“Good.” I collect the paperwork Councilor Hildebrand had drawn up and spread them over the coffee table in the sitting area. The oversized sheets of parchment take up the entire surface. I uncap the fountain pen and set it in front of Hildebrand.
He puts his drink aside and scoots forward, picking up the pen, looking over the pages. I haven’t made any changes so this part should be quick, and it is. Not a moment later I hear the scratch of the pen tip scrawling his signature. He wants his part done and over with.
He sets the pen down and reclines in his seat. “Discretion is of the utmost importance here, St. James.”
“Oh,” I say, taking a seat and picking up the pen, my gaze falling to the name Isabelle Bishop mentioned in several places throughout the document. “I couldn’t agree more.” I sign.
Zeke opens the door and, with one glance at Dex, instructs him to bring the Bishops in.
“Tell me something,” Hildebrand starts as we wait. He leans closer. “Why do you want the girl? She’s not even full-blooded. Her mother was a simple maid who reached above her station.”
I flex my hands, counting to ten, breathing. “Well, then you won’t mind so much considering my place within The Society’s upper echelon was bought.” I don’t bother to look friendly as I say this. It’s a truth he wishes he could deny.
His face goes an angry shade of red. I’ve hit my mark.
“Discretion,” he mutters.
The door opens. I stand and turn to watch Carlton Bishop enter the study. When his gaze lands on me, there’s only a split second where I glimpse a reaction. If he hadn’t heard the rumors of my return until tonight, he knew the instant the car bringing him, and his pretty half-sister turned onto the long, lonely road that leads to the St. James property that the time for his reckoning has come.
I see the effort it takes for him to shift his gaze to Hildebrand. “Councilor. It appears we’ve both been inconvenienced,” he says tightly. He doesn’t know what I have yet. Most likely doesn’t know the recording exists. Felix Pérez was good at that. Secret recordings.
“Sit,” Hildebrand orders, not even bothering to stand himself.
Carlton Bishop’s gaze lands on the official sheets of parchment scattered across the coffee table. The uncapped fountain pen. The still drying ink of our signatures. Does he see Isabelle’s name all over the document? Will he wonder what I want? What I’m planning?
Either way, I’ve got Carlton Bishop by the balls.
I smile a wide smile and turn back to the door. I don’t care about Carlton Bishop. I don’t give a fuck if he sits or stands or does fucking cartwheels around the room. It’s her I’m curious about.
And here she is in that ridiculously inappropriate dress, considering the reason she’s here, her chainmail mask gone, those too-pretty eyes set in a too-pretty face and locked on me. And fuck me if the moment our eyes meet something doesn’t tighten in my gut. A sensation similar to what I’d felt when she’d laid her hand in mine earlier tonight.
Does she recognize me, I wonder? Does she know I was the masked devil she has to thank for saving her ass earlier?
Dex closes the door behind her, and she jumps. Literally jumps.
I keep watching. I can’t seem to look away.
Zeke clears his throat and I turn to the seated men, find Carlton Bishop’s icy-blue gaze studying me closely. I narrow my eyes. Lock him out. But I’m already too late, I know that. He saw how I looked at her.
But fuck it. As far as he’s concerned, I’m looking at my next fuck toy. Because that’s what she’ll be, at least in part. She’ll suck my dick when I tell her to suck my dick. She’ll spread her legs when I tell her to spread her legs. And she’ll scrub my floors when I tell her to scrub my fucking floors. Because in this house, a Bishop is nothing. Less than nothing. Less than the dirt on the bottom of my shoe.
Although this Bishop will serve a purpose.
Because she is the key to wiping out the Bishop name. To taking every fucking thing they have ever owned.
“Isabelle. Why are you standing by the door like that? Greet the Councilor,” Carlton barks.
I watch her reaction. She looks at her brother with contempt. I’m not even sure she’s trying to hide her disdain of him. She drags her gaze to Hildebrand.
“Councilor,” she says but I notice how it takes her a minute to lower her gaze.
Her brother turns to Hildebrand, but my eyes are locked on her. I see how she shifts her gaze and her eyes lift to mine momentarily, thick lashes working fast when she blinks away. Caught.
“What is the meaning of this?” Carlton asks as he skims the documents on the table.
Hildebrand glances at me. He opens his mouth to speak but I don’t let him. Because this is too important. This first step to bringing Carlton Bishop to his knees.
And I want to be the one to say the words.
“I initiate the Rite.”
5
Isabelle
I initiate the Rite.
The words echo, like earlier tonight.
She’s not yours to break.
I reach for the edge of the chair closest to me because my knees threaten to buckle. My mind works frantically.
My brother’s ruddy complexion has gone crimson. And I understand why I’m here. Why it was necessary for me to be brought here. Because Councilor Hildebrand or any of the Councilors wouldn’t ever deign to talk to me. A mere woman. A half-woman in their eyes since only one parent was a member of their precious Society.
This man, the stranger from the chapel, has just initiated The Rite. An ancient, archaic, non-sensical law within The Society. A power bestowed on a trusted friend. A godparent relationship almost. One party taking custody of another, a minor in a normal-world sense. But within IVI’s convoluted laws, it means taking custody of a child or a woman—no matter her age. Because each household needs a male head. That’s why it was so easy for Carlton to take guardianship of me, although I was a minor then. But my family was all gone. There was no one. And once it was determined that I was a Bishop, it gave IVI rights over me.
Or maybe I allowed it. But those were dark days. I was sixteen. My brother had just been murdered before my eyes. I’d been left for dead.
Now though? I’m nineteen years old. An adult.
But we don’t live in the normal world. And these men do not play by normal rules.
“You cannot initiate the Rite,” Carlton spits, taking up the sheets of ancient looking parchment that seem as though they may disintegrate in his hands. He scans the text.
“I can. I just did,” my horned devil of earlier says.
I force my knees to lock, wipe my sweaty palms on the feathers of my dress. They’re still damp from the rain.
It’s quiet while Carlton reads whatever is on those sheets of paper. “Councilor, this is unacceptable. I don’t know what lies St. James has told you, but I can assure you they are only that!” He’s on his feet, pages clutched in his fists.
“You tear that, and you’ll be answering to the entire Tribunal. It is an official document. It will be treated as such.” Hildebrand takes a breath. “And you’ll be grateful it’s all he has asked for. It is his right. And you are the only one to blame for giving it to him.”