Penumbra (The Midnight Society #2) (8 page)

“I love gorillas. Now tell me.”

Lincoln licked his lips and re-adjusted himself in his seat.

“The only information we have in the official ‘Midnight Society’ archives are fairly vague, but from what I’ve read, the entire idea of the Midnight Society originated back when swords were still the weapon of choice. The Midnight Society started off with noble intent, but overtime, their purpose was distorted into what we have now.”

“So, what was its original purpose?”

“Believe it or not, the Midnight Society was meant to be a society of peacekeepers.”

That was the polar opposite to what I’ve seen. In my mind, the Midnight Society was a plague, one that spread only misery and death.

“You’re lying,” I said.

With one hand still on the wheel, Lincoln reached into his pocket and pulled out the pocket watch—or the totem of truth as he liked to call it. He held it in his right hand.

“As long as I’m holding onto this you’ll know I’m telling the truth,” he stated.

I nodded. “Fine, go on.”

“It’s no secret that war is never profitable,” Lincoln continued. “There came a dark period during the Bronze Age where aggressive territorial expansion and declaring war to neighboring kingdoms was the trend amongst the kings. The high ranking nobles hated paying additional war taxes that were unnecessary, especially when it didn’t benefit them. However, it seemed like the cycle of war was endless, where one king invaded another, only to have their lands pillaged by yet another after. The courts of kings were ruled by greed and opportunity, and it was costing everyone money. Finally one man, by the name of Astor Constantine, decided to do something about it. Using his network of influences, he gathered the most powerful, and brilliant nobles—all sick of having their profits eaten by useless wars—and together, they devised a financial plan that allowed for every individual kingdom to prosper beyond their wildest dreams.

“The Kings called a temporary truce and met together with Astor to go over his blueprint for unimaginable wealth. They agreed that Astor Constantine’s plan was brilliant and accepted his proposal, under the agreement there shall be peace between all the kingdoms. What followed was decades of tranquility. Kingdoms thrived as they made trade agreements with one another. Money was spent on developing resources and commodities instead of weapons.

“Everyone was happy. Meanwhile, under the leadership of Astor Constantine, the nobles continued to meet in secret. They called themselves the Midnight Society, given that they met at midnight, concealed by the darkness of the night. It didn’t take long before the focus of the organization shifted from keeping the peace between the Kingdoms, to how the Midnight Society could accumulate more power. For three years, Constantine grew the organization in secret, the Kings all oblivious to the fact that Constantine had recruited the most influential noblemen and army generals into the Midnight Society.

“Constantine had every man of influence and power under his control and by the time the foolish kings made this discovery, it was too late. The balance of power was no longer in their hands. The Midnight Society ruled them all.”

It was an interesting story. “So the Constantines were the first family in power?”

Lincoln nodded.

“When did the Tremaines come into play?”

“Four decades later,” Lincoln said. “Jonas Constantine, the grandchild of Astor Constantine was a complete ps
ychopath. He was nicknamed the ‘Headsman’, because of the number of beheadings he personally performed on other Society members. He was touched by something evil and needed to be stopped. A civil war broke out within the Midnight Society, splitting the faction in half. One side was led by Jonas Constantine, and the other led by Darius Tremaine, a young noble with incredible vision. It was a secret war, often referred to as the War of Midnight that nearly destroyed the organization. However, when the dust finally settled, it was Darius who was left standing.

“There were expectations that when Jonas’ sons grew older, they would try to reclaim their place on the Midnight Society’s throne, thus running the risk of another costly war. The Midnight Society barely survived the War of Midnight. So instead of throwing themselves into the same foolishness as the old Kings had, a democratic voting system was implemented. As long as either a Tremaine or a Constantine wanted the top spot, elections would be held to determine the society’s next leader.”

“That was until Abraham’s daughter was murdered, and the Constantine’s no longer had any heirs,” I noted.

Lincoln nodded.

“So why keep the Midnight Society a secret now? If you guys pretty much run the country, why not come out and announce it?”

“Two reasons,” Lincoln said. “First, if everyone knew about the existence of our exclusive society, they’d want to join it. If we accepted everyone into the Midnight Society, we’d be watering down the power we have.”

“Makes sense,” I said.

“Second, the invisible enemy will always be a greater threat than the one that’s standing right before your eyes. We, Aria, are that invisible enemy.”

I closed my eyes and let it all sink in.

“Satisfied with the answer?” Lincoln asked.

“Was it all true?”

Lincoln held out his right hand, showing me the pocket watch he was still holding onto.

“Then I’m good with it.”

“Splendid.”

There was one more question I still had for Lincoln. “There are only three of us now. Both you and Shadow have lost your position of power. How are you guys planning on resurrecting the Midnight Society?”

Lincoln smiled slyly. “Sinister believes the Midnight Society is dead, and that suits us just fine.” he said. “There are many pieces in play as we speak, and when the time is ready, we’ll strike back.”

“Do you think we’ll win?”

There was hesitation on Lincoln’s part to answer. I looked at his hand, which was still gripping the totem of truth.

“You must be tired. Why don’t you take a nap?” he suggested, avoiding my question altogether.

I shook my head.

With sleep came nightmares. Those scared me a lot more these days than whatever shit Calisto had planned for us.

#

Chapter Ten

Shadow

Cairo West, son of Brevin West, was an absolute monster. There was no doubt in my mind that I was in for the beating of my life. From the opposite end of the steel caged ring, I saw his dark, oiled muscular frame—an untamed snarling beast.

His arms were the size of tree trunks and his body reminded me of reinforced steel. Cairo’s eyes burned as he recognized me.

“It’s been a long time, Cairo,” I said.

He didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to.

The look on his face said it all.

Your best friend murdered my father.

It was astonishing how Cairo shared so many of Brevin’s features—a stone-cut jawline, refined cheekbones, intense brown eyes, and a neatly trimmed goatee. The only exception was hairstyle. Brevin wore his in long dreads while Cairo shaved it to the skin.

I swore I was looking at a younger version of Brevin.

The crowd devoured the spectacle like rabid dogs, thirsting for us to beat the living shit out of each other in an unsanctioned underground street fight.

My second purpose while in Hong Kong was to find Cairo and Reiko. When Nathan Tse informed me that Cairo was fighting in these illegal cage fights, I knew approaching him was going to be a challenge. He always was hot headed and enjoyed using his fists to solve problems. It made perfect sense that he’d find a way to get paid while enjoying his favorite pastime: tenderizing someone’s face.

Perhaps fighting Cairo in front of a large crowd was the best way to approach him—as crazy as that sounded.

I was now an investment for Nathan. The Triads couldn’t possibly allow Cairo to murder their prized investment in their own establishment. Should things go horribly wrong during the fight, Tse’s men would stop the fight—I hoped. In the meantime, perhaps Cairo would listen to reason while I avoided his fists.

Now the only question was, how the hell could I get through to him?

Cairo snarled at me and licked his lips, like a lion staring down a morsel of food.

I tore off my shirt and wrapped white tape tightly around my knuckles while the announcer muttered something in Chinese. I made out a few odd words, recalling my past lessons in Cantonese.

I understood:
blood, dumb, and dead.

It was nice to know they were equally jeering both of us.

Right after the announcer finished his spiel, the bell immediately rang. The crowd’s roar eclipsed all other sounds just as Cairo began charging at me like a mad bull.

“Cairo, it wasn’t Lincoln who killed your dad…” but before I could finish my sentence the beast was already on me, tackling me to the ground.

I felt as if I’d been hit by a sledge hammer. Cairo’s heavy fists were quick to discover my face. I blocked the first two blows with my forearms, pleasantly surprised that the bones didn’t break, but the third strike managed to smash into my right cheek.

It fucking hurt like hell.

“Cairo, stop punching me and listen for a damn second,” I said, enduring the pain that pulsated through my face.

My words fell on deaf ears.

Cairo wanted to hurt me.

I ground my teeth together and used all my strength to push him off of me in one fast motion. I scrambled back onto my feet.

“Use your words, you fucking mule,” I cried out, “and stop attacking me.”

He scowled as he prepared to charge at me again.

Meanwhile, the crowd roared at the spectacle. They wanted us to rip each other apart.

“Cairo, we can get revenge for your dad,” I said. “Together.”

His eyes softened for a bit, but the rest of his body was still in a combative stance.

“Give me Lincoln,” he stated. “Give me your best friend so I can choke the life out of him with my own hands.”

“I hate repeating myself, and I won’t do it again,” I said. “Lincoln is innocent.”

“If it wasn’t Lincoln who murdered my dad, then who?” he asked. “His prints were all over the gun that shot him.”

I took a deep breath. “It was my sister.”

I was stupid to think that shifting the blame to my twin would calm him down. He screamed like a wild animal and came charging at me once more. Cairo attempted another take down, but I managed to spin out of the way first, delivering a kick to the back of his legs.

Cairo grunted and fell to one knee, giving me the opening I needed.

I pounced on top of him without hesitation, wrapping my arms around his massive head. I had him in a sleeper hold.

“My sister’s a twisted bitch,” I said, maintain my grip around his neck. “I can’t get to her without your help. You have my word that once we find her, she’ll pay for what she’s done.”

I must have been speaking Yiddish to him, because Cairo didn’t seem to hear a word I said. The monster rose to his feet—my arms still tightly coiled around his head—and began backing up towards the steel cage that held us like prisoners.

He fell back against the steel bars and I felt the wind escape from my lungs. I was crushed between his massive body and the cage. Before I could recover my breath, Cairo fell back again. A shockwave of pain reverberated throughout my body.

Despite feeling mangled, I still refused to let go of the sleeper hold. Instead, I reinforced the grip I had on him.

My muscles were tense and aching. I was convinced I was hugging cinder blocks instead of a man. Cairo couldn’t possibly keep on standing, could he?

He smashed me into the cage again.

Fuck. I was hurting like hell, but I refused to let go. I was stubborn like that.

Fall Cairo, fall. Go to sleep already.

I noticed his movements were becoming slower. Thank the stars.

I was cutting off his oxygen supply and it was only a matter of time before he passed out.

“Fuck you,” I heard him mutter, his voice strained.

“Go fuck yourself first,” I replied.

Once again, Cairo crushed me into the cage, but not with the same force as before. The lion was being subdued.

“My dad’s dead,” he hissed.

“Mine is too.”

“If what you say is true, your bitch sister killed my father.”

“My bitch sister killed mine as well.”

There was a brief moment of silence as I felt all the muscles in Cairo’s body relax.

“Let go of me,” he repeated, but this time, his voice wasn’t filled with the same rage he had before. Instead, it was replaced with sympathy.

I did what he asked.

My muscles were burning as I took a step back, shaking the ache out of them.

Cairo fell to his knees again; hands pressed against his thighs. He sucked in oxygen with rapid breaths.

He looked exhausted.

Eventually he turned his head to me and looked me in the eye.

“So now wh—” but before he could finish his sentence, I clocked him in the face, knocking him out cold and winning the fight.

The crowd immediately broke out into a chorus of cheers as the bell rung and the caged doors opened. Two of Tse’s men entered into the ring.

“You defeated the Black Devil,” one of them stated.

“Looks like,” I replied, as I glanced at Cairo who was lying flat on his back. “Tell your boss that the Black Devil is officially retired from the fights. I’m going to need him.”

“Nathan will not be happy that you are taking away one of his prized fighters.”

I smiled. “He won’t mind,” I said. “I’m sure when all this is over we’ll all get what we want.”

I looked at Cairo and wondered how many nights since his dad’s death he had fantasized about getting revenge on his killer.

For me, I dreamed about revenge every waking second.

#