“I… I don’t want to do this,” Fay echoed her own thoughts.
An underling heard her and leaned in. “You signed up for it.” He hooted. “You’re being paid for it. So it’s eat, or take the long fall.”
“The what?”
The underling mimed taking a dive. “From the cliffs.” He shrugged. “Whatever. It’s fun either way. The boss — he knows. He knows when you’re faking it. When you’re pretending to be part of the family. But once he roots them out,” he rubbed his belly, “they make a fine feast.”
Hayden pulled Fay away as the line started to move. One by one the recruits were seated around the table, filling one half of it. Hayden sat staring at an empty plate, a heated dish and some shiny cutlery. Hundreds of hungry, half-rabid eyes stared at her, gauging her response. At that moment a flash of black caught her eye and Dantanion appeared, without ceremony, from behind one of the banners. Quickly, the man walked to the head of the table.
He eyed the recruits.
“It is a good day for a feast,” he said.
Cheers erupted around the room, startling Hayden. Cups were raised. Servants appeared from a door, each one carrying something that made Fay — and Hayden, truth be told — cringe. Skulls. Empty skulls. Oh fuck, they’re not replicas.
Dantanion spoke again: “With this feast we gain the strength to overcome our enemies, replenish and renew our knowledge, expand our skills and accept new successes. We give thanks to the offering for giving their essence and all that they were, to nourish and sustain us.”
Hayden felt her cheeks flush red and fought down the sudden fear. In this room, among so many enemies, she was about to die.
“Tonight you give a piece of yourself,” Dantanion said. “And then you will enter our family. This is our sacred ritual. This is our proof to you. And the proof… is in the tasting.”
He took his seat now, the black robe about his body drawn tight. Hayden studied his face, his eyes, wondering how such a striking figure might perpetuate such a mysterious and macabre past. The slight smile he afforded her sent butterflies through her stomach. Whatever it is I don’t want to do it but still, I’d like to make him proud of me.
Empty skulls clunked down on the table before them as a select few took seats opposite. Hundreds of others crowded around, some leaning on the back of the new recruits’ seats. Soon, even the whispering stopped.
“Take up the knife,” Dantanion said.
Hungry eyes fixed on Hayden, on Fay, on all the newcomers.
“See its edge? Feel it. Test its weight. Grip the handle. Study the fine blade. Are you ready?”
Hayden picked up the knife with reluctance, seeing no way out for any of them. The hall was full, the table surrounded; Dantanion’s family expectant and fueled with a cocktail of drugs. Someone then quietly slipped a plastic cup in front of every new recruit. Hayden looked ahead and saw eyes gleaming at her, shining at the prospect of what was to come. She knew immediately that if she took that sip she wouldn’t be able to stop any of it.
And what are your chances if you don’t?
Worse than zilch.
Already, some eager recruits had slammed down the shot as if it was golden tequila. Hayden turned to Fay, ignoring the glistening eyes and mouths that watched.
“Together?”
The tear-filled stare wrenched at her soul. “I can’t do it.”
Fay pushed at the table, sending her chair away and into those that were gathered behind. They pushed back, trapping her. Hayden reached out quickly, trying to calm the girl with a gesture.
“It’s the lesser of two evils.”
“No it isn’t. I’d rather die.”
She was right. It wasn’t. Hayden didn’t feel exactly the same, but understood. “If you die, everything ends. No more chances. No future.”
“As if my life has been a carnival so far.”
But there is always a chance, no matter how small. “Keep trying. Stay alive. Never lose sight of your dream. Be doubtless. Be tough. Be fierce. You will win.”
Fay hung back, reluctant. Hayden saw half a dozen men and women licking their lips only four feet away. Incisors, sharpened, slid free. An insatiable hunger burned in those faces — hotter than furnace fire.
A recruit further down the table tried to bolt. The pack fell on him, tearing, shrieking, enjoying every minute. Hayden saw him dragged off cut and bleeding, flesh hanging in strips, stomach bleeding.
She turned the knife in her hands. “Live,” she told Fay and positioned the blade at the tip of her little finger, above the nail.
Dantanion’s voice was soft, impersonal. “Fill their skulls.”
Hayden swigged the clear liquid as a servant filled the empty skull with red wine. She repeated herself one more time.
“Live,” she said.
A fever started in her brain, infecting every nerve receptor and cell. It traveled quickly down the length of her body. It calmed her fears, making her wonder what Fay was being so frigging fussy about.
Fay hesitated with the cup to her lips. Hayden reached out and tipped it, sending the liquid into the girl’s throat.
Dantanion raised his own wine-filled skull. “Eat,” he said.
Hayden pressed down on the knife. The pain was short, the fire that shot through her finger brief. The slither of flesh came away, and rolled onto the table. Blood followed it and she reached out with the napkin, mopping it up. A bandage was swiftly offered by a servant who appeared from nowhere. Hayden applied it to the tip of her finger, wincing at the raw pain even through the rapture. Then, with a pristine set of tweezers she took hold of the snippet of flesh and placed it upon the hot dish. Every other recruit did the same, even Fay, who somehow managed to look sick and ecstatic at the same time.
“Eat,” Dantanion intoned. He bent slightly as an aide appeared to whisper into his ear. Hayden was good at reading lips, but this message made so little sense she wondered if she’d misread. The wolves are loose.
Hayden turned the flesh over with the tweezers, trying to give it an even roasting on both sides, then brought the piece of herself up to her own lips.
Hesitated.
Every base instinct, every human impulse, fought hard to resist. The vilest of sins lay before her, sizzling, and whatever vile feelings rose inside had to be quashed. To live, she must first be abominable.
Fay chewed first, head down. Hayden then ingested the morsel of her own flesh and chewed until she could swallow. They could not take wine with it, but when the piece was gone they were allowed to wash it down.
“Now,” Dantanion said. “You have become family. Go below and rejoice. You are free in your new home.” To the servants he said, “Bring out tonight’s offering.”
CHAPTER THIRTY NINE
Drake bent as the first slavering beast came into sight, running hard around a bend ahead. It was large and lean, jaws bared, fur matted to its body. Within seconds its brethren could be seen rushing behind it, the pack incensed by something their handlers had done and clearly set on the intruders.
Gun up, he dropped the first, scattering it in front of its fellow runners, upsetting their balance. Dahl was at his side, also crouched because on this narrow path nobody else could come alongside. Behind and above them stood Alicia and Smyth, also firing.
Bullets ripped into the pack. The wolves screamed and howled, their cries echoing between canyon walls and surging across the mountain. Other, far away, plaintive cries took up the call. Drake doubled down — two shots for each wolf. He had more compassion for these creatures than any mercenary, but they were still trying to kill him. The speed of the beasts rapidly closed the gap between them.