“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Maryl muttered as he laughed at his own joke. “I really hope Delaney decides to beat your ass.”
“Beat mine. Eat yours.”
“That’s it.” She opened the passenger door and climbed out. Angrily, she stomped toward the restaurant door. She could hear him laughing all the way across the parking lot.
Killian slept until two A.M. Then she got up and dressed and quietly left her hotel room. The place was deserted except for the front desk clerk, who looked at her strangely but smiled in return when she smiled at him.
Outside, it was quiet. A nice, surprisingly cool night for mid-May. She unlocked the Impala and slid behind the wheel. Before starting the engine, she consulted the map she’d purchased before making the drive to New York State. GPS and mapping apps left digital fingerprints, and Killian would prefer to leave as little evidence of her activities while in New York as possible. After checking the address, she started the car and began driving. The Impala’s engine rumbled in the quiet night. It wouldn’t be a problem until she reached the right neighborhood.
Many of the Incarnyx “family” who worked at the school lived in the area, on a communal property where Magnus and Shasis also stayed when in town. There was a larger campus upstate where the “magic” took place. Her assumption was that the classes offered at the school were a screening process that not only made money, but then pointed a finger at those who would pay even more money to give themselves completely over to Magnus’s influence.
There were a lot of big-ass homes in Bedford Hills. A lot of people with a lot of money and a lot of landscaping bills. The Incarnyx mansion sat way back from the road, down a long, gated drive. The entire property was fenced off on one side by a high wall of evergreens that led to thicker forestation in the back. The other side had some trees and a fence that led to the neighboring property—which was the disciple house. It was blocked off on the other side in a similar fashion. The entire property had to be at least ten acres, with several outbuildings as well, and a large pool plus a tennis court.
Shit. What did the upstate property look like?
She pulled off onto a side road and parked. Then she made her way toward the property on foot.
Headlights came around a corner as she neared the estate. Killian ducked behind a shrub just seconds before a private security van drove by. Pulling out her phone, she went into the camera function—no flash—and started snapping photos. Thankfully, the streetlights provided all the light she needed. The woman on the passenger side paid particular attention to the Incarnyx house. Were they on the payroll, or were they undercover FBI doing surveillance? Should be easy enough to find out—she had the license plate on her phone now, and the name of the security company.
She slipped out from behind the bushes and turned her attention to the house where Lyria and the other “disciples” lived while in town working at the school.
At first she’d thought it was a separate property, but now that she got a good look at it, she could tell it was a smaller version of the larger mansion. It had to be a guesthouse or something. A guesthouse that could hold a lot more guests than she could ever imagine inviting over. How many people lived there? A dozen? How many other houses did the group own in the area? God, there could be easily a hundred Incarnyx fangirls and boys in town.
What was it about this program that sucked them in? It certainly wasn’t the crap Killian had heard them spewing earlier that night. There had to be something more going on within those walls, something darker and more seductive.
Raven was delusional. There was no way she was going to find out anything from a weekend’s worth of training. No one was going to invite her into their inner circle after just a few days.
She’d trusted Raven almost immediately—as much as she trusted anyone in prison—but mostly because the other woman had come to her aid when she was getting her ass kicked. She fought beside her, proved herself an ally, then manipulated her way into Killian’s head and body. Not that it had turned out badly at all. She probably wouldn’t have survived prison if not for Raven.
That didn’t mean she liked being fooled. Manipulated.
But there was no point in thinking about that. It would only make her angry. She turned her attention to the main house. A large silver SUV was parked out front, and she could see a guardhouse at the foot of the drive. Up near the house a guy in dark clothing stepped out of the shadows. Of course they had private security. She’d be more surprised if they didn’t. Maybe the people in the van were on the Incarnyx payroll, but she doubted it. It was just a feeling, but she trusted her instincts.
Not wanting to be caught by the van or the men in black on their next sweep, Killian quickly made her way back to her car. She’d only wanted to check the place out and get an idea of what she was up against. Money and power—that’s what she was up against. People who had both and wanted more. The kind of people you never showed your hand or your back to.
Back at the hotel, she stripped out of her clothes and climbed into the king-size bed. Lying in the dark, she closed her eyes and let her mind go. Some people counted sheep to go to sleep. Others indulged in fantasies. Killian practiced her kicks and punches on a faceless opponent, and she always went for the places that would do the most damage.
She was asleep within minutes.
The next morning, Killian got up early and went for a run on the treadmill in the hotel gym. Normally, she preferred the outside, but she was in a strange place, and staying put made her situation easier to control. She finished her cardio, did some strength training, and then ate breakfast before returning to her room to shower and get ready.
She didn’t hide her tattoos as much as she had the night before. Mina had seemed to like the fact that she was an ex-con, so maybe playing it up a bit more was a better tactic. Nothing too blatant; she put on a camisole with a sheer blouse over the top so some of her ink showed through. She paired that with cropped jeans and flats. She left her hair down and put on a little makeup once again. Then, for shits and giggles, she took a selfie and sent it to Dash. She was just heading out the door when he replied:
Sexy soccer mom. Swiping right.
Then he sent a shot of him and his fur-kid, Hank, out for a walk. She smiled at the sight of their faces before tucking her phone away and gathering up her bag for the retreat.
She arrived fifteen minutes early—plenty of time to grab a coffee before starting. Not from the urn set up on a table, but from the same place as yesterday. She didn’t trust cult coffee. Seriously, if she ran a cult there’d be mind-altering drugs in everything.
They were splitting the group between two of the classrooms that morning. Killian just happened to end up in the same room as Maryl, so she sat down across from her at the table near the front of the room, even though she wanted to sit in a corner with her back to the wall. She told herself there wasn’t much risk of danger but made sure she could see all exits regardless.
“Good morning,” the other woman said.
“Hey,” Killian replied. She took a mechanical pencil and the Incarnyx-sanctioned notebook from the tote bag and placed them on the table in front of her. Maryl had already doodled on the cover of hers.
“Nice bruise. Your fiancé give you that?”
Maryl touched the side of her mouth. “I—“