“Fuck!” I muttered. I was seriously screwed. I needed to call Reaper fast. “Do you have a phone?”
When the young woman looked at me funny, I sighed. “Of course not. You probably don’t even know what a phone is. Look, sweetheart, I need to get the hell out of here before your Uncle and those other fanatics find me. Do you have anything I can use to get the hell out of here?”
“I’m sorry, no. Our community doesn’t believe in modern-day mechanisms. But I could possibly send a letter. Do you have an address?”
“You want to send a letter?”
“That’s all I can do.”
“It won’t matter. My brothers won’t get here in time. Look,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “What is your name?”
“Aariaani Nicholas.”
Gasping, I sat up in bed, sweat drenching me as her name fell from my lips. “Ari.”
Holy fuck. I was screwed. Quickly getting out of bed, I rushed to the bathroom to do my business, then swiftly dressed before racing downstairs to find my brother Grimm.
When I couldn’t find him in the common room, I headed for church, where I found my brothers, Phantom and Reaper, still going over the files from last night. They all looked as if none of them slept, only running on caffeine and adrenaline.
“Ghost, we were just about to wake you,” Phantom said, peeking up from her computer. “We think we found something.”
“Later,” I said, closing the door behind me. “That shit can wait. We have another problem. I remembered something.”
“What now,” Reaper sighed, looking at me.
“Disciples of the Word.”
“No,” Grimm muttered, shocking everyone in the room, who all turned to look at him. Apparently, since I left five years ago, my brother's promise to keep quiet took on a whole new meaning because he barely talked. So, hearing him speak was a shock.
“Who the fuck are they?” Massacre asked.
“A fucking sadistic cult that was eradicated several years ago, as you well know Ghost,” Reaper said, getting to his feet. “In fact, our fathers helped clean them out. I read the file Pop left regarding them. They’re gone.”
“They’re back.”
“The fuck they are!” Grimm shouted. “No. They are pure evil, Balthazar. You know better than any of us what they are capable of.”
Pacing the room, I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell them. I wasn’t sure of it myself. Instead, I went with my gut and let the chips fall where they may. “I remembered something. I had a dream. I don’t know if it was real or not, but I think it was a memory about my missing time. The Disciples of the Word are back.”
“A dream,” Phantom asked skeptically, looking up from her computer. I knew this would be a hard pill to swallow for some, particularly Phantom, who believed in hard-core facts and science.
“Dreams have been known to exhibit some forms of truth. It’s scientifically proven, Phantom,” Ink said, defending me, which shocked the hell out of me. Typically, the man was all about his conspiracy theories and shit. Never took him for a believer in dreams.
“I don’t dispute that Ink, but Ghost has been through hell. He isn’t thinking clearly, and now, he wants us to stop everything and concentrate on this dream that may or may not have anything to deal with his missing time. We don’t know if this cult is even real or active.”
“Then do your techie thing. That’s why you are here,” Ink challenged.
“They’re real,” I growled. “They were the ones who branded me. I know it. It’s their calling card.”
“If that’s true, you’ve been marked,” Grimm whispered, coming to stand before me. I could see the fear in his eyes. Grimm was as solid as they came, and very few things scared my brother, but this cult, this part of our past, was one of them. He hated them more than I did.
“I know.”
“Okay, everyone, calm the fuck down,” Reaper said, commanding the room. Of course, Reaper would remember them. He was there when my father brought me to the clubhouse for the first time. He was the one who befriended me and helped me get rid of my nightmares. He knew it all. I was there for the aftermath. “Ghost, go grab yourself some coffee. You look like shit. Grimm go with him and make sure he doesn’t fall down. Phantom, start typing and find everything you can on this fucking cult. The rest of you, clean up these files and secure them. As of right now, this cult, if they are back, is the first priority. According to my Pops, they are not just Christian zealots. They are fucking mass murderers of men, women, and children. We will need the whole club to help bring them down.”
After getting my coffee, Reaper ordered me to go see Healer and get checked out again. Apparently, he wanted medical evidence that I wasn’t suffering from some concussion or shit that could make me imagine crap that wasn’t real. I could have told him that I didn’t have a concussion, but the President was in one of his moods again, so I went without complaint.
Sitting in one of the few chairs Healer kept in his clinic downstairs, I waited as he went over all my x-rays and medical information. It didn’t take him long, and as I expected, he said what I already knew. “You don’t have a concussion.”