Bloodbath (Order of the Unseen #4)

Chapter Fourteen

Quinn

N othing was a coincidence.

Meeting them at the Halloween party.

Damien finding me in the library the next morning.

My mother’s bizarre reaction to hearing Damien’s name on Thanksgiving.

The pig head on my doorway.

The feeling of constantly being watched.

The missing girls.

I run down the dark, quiet sidewalks of Boston while raking my brain, trying to make sense of everything. My mind races a hundred miles a minute. My boyfriends being involved in a secret society doesn’t surprise me. Perhaps that’s something I’d be able to look past.

But hearing that this whole time they’ve kept something so important from me, it makes me question what else they’ve been hiding.

Am I doing the right thing by running away?

Have I ever truly confronted any of the problems in my life?

My mother has done her very best by keeping me sheltered from the dangers that lurk around each corner, and to hear that she has been talking to the man I love behind my back… I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to understand.

I should have asked right then and there, but I couldn’t stand to be anywhere near them for another second. Anger doesn’t even begin to express how I’m feeling.

Since I know there’s a strong chance they’re not going to listen to me and give me the space I have asked for, I want to get as much distance as I can while I can.

Until they find me.

Eventually I find myself hiding in a quaint little café downtown, sitting at the table in an uncomfortable silence.

“Here you go, enjoy.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I murmur, attempting to hand the plate back to the barista once they set it down on the table. “I didn’t order this.”

“Someone else did.”

“Who?”

They shrug.

A gust of icy wind sweeps through the café, except the door hasn’t opened, the heat is blasting, and the windows are nowhere close to where I’m sitting. The hair on the back of my neck stands up, goosebumps rising on my skin.

“Thank you,” I reply softly, my gaze focused on their back as they walk away.

Confusion sets in. Besides the two employees and I, the café appears to be empty.

Not having thought of them for a while, and after finding out I was right about there being a cult all along, I retrieve the notes from my purse. I place them on the table, studying them defeatedly.

Knock, knock.

“Who’s there?” I challenge myself aloud.

The abrupt sound of a chair scraping against the floor makes me flinch in my seat. Damien sits across from me, flashbacks from the morning after Halloween replaying in my mind, when he followed me to the library and told me I was his.

“Haven’t you learned anything? Never say ‘who’s there?’ Don’t you watch scary movies?” He taps his thumb on the side of his styrofoam cup, a smirk on his face.

“What? I told you I needed space—”

Wait.

My body stiffens.

His voice seems… different. Raspier. My gaze zooms in on his hand. My pulse quickens and my body stiffens. It takes my brain a moment to get through the disorientation I’m experiencing. The outline of bones on his fingers is what’s catching me off guard. They’re new tattoos, but they’re slightly faded.

And I’ve never seen that ring before.

He must notice my attention trained on his hand because he flexes it briefly, stretching out his fingers. I reach forward and grab his wrist, flipping his large, veiny hand over to examine his palm.

The scar is gone.

“But it’s your right hand,” I mutter, the blood pumping vigorously through my veins. “What the… hell…”

He yanks his hand away. “You shouldn’t be grabbing strangers like that.”

I gawk at him in disbelief, noticing the small scars on his face, and the crow tattoo on his neck.

All I can do is blink. I’ve become frozen, glued to my chair. Strangers . I study the situation that is unfolding before me, taking in every detail of the man sitting just mere feet away.

He looks deep into my troubled, puffy eyes.

I gulp. “Damien?”

“Wrong, but lucky for you, I’ll give you another shot.”

“You’re not…” He shakes his head. “But then…”

“I’m not him.”

What the fuck? What the fuck?

What the fuck?

The small difference in facial features should have been enough to give it away. Other than that, his body shape, and the absence of the dimple on his cheek, he looks identical to Damien.

But this is in fact not the man I love sitting before me.

He arches a brow, taking a sip of his drink casually, as if my whole world being flipped upside down right before his very eyes doesn’t faze him one bit.

“What the fuck,” I finally say aloud, not knowing whether to run and scream or remain seated in the safety of this coffee shop. “What the fuck!”

He lets out a sharp, noticeable groan, as if he’s annoyed, catching the leg of my chair beneath the table as soon as I try to escape.

“You… you look just like him…”

“Well, we are blood.”

I put two and two together, staring at him incredulously. “Damien has a brother?”

“I’d say I’m surprised he’s never spoken of me, but that would be a lie.”

“A twin—”

“Still wrapping your head around this?” He sighs impatiently, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. “I’ll give you a minute.”

“This is a cruel joke.”

He looks around with a grimace. “Nobody’s laughing.”

“I have to be dreaming.”

“Not dreaming.”

“I am,” I rush out. “I’m dreaming.”

“You’re not, though,” he confirms loudly, reaching across the table to pinch my arm. I squeal, glaring at him while rubbing away the discomfort. “See? Not a dream. Now can we pick up the pace? You don’t have much time.”

They look so alike, it’s uncanny. I continue to look him over, slipping further and further into disbelief.

“Time is of the essence, Quinn,” he remarks, his voice dropping. “I don’t have all day. I’ve got places to be and people to torture.”

I lean back, creating more space between us.

When I don’t respond, he reaches forward and snaps his fingers in my face. “Listen here. I’m going to lay it all out on the table for you and you can do what you want with it. Alright?”

Shaking away my dismantled thoughts, I try my hardest to stay in the moment. “Can you start with your name?”

He has the same crooked grin as Damien, but it doesn’t meet his eyes.

“Omen.”

“Omen,” I echo.

“Good girl. Sound it out.”

I scowl at him, the rage I had been feeling earlier consuming me once more. “Excuse me for not coming to terms with this in a timely manner that suits you,” I snap. “It’s already been a fucked up last few days, and then you show up out of nowhere—”

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but it’s about to get more fucked up.”

“It gets worse?”

“It does.” From the look in his eyes, I know he’s not lying. “The Hallowed Divine. You know of them?”

My eyes widen.

He mimics me. “I’ll take that as a yes. I should start off by letting you know I’m a member.”

“You’re in a cult?” I demand. “ The cult that’s after me?”

“Yeah, but that’s beside the point.”

“What do you mean it’s beside the point?”

“I couldn’t give a fuck about your involvement in the ritual. I’ve been done with that for a while now. I’ve gone… What do they call it? Rogue?”

“I’m supposed to believe you?” I challenge, eyeing him. “I don’t even know you.”

Omen leans forward, his eyes locked with mine. “Believe me or don’t believe me. For you, it’s life or death. The only thing I’m getting out of this is maybe some peace of mind.” His eyes turn into small slits and his brows become furrowed. For a fraction of a second, he appears to be in the deepest of thoughts before dragging himself out of it. “Maybe,” he reiterates.

“Everyone in my life has been keeping stuff from me. Even my mom.”

“Well, she’s dead, so she doesn’t really have a choice.”

My heart sinks. “My mom is dead?”

“She has been for a while. You look just like her, by the way. It’s… a bit creepy, actually.”

Time freezes. The room spins. I feel like I’m going to be sick.

Omen frowns, confused. “We’re talking about your birth mom, aren’t we?”

Birth mom?

“W-what?” I practically whisper. “Birth mom?”

He says nothing.

“What are you talking about? I’m not adopted.”

He pokes his bottom lip out. “But… you are.”

“I’m not. You have the wrong person.”

“Jesus,” he snarls, running a hand through his dark, wavy hair that’s mostly slicked back. “I know this is hard but try to keep up. Her name was Felicity. She was originally a member of the Hallowed Divine, but ended up having a… change of heart… over time. Cult life wasn’t for her. Shit got too dark. She had a weak stomach, couldn’t handle the things she saw and had to do, blah blah blah—”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Can I finish?” His eyes grow cold, sucking the life out of me. “Long story short, her relationship with our leader resulted in, well, you . She kept her pregnancy hidden and sought out refuge from the cute little secret society your boy toys are a part of. Nine months and some change later, a baby girl was born.”

“With the leader of the cult?” I inhale sharply. “That can’t be true. This isn’t real. This isn’t happening.”

He rests his chin on his tightly clenched fist, his eyes darkening.

“Because that would mean…”

Omen remains silent, watching me put it together.

“My… birth dad… is the leader of the Hallowed Divine.”

“Bingo.”

“What you’re telling me is that my whole life has been a lie,” I choke out, the saliva thickening in my mouth. “My entire fucking life has been a lie. All of it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Condolences, whatever.”

Tears cascade down my cheeks as I think about my mom, the wonderful woman who raised me. The woman who gave me the best life she could.

I think of my father as well, the man who gave me everything I asked for. The man who spoiled me rotten. The man who ultimately chose to leave.

And then I think about the suspicious circumstances of his death that was eventually ruled a suicide.

My gaze meets Omen’s once more.

“When I was younger… my dad took his life.”

“Did he? Or was it taken from him?”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, I break into a quiet sob. This is all too much to deal with at once.

“There, there. Don’t let your pastry go to waste,” he mumbles, pushing the plate toward me. “I know it’s your favorite.”

How does he even know that? I don’t respond.

I just seem to cry harder.

For the life I once knew that has now come to an end.

“Listen. I don’t have all the answers, but I do know what both our fathers have planned.” He reaches across the table and snatches my phone. “You’ll need someone from the inside, so I’m adding my number. You’ll have some convincing to do with Damien.”

“Why are you doing this?” I ask, searching his eyes. “Why are you telling me all of this?”

Omen cocks his head to the side, slowly sliding my phone back to me. There’s a vacancy behind his gaze I can’t quite explain.

“You remind me of someone,” he breathes, his voice low.

“Your mother?” I assume, drying my tears with the sleeve of my sweater.

He grimaces. “No, Quinn. Stop that. I don’t have a mother. I never did.”

I frown. “You never met your mother?”

“I was raised in the church since I was an infant. Barely saw the sun. It’s the reason I’m so pale.”

“This isn’t the time for jokes,” I complain.

“I’m not joking.”

“Did you… know my mom? The one who… birthed me?”

“She raised me. Made me promise to look out for you if the time ever came.”

I stare at him in awe, desperate to learn more. “Are you the one who has been following me recently?”

He nods.

“You’re the one who stood outside my window in the red mask,” I accuse, becoming flustered at the memory of it. I flashed him. He saw one of the most intimate parts of me. “You were stalking me on campus and followed me back to the sorority.”

“Stalking?” he scoffs, seeming annoyed.

“Well that’s what it was. You’re the one who has been watching me and leaving me notes.”

“Guilty.”

I frown, thinking back to them.

Knock, knock.

You’re supposed to say who’s there.

“You and your shitty joke,” I mutter dryly. “So all I had to do this whole time was say ‘who’s there?’ That was your cue to just… pop in?”

“Easy, right?”

“I assumed it was Damien playing tricks on me during his black out. I figured he just didn’t remember.”

“I’m not fond of my brother. I’ll admit that, but I’m even less fond of my father. I can’t stand that prick. I’m sure that’s the one thing Damien and I have in common.”

“What did Damien ever do to you?”

He forces a cold smirk. “What didn’t he do?”

“I can’t help if you don’t tell me.”

“I don’t want your help, nor do I need it.”

I look away, fidgeting nervously with my hands. “He’s been lying to me. They all have.”

“Well, yeah,” he says with a shrug. “Probably to keep you alive, but fuck them, right?”

“I can’t believe you’re sticking up for them.”

“Call it whatever you want. I’m just pointing out truths. Even the hard ones.”

“Is this all just a fa?ade to gain my trust?”

He snorts under his breath. “The last thing I care about is your trust.”

“Then why the hell are you here?”

“Because we both want the same thing, Quinn.”

“And what’s that?”

He leans forward with ominous eyes and bared teeth. “Retribution. I know deep down, you want it, too. Maybe not now… but you will, Quinn. With time, you will.”

“You say that with such certainty. But again, you don’t know me.”

“If you’re anything like Felicity, you’ll want nothing more than to burn the Hallowed Divine to the ground. It still needs to fully sink in. Give it time. A day or two, and you’ll come running.”

“You’ve got it all planned out.”

“I do.”

Ding . Ding .

The door of the café opens.

Omen quickly glances over my shoulder.

“Quinn,” three voices call out for me.

Leaping out of my chair, I turn around to find Damien, Micah, and Jensen rushing toward us. When their gaze sets on Omen, time seems to stop. I take everything in with the little time I have.

Jensen and Micah look horrified, like they’re having some type of out of body experience. It’s immediately clear that they also had no idea he existed.

But Damien… His eyes are pitch black. “Omen,” he blurts out, horrified.

Omen grimaces. “Well, this is awkward.”

“Wait—” Jensen snaps, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head.

“How the—” Micah gasps, his eyes darting back and forth between the two of them. “What is this?”

“What the fuck…”

“What the hell is happening?”

“Why the fuck are you here?” Damien demands, leaping in front of me. “What do you want with her?”

Omen scowls. “I don’t want anything.”

“Bullshit,” he coldly snaps. “If you touched her… even laid a finger on her… I will—”

“You’ll what?”

“Damien,” I rush out, my hand latched onto his shoulder.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Omen?”

“Having a heart to heart with Quinn, clearly. Can’t you tell? We’re in tears over here. Bonding and shit.”

“I warned you to stay the fuck away. If this is a set up, I will tear you to shreds. Hell, I’ll do it regardless.”

“Yeah?” Omen pushes out his chair without warning. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Stop!”

Ignoring me, Damien steps forward, enraged.

Omen strides toward us, his stance tense. They’re only seconds away from ripping each other’s heads off. I place myself between the two of them and grab hold of Damien’s face.

“No! I need him alive. He didn’t touch me. He’s done nothing wrong.”

“You’re crying.”

“Not because of him. I’m crying because I finally know the truth. He told me everything. Something the three of you should have done a long fucking time ago.”

Damien meets my gaze in return. He looks so defeated, his face flushed, and an intense heat radiating from his body. He’s sweating profusely, as if he’s just been searching the whole city for me. The muscles in his jaw are rippling with anger, a vein protruding in his forehead.

With a sharp breath, Damien backs away, pulling me along with him. “I don’t trust him,” he tells me.

Omen lets out a dry laugh. “The feeling is mutual.”

“You cannot trust him, Quinn.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Micah directs at Omen. “Damien? Fucking talk to us. You have a brother?”

“A fucking twin ,” Jensen adds in, not taking his eyes off him.

“To my dismay.” Damien focuses on me once more, gripping my hips and holding me close. “Baby—I-I don’t know what to say. Can we talk about this… after?”

“What the fuck?” Micah snaps from beside us, fuming.

“No, Damien, we can’t,” Jensen retorts. “This needs our attention now .”

My head begins to spin. We’re all dealing with different realities at the same time. My life has been turned upside down. Jensen and Micah’s, too, all for different reasons.

“I’m sorry.” Damien drops to his knees without warning, wrapping his arms around my waist and holding me tight. “I was wrong. Tell me what to do. Please, baby. What do you need right now? I’ll give you anything—”

“You were protecting me. My mom, too. I didn’t understand that until now. Why couldn’t you have told me sooner? Why keep things from me for this long? Why lie?”

He stares up at me with glossy eyes. “Because I’m a fucking idiot. That’s why.”

“Everything I just learned… I can’t believe this… You have a twin… Not to mention he’s involved with the cult that’s after me. This is insane.”

“He’s what?” Micah exclaims.

Omens gaze burns through me. Even though I refuse to meet his eyes—those cold, dead eyes—I can feel him watching my every movement.

“Fuck this shit. Fuck your family reunion, and fuck you,” Micah barks at Damien, torn apart. He turns away and heads for the door. Jensen shoots Damien a disappointed glare before following in his trail.

They exit the café together. My heart shatters once I get a true grasp on how badly this has affected them.

Omen watches the scene unfold with a devious smirk, entertained by the chaos.

“Well,” he mutters, “now this is really awkward.”

“Can the three of us go somewhere to talk?” I ask.

Omen furrows his brow. “I mean I’d rather not…” he mutters, his voice trailing off.

“Then get the fuck out of here,” Damien snaps, glaring at his brother.

Omen scowls. “Why are you so stubborn? We can help each other. I’m offering my services free of charge. Don’t you want to take them down?”

“You’re one of them. You belong to those fuckers.”

Omen’s voice turns hard. “I don’t belong to anyone.”

“Just stop it,” I demand. “Both of you.” I fix my gaze on Damien, feeling an emotional turmoil I haven’t felt in a while. “I feel lost right now. I’m so angry. So heartbroken. I’m adopted? The woman who birthed me is… dead ? My mom has known all of this, this whole time… and my dad? Did he really kill himself? Was my dad murdered? Who killed him? Why?”

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers painfully, rushing back to his feet and taking me into his arms. “I’m here. Okay?” I accept his warm embrace, the wetness from my tears soaking into his shirt. “I should have told you sooner. I fucked up. Bad.”

“Yeah. You did.”

“I know,” he breathes, cradling the back of my head. “I made a promise to your mom. I gave her my word.”

Sneaking a glance over his shoulder, I search the café, finding that the two of us are suddenly alone. From the corner of my eye, I spot something from outside the nearest window. Omen stands outside, peering in through the glass, just like he did that night with the devil mask.

We hold an intense stare, and even though my heart is shattered, and my world has been forever changed, I can’t help but feel released.

If I had gotten this news from the men I love, I’m not sure I would have been able to look at them without being reminded of all the lies I’ve been told throughout my life.

Omen took that role knowingly.

“Hey, princess?” Damien questions softly. “It’s time I show you something. Can I take you somewhere?”

I look into his eyes. “Okay.”