Deceit (Gallows Hill #1)

9. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

Asher

T he damp musty odor of the tunnel permeates my nose instantly. A familiar and unwelcome feeling settles inside my stomach, turning and tightening its grip on me much like it did as a child. The stone walls at my sides feel as if they are closing in already, and I just got here. You can hardly see a hand in front of your face, the only light guiding us being the dim glow of the lit torches lining either side of the walls every six feet exactly.

I make sure not to let my discomfort show in the slightest as I raise my head high, pushing my shoulders back and stride through the ancient tunnel as if I own it. I mean, I do. We are on University property. My family owns everything here. Hell, we own everything, everywhere. I suppose that’s the one and only perk of the Putnam name.

Liam lazily trails behind me, his fingers moving across his screen like lightning. Yours would too if you had four regular hookups, three situationships and a handful of girls and guys on the line, waiting to be reeled in. My boy has options, just like all of us, the problem is he can never just choose one. He can’t make decisions to save his life, so instead of picking one or two he picks them all.

As long as he wraps it up, I don’t see an issue. He does need to hide where he parks his car though, since it gets keyed about every other week. Hell hath no fury like a scorned woman. He hasn’t had any of the guys he’s been with flip out quite like the women, yet . Not sure if it’s a personality thing or if that shit is something only a psycho female brain can come up with.

Once we make our way further into the tunnel and take the left turn, Liam pockets his phone, instantly acting casual as we come in sight of the first guard. Oh, and when I say acts casual, I mean he begins bouncing on his feet while attempting to touch the ceiling as he runs and jumps high over and over again. You’d think a tunnel beginning underneath the school church and leading out into the forest wouldn’t have very high ceilings, but for whatever reason, they are nearly ten feet tall.

When the original Brethren were building this tunnel system, they really spared no expense or cut a single corner. At least, not by 1696 standards.

In the next moment, we see Alexander Booth just ahead as usual. His family isn’t one of the Elders, but they are a part of the Brethren. It’s bad luck though, because when you join the Brethren without Elder blood in your veins you are offered the life of your dreams, but it comes at a price. For instance, Booth’s price is that he is the Elder’s resident bitch-boy.

He comes down here and lights the tunnel for the Elders and the Legacies. He is also the attendance taker if you will, though this is the closest he will ever get to being inside of that room. He’s never even seen past the door he keeps. If he did, I have no doubt my father would gouge out his eyes in an attempt to eviscerate the image from his mind. Then again, he’d probably take his tongue too for good measure, should he ever try to speak of what he sees.

To my knowledge, he’s always been a faithful servant– dutiful and silent. Just as he should be. Wordlessly, he flips open the leather bound book before him. It only gets bigger and bigger as time goes on, since the Elders insist on using the original log book to maintain tradition.

I reach into my slacks pocket, grabbing my pocket-knife before flicking the blade open and pricking the end of my finger. When that first drop of crimson appears, I press my pointer finger to the blank line, where I quickly sign my name and the date before handing my knife to Liam. He quickly does the same, logging his attendance as well.

There are a lot of traditions and practices we still participate in that are weird as fuck. This one, for instance. The scripted writing across the top of the page, a clear direction as to why we do what we do. Witches bleed black.

Obviously, it’s far less about eradicating witches and far more about multiplying our power, wealth and reach nowadays. Even so, we all cut our fingers to make sure we bleed red. Weird as fuck, but it’s been practically the norm since I was first brought down here as a young boy.

Booth nods at us, dipping his head in respect as we move past him and push on the stone wall. In appearance it is just another part of the wall, but the twenty-second brick up from the floor is loose, so when you push it in just right—

Before I can finish my thought, the wall gives way, just enough for one person to slide through at a time. Liam is quick to shut the door behind himself as we step into the waiting room, at least that’s what I call it. Though you’d expect the Brethren to have a more refined space for their elite, that isn’t the case down here. Up above is where we flaunt our wealth and status, where we indulge in our every desire. Down here, we are just as they were before us. At least, that’s the horse shit my father has been peddling down my throat since I was old enough to understand how different our family was.

Vincent Griggs is already here, standing in the corner so he can watch everyone as usual. The guy is a fucking creep, and has been ever since his parents died. He got even worse after his Bond Brother died. As a Legacy, when we’re thirteen, we are assigned a Bond Brother. He is, for all intents and purposes, an extension of ourselves. You do everything with each other as kids, so that it strengthens your bond as adults. I’m just glad I was matched with Liam. We had been best friends since birth and if I would have had to have been Brothers with someone like Griggs, I think I would have gladly offered myself as well.

His eyes come to mine and Liam's instantly, a sneer pulling at his lips as the grey in his eyes flash like a knife. We are similar in build, and if I had to take him on there is a good chance I would win. Then again, because his family was who they were and because of what they did for the Brethren, maybe not. Either way it doesn’t matter, every family here, including Liam’s, will one day submit to me. It’s my birthright.

Thomas Preston and Andrew Hutchinson step into the room next, closely followed by Jeremy Stroughton and Dane Lewis. They all acknowledge everyone in the room with a simple nod before taking seats around the room. We’ve timed it well, and don’t have to wait long before the wall in front of us shifts revealing yet another hidden door to the main room.

Ronan steps out, eyes scanning to make sure all of us are here. His job, to the Brethren, is essentially the Legacy guardian. Until we are officially inducted into the Brethren, he’s basically our babysitter.

He gives us a silent nod as we all stand and begin slipping through the door, one by one, before it’s snapped shut behind us.