A Book of Spirits and Thieves - Morgan Rhodes Page 0,7

front of him. “You hear me?”

Nick’s eyes bugged. “Whoa, wait—”

“If you come anywhere near Adam again, I will personally slit you open and watch your guts spill onto the floor, and I’ll enjoy every minute of it. And if I hear that you ever do this to another woman, you will deeply, deeply regret it. Understood?”

Nick nodded frantically. Peter’s acne stood out like bright red dots on his pale face. They both answered in unison: “Understood.”

Farrell finally released Nick. “Get the hell out of here, both of you.”

The two boys scrambled to leave the apartment without another word of protest.

Adam had pressed himself back against the wall, as if wishing he, too, could run away. “Farrell . . . I swear I wouldn’t have—”

“Shut up. Just shut your mouth.” He looked down at his hands to find that they were shaking. He clasped them together as he moved toward the woman on the bed. She groaned and shifted on the sheets. A tacky necklace with a big, fake ruby hung around her neck. Her hair was a brash yellowy blond, with an inch of black roots.

Her fake lashes fluttered, and her eyes opened a crack. A drunken smile stretched her red lips. “Hey, baby. You ready to have some fun?”

“I’ve had my fun for tonight.” He grabbed a blanket and pulled it over her. “Sleep it off. You’ll feel better tomorrow.”

He caught another whiff of cigarette smoke. Farrell made a mental note to stop somewhere for a pack of smokes. He needed nicotine in the worst way. He’d gone three days without a cigarette. That was more than enough.

“Farrell . . . ,” Adam began again, his voice choked.

“Just tell me why you’d want to get involved in something like this.” Farrell didn’t look at him as he moved through the apartment toward the open door. Adam trailed after him like a ghost.

“It’s been a year tonight, you know that?”

Farrell froze. “You’re using that as your excuse?”

“It was a mistake.”

“You’re damn right it was.” He should know what mistakes were. He’d made so many of them himself he’d lost count.

“Ever since Connor died, you’ve been so distant. Mom and Dad . . . they’ve practically ignored me. I don’t feel like I belong anywhere. And Nick and Peter wanted to be my friends. I know it was wrong—and I know I wouldn’t have done anything to her or let them do anything. But tonight . . . for a moment I felt like I belonged somewhere. Like I had a group to call my own.”

One year since Connor died.

It would be so nice to forget. But it didn’t matter how much he drank. That image of Connor was always there, burned into his brain.

“I get it, kid. I do. The need to belong, to have people to depend on through thick and thin. But losers like Peter and Nick aren’t going to give you that. I know what you need.”

“What?”

“Dad was going to tell you over breakfast, but I’m more than happy to spoil the surprise. The next society meeting is tomorrow night, and you’re on the list. You’re going to be initiated.”

Adam gaped at him, his eyes wide. “Are you serious?”

“Yup. You’re in.”

“I mean, I know practically nothing about it.”

Farrell shrugged. “What happens at the Hawkspear Society stays at the Hawkspear Society. But you’ll learn soon enough.”

Adam just stood there, shaking his head in disbelief, before a gigantic smile spread across his face. “This is amazing.”

“Congrats.” Farrell couldn’t help but smile at his little brother’s exuberant reaction. It wasn’t every day that someone got initiated into a secret society made up of Toronto’s most elite and powerful.

Adam had no idea what lay behind those locked doors, but Farrell knew it would most definitely make him feel like he belonged somewhere. Somewhere incredibly special. Somewhere powerful.

Somewhere magical.

Sixteen was the minimum age for members, but it was still very young. Farrell wasn’t totally certain his brother was ready for what he’d witness tomorrow night.

But rules were rules. And family was family.

Adam Grayson was about to grow up fast. Farrell could only hope like hell that he wouldn’t end up like Connor.

Chapter 3

MADDOX

NORTHERN MYTICA—

Year 15 of the Goddess Valoria’s Reign

If he valued his life—and he most certainly did—then he needed to hurry. He’d already kept Livius waiting far too long.

The journey from his mother’s small village to the city of Ravenswood had been nearly impossible to complete in only two days while still taking the time to rest and eat. His mother

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