“No worries. The fair was paid in advance.”
“By whom?”
“No clue. Someone ordered a cab, gave explicit instructions to bring you directly here. Paid anonymously.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
Getting out of the cab, I barely made it two steps before my legs gave out, only to have Reaper and Healer grab me before I face planted on the ground.
“Son of a bitch,” Healer cursed. “Smoke, get a room ready!”
“What the fuck happened, Ghost,” Reaper asked, helping me into the clubhouse. My whole body hurt. I felt like total shit, as if I’d fought with the devil himself and lost.
“Can’t remember,” I murmured.
“Where’s your sled?”
Sighing, I shook my head. “Don’t know.”
“Grimm! Savage! Help me get Ghost downstairs,” Healer ordered as they ushered me towards the basement. After sitting me on one of the beds in Healer’s clinic, Healer whistled as he rid me of my clothes. “Damn, brother didn’t know Armani made clothes this fine. Fucking shame, I’m going to have to cut them off you.
“Just do it.”
Healer grinned as he wasted no time cutting into the fancy shirt I was wearing. I said nothing more as brothers piled in to see what was happening. When several of them gasped after Healer cut the shirt from my back, I looked up to see Reaper moving around to get a good look.
“Mother fucker,” he whispered.
“What?” I asked, unable to turn because of the pain. “What is it?”
“A pentacle. Someone burnt a pentagram on your back,” Reaper carefully said as my brother Grimm stood. Reaper turned and pointed at him. “Don’t even think of leaving, Grimm. I mean it. Until we know what happened, your ass is staying here.”
I froze, looking at my brother, Grimm. We both knew what that brand meant. Someone had marked me for death. It was their calling card. We’d seen them before on certain bodies we’d discovered after the fact. The calling card belonged to a particular sick devilish cult within the church community. Highly exclusive, membership only. The fact that this cult still existed boggled my mind. I thought my dad had wiped them out years ago.
“It’s not just a pentagram Reaper, look,” Ink said, moving closer to inspect my back. I really didn’t care what it looked like. The mother fucker hurt like a son of a bitch. “It’s not a regular pentagram. There are letters at each point, and what is that in the middle? I can’t make it out.”
Curious, all my brothers moved closer while Healer was busy drawing blood and then checking my vitals. Other than a massive headache and my back killing me, I was fine, but I knew better than to tell him that. Healer would order a full-body exam if I complained. The man sure did love running his tests.
“A name, maybe,” Massacre said.
“It’s not a name.” Player sighed.
“Oh yeah, Reginald, then what is it?”
“Stop calling me that, Dwayne!” Player growled.
“Both of you shut the fuck up,” Reaper sighed then said. “Healer, I want a full workup on Ghost. He said he can’t remember anything. I want to know why. Then clean up his back as best you can. I will have Player and Phantom take pictures to analyze it and see what they come up with. As for everyone else, get the fuck out and leave the man alone.”
My brothers filed out of the room. I was left with Reaper and Healer, who was not saying anything. Their silence spoke volumes. Though, I’d rather they’d just yell and scream. Taking the bull by the horns, I spoke first. “Have you had the funeral yet?”
“No. We didn’t know what to do when you took off, then no one could get ahold of you. I had Phantom ping your cell, but it was inactive. My mom took care of most of the funeral details. We were waiting on you.”
“Rebekah?”
“Perfectly safe and spoiled,” Healer grinned, listening to my heartbeat.
Reaper took a seat and asked, “What happened?”