Octavian's Undoing (Sons of Judgment) (15 page)

He stood at a table near the bar, elbows resting on the back of a chair as he talked with the group sitting there. There was a ghost of a smile on his face as he listened to whatever he was being told. Riley watched him, following the finely sculpted contours of his body with her eyes, taking in his scuffed boots, his cargo pants and working up to the black t-shirt that should have been outlawed for the way it melded to his powerful torso.

A shaky sigh escaped her that was swallowed by the howling from the lead singer. But it may as well have reached him for the way his head came up and around, turning in her direction as though they were the only ones there. He straightened, his eyes taking her in greedily.

Flustered at getting caught staring, Riley flushed. She raised a hand and gave a slight wave, feeling instantly stupid a moment later. But the feeling was fleeting when his lip curled in the corner and he gave her a two finger wave back.

“You look happy.” Gideon appeared at her side, a glass of what looked like scotch in his hand.

“I am,” she said, beaming.

Gideon strolled around her to stand at her other side. The ice in his glass clinked over the din. “Why?”

Riley laughed at the strange question. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “Why are you happy? There’s usually a reason.”

“A reason?” Where did she begin? Her rent was paid. Her bills were up to date. She had enough money to buy groceries. She had a new dress, something she hadn’t been able to do in years and… her gaze traveled through the crowd to where Octavian stood still watching her. “I guess maybe because it feels like my luck has finally changed,” she replied honestly, feeling her cheeks warm.

Gideon made a humming sound as he took a gulp of his drink. “
Fortuna fortes adiuvat —
fortune favors the brave.”

Riley blinked. “I’m sorry?”

He gestured carelessly towards the other side of the room, towards Octavian with his drink baring hand. “You’ve got your sights set on my brother… you’re going to need to be brave.”

He walked away before Riley could ask him what he meant. She was beginning to suspect the Maxwells had a penchant for riddles and half answers. The majority of the things they told her made no sense.

Mind made up not to let anything ruin her day, she tied the apron tightly around her middle and set out to do her job. By eleven, she was patting herself on the back for not wearing heels. The crowd was insatiable. They guzzled everything in sight, not even caring what she was setting down in front of them just so long as it burned going down. Several were so wasted, she couldn’t even understand what they were ordering and opted to send them packing. Others were just drunk enough to get brave. The liquid courage made them do things, stupid things, that they probably wouldn’t have done otherwise, like propose marriage to her in front of their girlfriends, or grab her backside when she passed by. It took a great deal of restraint to keep from bashing those ones in the head with her tray.

“Riley, break,” Octavian shouted to her when she made her thousandth trip to the bar.

Riley nodded that she understood and gestured to the table in the corner. “I’ll go after this table.”

He jerked his head in a nod.

The group in the corner seemed to be celebrating something. They were the loudest bunch in the place, but that may have been because of the steady round of shots they kept ordering. They demanded another when Riley went to take their order. She wasn’t sure why she bothered to ask. But she headed back to the bar.

“Another round of shots.” She set her tray down on the table for Octavian to fill. “I think they’re celebrating something.”

As though on cue, the table in question released a deafening roar of laughter and slammed their hands on the table.

Octavian glanced over, his expression giving nothing away except mild interest. “The escape of death.”

Maybe it was the noise level or she’d gotten distracted by the shout for more beer from somewhere in the room, but she started at his remark. “Pardon?”

His gaze moved back to her. He said nothing, but nudged her newly loaded tray towards her.

“This is the last round for them,” he said.

She nodded that she understood and went to give the thirsty bunch their drinks. The group lunged on the tray before she even set it down, nearly upending everything. They shouted something in a language she didn’t understand, raised their glasses and threw them back in a single flick of the wrist. They hollered and slammed their glasses down. The leader, a bear of a man with hands the size of baseball mitts and a face buried behind a bushel of ginger curls, motioned for another round. The others cheered his decision, pounding the table with their fists.

Riley chuckled. “Sorry. That was the last round for the night. Bartender’s orders.” She reached for the glasses, setting them back onto the tray quickly, mind envisioning the fantasy of a break where she could sit down for ten minutes. It was probably the reason why she wasn’t quick enough to see the hand that shot out and grabbed her wrist in a bruising vice. Her mind barely had time to register what was happening when she was yanked forward across the table with enough force to knock the wind out of her when her gut slammed into the ledge. Stars exploded across her vision as her cheek struck the surface.

The leader growled something in his booming voice that made no sense to her, even if she wasn’t terrified out of her mind and her ears weren’t ringing. His fingers cut gouges into her flesh, tightening as she tried wrenching free. The table edge dug into her abdomen with every failed attempt, bruising her already bruised stomach.

“Let go!” she cried, shouting over the din to be heard. “Octavian!”

The leader rose to his feet, looming over her as his comrades roared with glee. Their bloodthirsty cry sent terror flowing through her. The shoulder on her unrestrained arm popped as she twisted it beneath her for the tray wedged between her and the table. She nearly sighed in relief when her fingers closed around it. In a single upward arc, she swung. The tray swooped high and connected edge-first into the side of the guy’s face with an audible crack that was deafening despite the chaos.

Maybe it was shock or maybe she hit harder than she thought, but the guy’s hand fell away from her, giving her just enough time to scramble off the table and scuttle back several steps. She held the tray in front of her like a shield, willing it to protect her should the group decide to attack. Her breath came out in shredded pants that tore at her lungs. Her limbs trembled, threatening to desert her, but her grip on the only weapon she possessed remained firm. There was a full moment of stillness as the pieces slipped into place and the leader got his senses back. Jagged teeth the color of straw flashed from amongst the patch of fur around his mouth. Hands that could plow through concrete fisted and Riley cringed. She must have squished her eyes closed because when she opened them again, there was a black wall obscuring her vision. She momentarily wondered if she was dead when the wall spoke in a tone sleeved in fury.

“You dare put your hands on what’s mine, Billius?” it said in a hiss low so low, it was a wonder it could be heard, yet it snapped through the room like a whip, subduing the roar.

The music screeched to a stop. Those at the table shrank back into the shadows, but the leader remained resolute, fierce as he snarled at the figure shielding Riley.

“She is human and no better than an animal,” the other man snarled, matching the rage washing off Octavian. Mean, black eyes dropped to Riley. “Disgusting creature. To even let it look upon you is a disgrace.”

“You know our laws, Billius,” Octavian returned. “All within these walls are protected by the treaty. By harming—”

“I do not fear you, Caster!” Billius sneered. “Do you really expect me to bow to a dog?”

“And what of me?” Gideon appeared at Octavian’s side. “Do you fear me?” His smirk was ice incased blades. “I dare you to say no.”

Billius no longer appeared as confident as he had moments ago. Some of the color had washed out behind his beard and there was a faint hint of panic in his eyes before he seemed to catch himself and straighten to his impressive nearly seven feet height.

“This does not concern you,” he said.

Gideon arched an eyebrow in mock amusement. “You insult my brother, manhandle his mate and it doesn’t my concern? I disagree.”

“Now, now, Gideon.” Magnus strolled casually through the silent crowd in the direction of the table. He stopped once he was at Gideon’s side. “Don’t hog all the fun.”

“You’ll have to wait your turn,” Gideon countered. “I got here first.”

Magnus shook his head, but no anger showed on his face when he replied simply, “You always were such a spoiled child, Gideon.”

Gideon spared him a fleeting glance. “That’s because I was always the favorite.”

Riley had no idea what was happening or just how worried she ought to be. Everyone was taking this so lightly, yet the atmosphere was crackling with tense electricity.

“Octavian.” She reached for him, lightly letting her fingers touch his side, just above the silver studded belt keeping his pants around his middle. “I’m okay. Please—”

“It’s no longer about you, Red,” Gideon said, steely gaze never wavering from Billius. “It’s about the law, isn’t it, Billius? You know the penalty for causing harm here.” Moving away from Octavian’s side, he wandered slowly but with animal prowess around the table. One by one, the group at the table scrambled out of their seats, knocking them over and abandoning their leader as they tripped over themselves and each other to get to the door. Gideon didn’t seem to notice. His main focus was the giant of a man on the other side.

Without thinking, Riley’s fingers curled around the material of Octavian’s shirt as her fear of what Gideon may do froze the words on her tongue, paralyzing her from speaking.

Billius seemed to be having the same fears because every ridged muscle in his body had become laden with lead as he stared down at Gideon, who came just to his nose. But with the raw terror in his eyes one would think he was staring at death reincarnated.

Gideon stopped inches from the other man and smirked. “
Stipendium peccati mors est
- the reward of sin is death
.
”

Octavian moved then. Her hand fell away as he took a step forward. “Gideon.”

As if that single word had the power to erect a wall between Gideon and Billius, Gideon stopped, stepped back and turned to Octavian with a look of mild interest, like he’d just been the sun would rise at dawn. Billius looked relieved enough to soil himself, although he did a very good job of nearly concealing it.

“Let’s step outside, Billius.”

Gideon turned his head towards Billius, a sneer twisting his face. “How fortunate for you. I’m not nearly as gentle.” With a cutting grin, Gideon waved dramatically for Billius to precede him towards the doors.

Riley watched helpless as Octavian circled the table to follow Billius and Gideon out.

Magnus waited a heartbeat before turning to the room at large. “Resume.”

As though on cue, the music screeched to life. The crowd dispersed as everyone went back to enjoying their night without a single thought that this entire situation just went from terrifying to terrifying and downright confusing. Not a single person looked concerned or bothered. It was as though that whole thing never happened or happened so often that it was no longer a shock. Riley couldn’t believe it, or let it go as easily.

“What’s going on?” she asked Magnus.

Magnus spared her a slow sidelong glance from the corner of his eye. “Tables need to be cleaned, Ms. Masters.”

Then, without another word, he followed his brothers to the door, leaving Riley to gape after them with an unsettling chill churning the pit of her stomach. Her mind reeled with horrific images of torture and disembowelment even as she told herself this was real life, not a Mafia movie. Octavian would never hurt anyone.

Yeah, but how well do you know the guy?
The voice was right. How much did she really know about Octavian and his family? She’d already come to the conclusion that they were the most secretive and odd family she had ever met, but it had always seemed harmless. She knew all about wanting to be private, so it had never dawned on her that something may not be right.

Helplessly, her gaze moved over the room, searching to see if anyone was going to run out to see what was happening. This was a group of kids, essentially. Shouldn’t they be thrilled by the prospect of a fight? Why were they acting so… stupid? She couldn’t think of another word. The whole situation struck her as moronic, like some kind of sick joke. Any moment now, Octavian and the others would barge back into the diner, laughing at how worried she was. But no did. The door remained firmly closed.