Blood Legacy by Lebeault Marie-Hélène

Author:Lebeault, Marie-Hélène
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781990656361
Publisher: Beaches and Trails Publishing
Published: 2022-06-20T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Three

Jameson pushed him out the door where another initiate waited his turn. As Alistair walked down the hall, he saw Kenya standing by a door. When he reached her, she motioned for him to go in. It was the room behind the theater.

Another hooded figure beckoned him from the other end of the room where he and Derek had arrived.

“Brother Alistair, place the robe in the basket. Another will be provided when you return,” he said gesturing at the large laundry basket in the corner.

“Report to work as usual tomorrow. After dinner, return here for further instructions.”

He opened the door that led back into the theater and Alistair walked out.

He went back to their suite. Finding it empty, he went to his room to update the MFO. This was a huge breakthrough. The Master’s cryptic words about succession would, at the very least, ensure that he rose quickly through the ranks until he was part of the inner circle.

Once his duty had been dispatched, he brushed his teeth and gargled with mouthwash. He jumped in the shower and tried to wash the creepiness of the night away. He had planned on disinfecting the wound on his palm and the brand, but the wound had healed and the skin over the brand was smooth and healthy. It looked like a tattoo, only a shade darker than his skin. He hadn’t bothered to look at what it was they had branded him with. The circular symbol was stamped a few inches above the elbow where it would be covered by a t-shirt. It was an inverted pentagram with a drop of blood dripping from the bottom tip.

Alistair put on his pajamas and got into bed. He left his door open and grabbed a book to read while he waited for Derek. He couldn’t focus on his book. He kept going through the evening’s events in his mind. He wished he had the gift of illusion or a spycam so he could go back to observe things he might have missed. Like The Master’s face.

When Derek still hadn’t returned at ten o’clock, Alistair got up, locked the front door, and went to bed. It seemed that Derek had gotten lucky.

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