The room Randall stood in was small, but he didn’t want his co-conspirators to think he was wealthier than them. This was a game. He had to play the weak, injured man who needed them, and while the latter part was true, he was no longer weak nor injured. In fact, with his new ability, he felt stronger than ever. The new prosthetic was working well, even if it was still slightly awkward. He would adapt. It was what had made him so successful with Eclipse. He was constantly pivoting, constantly adapting.

This strange little apartment he’d rented to be close to his physical therapist felt cramped and dirty most of the time, but he had learned to overlook that in favor of its positive attributes. It was a property where he could meet other members of the Order and not have eyes on him, on them, all the time, unlike at Eclipse where he knew the High Brother could tap into any security feed he wanted to. A portal appeared on the blank wall, and the old matron appeared.

Sister Beatrice pulled her sneer into a smile as she walked in, but Randall didn’t miss her initial reaction. It was what he had wanted. They would be uncomfortable, they wouldn’t stay, and they wouldn’t expect much of him, and then when he dispatched the siren brothers, brought the seer back, and possibly even his banshee, he would take control of the Order. The humiliation of the past few defeats would be forgotten, and they would all be worshiping at his feet as he led them to a glory greater than the High Brother could even dream of.

Everything was clear in his mind. He just had to get the three of them to bond with him, to give him access to their Keys. He’d thought at first Beatrice and Anna would be enough, but then his rational brain stepped in, demanding to know why he was putting so many eggs in Beatrice’s basket, since Anna’s ability to control her Key was less than optimal. Diversify. Take on other challenges. All of it would only serve to make him stronger, so he recruited Bartholomew as well.

Shortly after Beatrice had settled on the armchair, Sister Anna and Brother Bartholomew walked through their own portals. He smiled devilishly at both of them. They had been easy to coerce. They might hold a decent rank in the Order, but they were weak when it came to physical desires. He played them both like a fiddle, gaining their trust and cooperation without having to explicitly promise anything in return.

“Welcome, everyone. I am glad we could all gather today. I wanted to discuss your Keys.”

He had coffee, tea, and some stale cookies all laid out, making it look like he was making a true effort, but it was all for show. None of it was anything he cared about. The bonding was the only important part, and without the High Brother to facilitate as he had done at the last fight, they needed to do this early to make sure the bond had time to settle.

The three of them regarded each other warily. It was generally considered bad form to talk about one’s Key in front of others, as the power levels varied. Since a member was only ever given one Key, it was a closely guarded secret. There were tales of legendary backstabbings that went on when Keys were public knowledge. People killing one another so their new recruit would get the newly available Key. Eventually, the identity of the Keys had been hidden, but he still knew where to look and who to ask, which was precisely why he’d approached Sister Anna. She was fairly low in the Order but had an extremely powerful Key. It was a shame she was too weak to wield it. Fortunately for her, he was willing to offer his guidance and years of experience.

“Brother, Sisters.” He nodded slightly to them. “I know you are worried about the risk you take coming here, but let me reassure you, I have a plan, and with your help, it will succeed. I have located a property that is tangentially owned by the siren brothers. I believe I can use it to either lure them out or find out where they live. Whether they come to us or we go to them, with the power of your Keys, I will be able to destroy them once and for all, keeping one alive long enough to get me to the seer and have her returned to us.”

“You think you’ll be able to take on multiple brothers?”

“I’ve never seen more than two at a time. Once one goes down, the other will call for backup, so I’ll only be fighting two at a time.”

“Do you even know how many there are? I can’t lose my Key because you use up all her power,” Brother Bartholomew whined.

“I know what I’m doing,” he snapped, before reining his temper in. “I’ve done plenty of research. I probably know more about the siren brothers than anyone else on the planet. Now, about your Keys. We should begin the bonding now so it has time to cement before I put the plan in motion.”

Sister Beatrice produced a ceremonial dagger from her handbag. The filigree on the handle and blade matched the scarf that was loosely wrapped around her neck. It was her own personal blade, one that had been created just for her and her Key. “I will call forth my Key’s power, and we will commence the blood bond. I will slice first, followed by you, and then once we are sure the bond has taken, you may move on to the others.”

It was a reminder of her status within the Order. As the highest-ranking member there, she held deference. The High Brother may control North America, but Sister Beatrice was dangerously close to becoming the High Sister of Western Europe. Once he had control of the Order, that would all change. There wouldn’t be different factions. There would just be him, uniting them all under the common banner of the hatred of magical beings. The fact that he now had powers, well, anyone who found out would have to be dealt with, which was why Sister Beatrice would be first on his list.

The air in the room changed, becoming more charged, as if a big storm was about to roll in. He could almost see the years fall off her. The wrinkled bags of skin that were her jowls tightened, and her hair became a rich chocolate brown once more instead of the ugly dyed color it had been a moment ago.

“I’m ready.” Her voice had lost the gravel that came with age, its tone clear as a bell.

He nodded at her.

She sliced the palm of her hand. “I bind my Key to you from now until the new year. My will be done, and yours as well. Order of Talos, grant me my power. Order of Talos, grant me my strength. Order of Talos, grant these things to Brother Randall.”

He sliced his own palm and bound his hand to hers. The energy punched into him, leaving him breathless. Every nerve was on fire as he struggled to digest the information that was flowing into his mind from Sister Beatrice’s Key. It was an Elemental. Wind? It might give him some advantages in that area, but it was the raw power he was after more than anything, so he could super charge his own powers.

When he slid his eyes open again, it felt better than any session he’d ever had with Katerina. She knew how to please him, how to make him feel powerful and in control better than any being on the planet, but that had come from years of training. This? This was instantaneous, no training needed. Part of him thought that this might be enough, but the idea of getting more power from his other two conspirators was more than inviting. They both blushed under his hot gaze as he turned to look at both Sister Anna and Brother Bartholomew in turn. He knew they would give him everything.

“You may remove the binding now,” Sister Beatrice said in a subtle reprimand for forgetting her.

He turned back to the woman in front of him, who now looked older than ever, and removed the binding cloth. Their hands parted, sticky with blood, and she used the binding cloth to wipe down her blade and then her hand before stowing the blade back in her purse.

“I do not need to witness their bindings. That is between the three of you.” She looked haughtily over at the other members, before adding, “I will see you soon. If you fail, you will answer to me.” Her power blazed in her eyes in that moment, and he knew that she was just as ruthless as he was.

“Thank you for your assistance, Sister Beatrice. I will not fail you.” He ducked his head in a small bow.

Randall hated being beholden to anyone, but for this? For the chance at vengeance on the siren brothers? He would make an exception.

A portal opened on the other wall, and she walked out without a glance or another word.

He turned back to his two new toys, smiling, as he knew exactly how to make this work. “Brother Bartholomew, would you mind if I had a word with Sister Anna in private?”

The timid man shook his head.

Extending his hand to Anna, he helped her up and walked her into the kitchen. “Anna . . .” he breathed, putting as much longing as he could into her name.

“Randall. I was worried it was just . . .”

“A one-time thing?”

She nodded, biting her pretty pink lip.

“Not a chance,” he said, taking a step forward, pinning her to the countertop with his hips. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

She smiled up at him then, a pathetic hope in her eyes. “Me either.”

“Why don’t we make our bonding private? It can be special, just for the two of us?”

“That . . . that would be nice.”

He wrapped his hand around her waist, pulling her close to him for a swift kiss. She was desperate for more, but he couldn’t let Bartholomew look over and see him like this. “Wait in the bedroom?” He angled his head toward the door on the left.

Her cheeks flushed and her pupils dilated under his stare. She turned to walk away into the bedroom, and he gave her ass a good pinch. When she gasped and glanced over her shoulder at him, he grinned and waggled his eyebrows at her. Smiling, she disappeared behind the closed door, and he went back to deal with the remaining member.

“Bartholomew.” His approach was different now. The man liked to be dominated. There was no softness, no tender desire in his voice now.

Big brown eyes looked up at him as he sat on the couch next to the younger man. All it took was a hand on his knee, sliding slightly up his thigh, and he knew that was all he needed to do. “Your dagger?” He let the double entendre hang.

“Ready.”

They both sat completely still for a moment before Bartholomew produced a dagger. Randall studied it. There was no fanciful decoration on this. It was just standard issue, the same enchanted dagger given to all members when they joined the Order. The smaller man didn’t want to stand out, didn’t want anything fancy drawing others’ attention. If he hadn’t been a genius on the stock market, Randall would have wondered why he was in the Order to begin with.

They repeated the same process as he had completed with Sister Beatrice. This time, the power was a gentle ripple into him, tender and cautious.

“What is your Key?” he asked, unable to dampen the curiosity when he couldn’t figure it out himself.

“A young Fae. She was only recently captured. I am still working on accessing all of her power, but I have faith that between the two of us, we will be able to conquer her.”

“I would love to meet her sometime,” Randall said, letting his tone hint at the meaning the other man wanted.

“That’d be nice. I’d like that.”

They separated their hands, and Randall stood as Bartholomew cleaned his dagger off. “If you will excuse me, I need to complete the bonding with Anna. She was feeling a little shy earlier, so she’s waiting in my office, poor thing.” He chuckled at the end as though he thought she was being silly.

“You can be quite intimidating.”

“Can I? You don’t seem to mind.” He smiled at the other man. “I’ll call you . . . about your Key,” he added, trying to make it seem as though this new Key was the last thing on his mind when it came to Brother Bartholomew, when, in fact, it was the only thing on his mind when it came to this man. An untapped Key? A man too scared to plunder the depths of his Key’s power? It practically made Randall salivate at the thought. She could be much more powerful than he had initially thought.

After the man disappeared through his own portal, Randall walked toward the bedroom. At least with Anna he could have a little fun. She was a perfect plaything, and she was all his. He opened the door and went through to complete the bonding, undoing his belt buckle on the way. No one was going to stop him this time.