Haunting Adeline (Cat and Mouse Duet Book 1)
Haunting Adeline: Chapter 41

“Y

ou ready for tonight?” Jay asks in my ear.

“I’ve been ready,” I answer easily as I pull up to the gentlemen’s club, Savior’s. The Society choosing this club as the front for an underground dungeon must be their version of a sick sense of humor.

I slip the earpiece out of my ear, stuff it in my inner suit jacket, and then make my way up to the entrance.

The outside of the building is like any other high-priced strip club—a marble black monstrosity that drips money and power. The security guard standing outside of the doors gives me a once-over, before putting me through the customary what’s your name and let me check your asshole. Cough once.

Unlike Detective Fingers, this one actually manages to keep his hands in the safe zone and lets me through without a hitch.

For obvious reasons, I’m not permitted to carry firearms on me. But that won’t be an issue.

After Mark confessed the location, several of my men were able to infiltrate the security detail hired for this club.

Powerful men and women certainly wouldn’t be showing up to kill children if they didn’t feel protected while doing so.

Security is required to carry firearms, and I have it on good authority that some of them might let me borrow a gun or two when the time comes.

Just like when I was here last time, when I walk into the club, it feels like walking through a portal to hell. It’s stifling in here, the air so full of depravity and sickness that it’s a physical weight on my shoulders.

Jesus fucking Christ.

I feel like I need a goddamn gas mask.

I walk directly into the main area, the massive layout an open concept. It’s dimly lit and ominous—the perfect place to hide in the shadows without being noticed.

The floors are black marble, and unlike the seedy strip clubs downtown, these floors shine as brightly as my freshly polished shoes. The blood red walls are bare of creepy art, but plenty of creeps occupy the booths and tables surrounding the stage. A woman swings around the pole, shaking her ass to the beat while money is thrown on the stage.

Low music pumps through the speakers, though not so loud that I can hardly hear myself think. Loud moans ring out from somewhere down a hallway, and I make sure to stay far away for now. If I go back and see some fucked up shit happening, I’m going to blow the entire thing.

‘For a second, I thought you weren’t going to show up,’ a voice says from behind me.

I turn to see Dan standing there, peering at me with a satisfied grin on his face.

‘A man can’t enjoy some strippers after getting arrested?’ I retort, my tone laced with dry amusement. Dan laughs and shakes his head, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

‘I still can’t believe that happened. I am so sorry. Every man on my lawn got fired that night, I assure you.’

I flash my teeth. ‘I expected nothing less. What charges did they try to pin on you?’

‘Fucking drug smuggling,’ he scoffs in that can you believe that shit way. ‘I haven’t had a line of coke up my nose in months, and it sure as shit wasn’t my product.’

I quirk a brow. ‘What happened to the girl?’

His face darkens, and for the first time, I see true evilness reflecting back at me. I knew it was there, residing just below the surface. But this is the first time Dan truly let that hateful demon out.

‘I believe one of my guests took advantage of the chaos and stole her for themselves.”

“The cameras?” I push.

He shakes his head and spits, “Fucking ruined. The FBI must’ve done something to mess with the signal when they came. Probably because they weren’t authorized to kick down my goddamn door. Regardless, the little girl is gone, and ninety-thousand dollars went down the drain.”

My displeasure is prominent as I say, ‘Do you have any idea who it was? I would love to talk to them about stealing from me.’

A smirk forms on his face. ‘As soon as I have confirmation, I will let you know. Otherwise, keep the beast contained.’ He pats my chest and motions towards an empty booth. ‘Let’s have a drink. The ceremony won’t start for a few hours.’

‘Lead the way.’

‘So, my wife said that she’s going to leave, right? I told her there isn’t a goddamn inch that exists in this world where she could hide, and I couldn’t replace her.’ He finishes his statement with a huff and shake of his head, boggled that his wife would even try to replace a happy life somewhere else.

Somewhere that doesn’t involve eating children for dinner. And whatever else sick shit they do to them in the meantime.

‘Women like to run, but they like to be caught even more,’ I murmur.

He looks at me, a wicked grin curling his lips. ‘Exactly, man. Too bad the bitch isn’t worth chasing. So by the time I catch her, she’s going to wish she did replace that inch. You know how exhausting it is to be married to someone who doesn’t share the same tastes as you? I’ve tried to initiate her several times, but she refuses. Can you believe that?’

How does someone with a shred of decency even answer that?

You don’t.

I shake my head casually, taking a sip of my whiskey. Addie’s grandfather has better taste than these old dicklickers.

Glancing at his Rolex, he motions for me to follow as he stands. ‘It’s time. Let’s head on down,’ Dan says, swallowing the last of his whiskey before setting the empty crystal glass on the table. He turns and checks out a passing stripper, his eyes leering on her exposed backside.

‘And when we’re done, I’m going to take a bite out of that one next. These initiations always get me in the mood.’

The whiskey in my stomach sours.

Swallowing down what I really want to say, I motion for him to lead. He saunters towards the hallway where the moans are emanating from. Steeling my spine, I follow after him.

We enter through a hallway riddled with doors on either side. The moans escalate, but now that I’m closer, I hear the notes of fear and pain laced in them. Cracks of whips, flesh hitting flesh, and the loud grunts of men accompany the moans.

Fuck. Think of the child lying on a stone altar somewhere. They need me more.

At the end of the hallway is a black marble door. Dan wraps his fist around the knob and pauses before peering back at me, his lips curled with excitement.

“You ready?”

“Considering I was teased last night, I’m more than ready.”

Dan flashes a malicious smirk before opening the door. I’m met with a dark hallway, scarcely lit by dim LED lighting on either side of the floor.

The hallway is long and almost feels never-ending. And it seems the further we walk, the narrower it grows. But it’s just my mind playing tricks on me.

At the end is another marble door. I glance back and notice we were going down a subtle incline, where I see a small group of men coming down the hallway in the distance.

Dan opens the door, and we’re greeted by a room full of people. The black marble extends into the room, but the walls are rock. On either side are long rows of familiar black robes I’ve seen in the last few videos. The people gathered in here are speaking in low tones, slipping on the oversized robes, followed by the ouroboros necklaces around their necks.

My heart pounds, almost in disbelief that I’m finally here. The moment I’ve been working towards for so long.

It’s surreal.

‘Grab one,’ Dan orders, his tone serious. Without a word, I unhook a robe and slip it on. The material is silky smooth, but it feels like I’m wrapping myself in wool. Despite my large stature, the material still hangs past my feet and hands.

Next, he hands me the thick gunmetal grey necklace. The chain is ice cold and heavy in my hands, the large symbol hanging from it weighing at least a pound.

I slip it over my head while Dan stares at me, his gaze intense. “To be accepted into our family tonight, is to give your soul over to Satan. Do you understand?”

I nod. The devil and I are already well-acquainted.

“This another newcomer?” a nasally voice asks from my left. I turn to see a weasel of a man standing next to me. He’s a good foot shorter than I am, with a receding hairline, a chubby face, and square glasses.

‘I am,’ I answer cryptically. ‘And you are?’

The man smiles nervously. ‘Also a newcomer. My name is Larry Verenich.’

‘Zack,’ I offer.

Several robed figures start pouring out of the room through another black door straight ahead.

‘Let’s go,’ Dan says, nodding his head towards the group.

As I approach the door, a low hum gathers at the base of my neck, causing the hairs to rise. The room is just like I’ve seen in the videos. It’s like walking into an underground cave, only instead of moisture in the air, it’s dry and heavy. The dark space is lit by hundreds of candles lining the rock walls. But the small flames are no match for the oppressing shadows.

We’re on a rounded platform, a simple black rail as a barrier to about a forty-foot drop. In the center of the room is a stone altar, a wriggling little girl on top of it. Black straps circle her tiny wrists and ankles, keeping her in place.

She can’t be more than six or seven years old.

The hum grows louder until it sounds like it’s coming from inside my own head. My hands clench beneath the fabric, and I’m only thankful that the sleeves are long enough to hide my reaction.

‘To your left are the stairs,’ Dan says, pointing in the direction. “Go ahead and stand by the altar. One of you will be offered the knife to bleed out the sacrifice. Drink the blood, and you will be initiated into the Society.’

I nod my head and take off in the direction. The rocky, uneven stairs are just around the bend, where Larry is already heading.

I lift the hood over my head, glancing around the areas until I spot the security guards—three of them on the bottom floor where the altar is, hidden off in the shadows. From my vantage point, I’m unable to see their faces. But I know Michael is one of them.

Two other men follow behind me as I make my way down the steps. The minute my foot hits the ground, a low chant begins, gaining in pitch as I approach the altar.

I stare at the little girl on the stone slab, tears tracking down her dirty cheeks. She’s sobbing, her little lip curled in a frown as her wide blue eyes stare at us in absolute terror.

My heart constricts so tightly it’s debilitating. By sheer willpower, I force myself to stand still.

‘Fuck, I’m already getting hard,’ a guy whispers from my left. My teeth nearly crack from how hard I clench my jaw in that moment. Slowly, I turn to see a guy that looks like he’s in his early twenties, his hood down. His brown, bottomless eyes glance up at me, and all I can see is pure excitement radiating from them.

He’s going to be the first one to die.

He’s close enough that he can see my face, and I work to keep it neutral. He grins at me, but I give him no reaction. And though his smile falters just a little, the sick fuck has no idea that I just did him a huge favor. Because had I reacted, I would’ve reached down his throat and ripped out his windpipe with my bare hands.

‘P-p-please, I want my mommy,” the little girl begs from below me. Her red and puffy eyes are full of tears and she’s staring up at me with terror and desperation. Her little lip trembles, and I have to physically restrain myself from reaching out and grabbing her tiny hand in my own.

“Pleeaasssee,” she cries, her blues full of tears, despite the rivers streaming down her cheeks. “I wanna go ho-oome.”

Snarling, I force my mouth to stay shut. More than anything, I want to reassure her. Comfort her. Promise her that she will get to see her mother again. But I can’t allow any of those words to escape.

Not yet.

The chant around us grows louder, building until it feels like the cave vibrates from the sound. But it’s muted, like I’m under water. All I can concentrate on is the small girl pleading for my help.

I’m staring at her so hard, trying to convey the assurances in my eyes, that I don’t even notice the black figure that approached until they’re right before me, standing on the other side of the little girl.

Their face is hidden in the depths of their hood, and black gloves cover their hands. I’ve no idea if this person is a man or a woman, or how significant they are.

They could be from the Society.

In fact, my intuition tells me they are.

In each hand are two goblets twined between their fingers. The figure holds out their arms, and the four of us each grab one. And then, the figure reaches down by their leg and pulls out a curved black blade.

They don’t speak. They just balance the blade in the palm of their hand and hold it out straight, an offer for any one of us to take.

I swipe the blade, already sensing the frat boy next to me gearing up to snatch it. I can feel his disappointment, assumingly because he wanted to be the one to plunge the blade into a child’s chest. And for that, I’m going to make sure his death is slow. He won’t get the honors of getting his jugular sliced open so he can bleed out in seconds.

No, no. He won’t be that fortunate.

The chanting escalates until the haunting noise radiates off the cave walls. I feel the figure’s eyes boring into me. And though they can’t see my face either, I return the stare.

Finally, they turn and walk away, disappearing back into the shadows.

My heart thumping heavily in my chest trumps the noise around me. I can’t hear anything beyond the racing organ beneath my rib cage until the little girl’s screams pierce the air. I’ve lifted the blade over her, the sharp point hovering right above her chest.

The handle is fisted in my grip. I stick out two fingers, pausing for a few seconds to make sure the signal is seen before tucking them back in.

And then I look down at the girl.

“Close your eyes,” I whisper. “And don’t open them until I tell you to.” Her lip wobbles, but she listens, closing her eyes to the horror that will happen around her.

Gripping the blade tightly, I lift it up and swipe my arm to the left. Directly into the frat boy’s throat.

The chanting stutters before stopping completely, gasps ringing out as the boy beside me suffocates on his blood. I jerk the blade out, the suctioning noise swallowed by his choked gasps.

He’s staring at me, eyes wide with disbelief. And then he collapses, no longer capable of holding himself up.

Gunshots ring out. A security guard stationed behind me falls to the ground, his brain matter splattered into the shadows.

That was the trigger. The entire room bursts into action. Panicked screams and running bodies aim for the exit. I don’t let Larry make it a step before the curved blade is plundering through his eye. Glasses and everything.

His body convulses, and then collapses when I rip it out of his head, the suctioning noise lost in the chaos.

I look down at frat boy, and watch him take his last breath, the life snuffed out from his eyes. And I smile.

Michael erupts from the shadows, running towards me. When he’s close enough, he flings a gun at me. I snatch the weapon in the air and face the direction the black figure disappeared off into.

Urgency flooding my veins, I glance down at the little girl, her eyes still faithfully closed. Blood is splattered across her body, and I hate that evil still managed to touch her.

Slipping the hood off my face, I lean down over the girl. “Open your eyes, pretty girl. But I want you to look only at me, okay?”

Slowly, she cracks them open. The tears have dried, but her face is still twisted with panic.

“My friend here is going to take care of you. He’s going to make sure you get back to your mommy, okay?”

Immediately, she bursts into tears again. I swipe her blonde hair from her face.

“It’s okay, pretty girl. What I want you to do is keep your eyes on him and only him. Close them if you have to. He’ll let you know when it’s safe.”

“Okay,” she whispers, her little voice cracked.

She nods, and I gently sweep a tear from her face before straightening my spine.

“Take care of the girl,” I order, looking up at Michael. “Ruby should be here, she’ll take care of her and then you come back and help finish this shit off.”

Michael nods while I start towards the area I last saw the black figure disappear. If they really were a part of the Society, then I want them for information.

Screams erupt from the entrance I came in through, followed by more gunshots. One of my men must’ve let my team in.

Absolute carnage is consuming that cave, but I don’t worry about that, trusting that no one that participated in this ceremony will make it out alive. That was a very clear order I made.

This world will be better off without them.

I only make it about ten feet before an explosion blasts through the cave, sending me flying. Time slows as my body hurtles through air, sound becoming inconceivable.

And then it speeds again, and my body is colliding into the stone altar. The oxygen is knocked from my lungs as my back hits the corner of the altar before I collapse to the ground.

Loud ringing reverberates throughout my head, but it’s no louder than a whisper when the pain is deafening.

For seconds, minutes, hours—all I can manage is to lay there as confusion and pain swirl around me.

Groaning, I crack open my eyes, squinting through the dust clouding the area. I can’t hear a goddamn thing, but as the dust settles, the body parts strewn across the place tells me how loud it is.

Bodies are running around chaotically. There’s a man dragging himself towards the steps, one leg completely missing while part of the railing protrudes from his side. He must’ve been on the top floor and gotten blasted through it.

Along with several other people, some of them missing limbs, others just covered in blood and seriously injured. Cradling some part of their body as they process the utter shock of the explosion.

The ringing recedes, and an onslaught of screams filter in.

I groan again, forcing my body into an upright position as I try to figure out what the fuck just happened.

My head is fuzzy and my vision swims, the pain flaring brighter with every movement. I tear the ouroboros from my head, the weight of it feeling like a cinderblock tied around my neck.

Jesus fucking Christ. What the hell happened?

A person is charging towards me, their tall, lanky body emerging from dust clouds and bloody limbs. Their mouth is open in a shout, and it’s not until they’re nearly a foot in front of me that my eyes process what I’m seeing.

It’s Jay. Why the fuck is Jay here?

He should be behind a computer desk somewhere.

“Zade, dude, are you okay?” Panic etched into every line on his face, and his hazel eyes are rounded with fear as he kneels before me, his hands sweeping over my body to check for injuries.

“The fuck happened?” My head is fucking throbbing, and my back feels damn near broken. “Why are you here?”

“I came as soon as I figured it out. It was a setup. This last video… they knew we were coming… I don’t know how, man. But they purposely leaked the fucking video. It was a fucking setup.”

I’m so focused on Jay’s mouth, slowly trying to process the words coming out of them that the sound of a gun being cocked and the cold press of metal in the back of my head registers too late.

“Glad you could figure that out, Jason Scott. Now let’s see those hands, otherwise this single bullet will replace its way in both of your fucking heads.”

Jay looks up at the person standing behind me, his eyes growing impossibly larger.

“You?”