Over the course of several hours the bar filled with a myriad of clients from all walks of life. The music pumped through the crowd and the drinks flowed like water as the night unfolded. The atmosphere of the club between five and nine in the evening was always a thrill to observe. Especially when the hint of some incantation filled the crowd and one could bathe in their own transition from stressed to relaxed through a mixture of libations, lust, and desire—almost as if it was pumped through the ventilation and inhaled in small doses like a time-release capsule for better living.
He stood in his office studying the crowd through the mirror for any early signs of trouble. No matter how many times his eyes roamed over the scene developing below, his head habitually turned, affording him the pleasure of fixating upon his new interest.
The high-pitched beep-beep-beep of his cell phone alarm resonated through the quiet office distracting him from his intense perusal of Temperance. His fifteen-minute heads-up for Bane’s “party” stirred those salty unresolved moods from deep within his core.
With a steadying breath, he made his way to the private washroom. His hands gripped the sides of the sink as he stared at himself in the mirror.
“You’re stronger now. More talented.” His pep talk played through his mind on a loop as he prepared to see the man he’d been trying to get rid of for more than a decade.
A brief couple of raps tapped on the door. “Boss?”
Raiden shoved through the doorway and left all his doubt back with his reflection. “What is it?”
Henry’s jaw tightened and he stood like a sentry. “He’s arrived. Came through the main club entrance.”
The thumping off his heart quelled as he shoved the anxiety down. He absorbed Henry’s report, replaying the plan in his mind. “Okay. Good.”
“Would you like us to unlock the door on this side?”
Raiden shook his head. “No. Go back down to the desk. I’ll let you know if it comes to that.”
“Okay. It’s your call.” Henry turned to exit the office.
“Hey.”
“Yeah, Boss.”
“You and the crew good?”
Henry scanned the office for a moment before his eyes came back to meet Raiden’s. He nodded.
They both held onto the intense moment before Raiden nodded in return. “It’ll be over soon.”
Henry’s sentry stance relaxed a tad.
“Go on. Get outta here. We got work to do.” Raiden gestured back to the front desk.
His eyes followed Henry’s retreat. Raiden stared at Temperance one last time before having to entertain the devil.
The air fogged with a smoky haze rolling underneath the door of the party room and memories flooded back. Raiden shook his head to clear his thoughts of the past.
“Hello.” Seymour stuck out a hand. “How are you this fine evening?”
The two men stared at each other briefly, going through the motions and knowing Bane lurked in the smoke-laden chamber. They both had to make things look natural, nothing could catch Bane’s suspecting eye.
“Great. And you?” He shook hands with Bane’s longtime assistant, who’d been with Bane longer than Candi and he had been a team. One of the few Bane trusted without question.
“Everything’s going as it should,” he intoned emphatically. “Everything.”
Raiden nodded in understanding. “How was your flight in from Negril this morning?” He layered the small talk as they strolled deeper into the party room. When no reply came, he looked over his shoulder at Seymour.
There was genuine surprise across the other man’s face. “I thought you knew. We’ve been stateside for the past few months. Moving around a bit in the Southern area of the country.” The two paused for a moment.
“Even made trips to Pious?” Raiden gritted his teeth knowing the answer already.
Seymour hesitated. “If he did, he didn’t take me with him.”
Which meant, yes. And what timing indeed. Fury pulsed through his veins realizing the problems going on in town likely coincided with Bane’s arrival to the US. Crimson blurred his vision with the idea of Bane making it seem like it was Raiden’s fault. His fists clenched and the infusion of adrenaline forced a terse, “Seth never mentioned it in your conversations?”
Seymour’s grimace-like smile in response only deepened Raiden’s bubbling rage—not at Seymour—but at Bane and everything that bastard was putting them all through.
“Where have you all been staying?”
“In an old mansion east of here—”
“The Blackstone Plantation?”
Seymour nodded. “The dungeon and old slave quarters is where he’s stashed most of us…”
Raiden’s muscles tightened, his back stood stiff, and the palms of his hands hurt as he dug his fisted fingers deeper. His brain flipped back to his mantra and he knew he had to tamp down his anger. As much as he wanted to shit can Bane now, he couldn’t. Just one more day—the plan. High emotions would only distract him, which was what Bane preyed upon.
A waiter came through with glasses full of rich blues, pinks, and greens; each garnished with fruit and a drop of dry ice. Seymour reached for one of the concoctions as Raiden shook a slight “no” in his direction.
“Natural. The plan was natural.” His long fingers wrapped around the tall glass even as Raiden heeded the warning.
His skin crawled listening to the recent news of Bane’s MO. “He’s taking more and more. Simply doing as he pleases with no remorse. He’s so out of control, and a lot of people in the circle have been taking note.” Seymour pulled the green liquid to his lips.
“I know it’s tough. But why else is he here? We both know there is more to his motives. There is no gray, and negotiation is never an option; it’s always his way—no arguments, no decisions to be made.” Raiden held his tongue at the rest of his thought. He knew Bane had no time for things he did not want, and as the Cards were dealt, the fine streak of jealousy found him and spoiled anything that may have been good deep within him.
Raiden made sure to remember this last point. He kept it close to his heart since that had forced his hand to leave ten years ago and find his own way without all the sin and radical twists Bane had tried to force upon him.
Inside his head, he mentally checked off the last of his items on the plan, as they made their way deeper into the room.
Raiden’s eyes burned from the ever-thickening vapor and smog encircling his head. The various sweet and bitter smells were pungent and overwhelming as he walked through the room of barely clad men and women. A signature style of a Bane party.
A large wicked palm slapped down upon Raiden’s shoulder as he passed it. There was no need for inspecting the intrusive hit, it wasn’t a random occurrence. He knew from whom that strike had come from. What limited skills Bane had, he tried to use them to prove he wasn’t some wannabe Sorcerer. Being the real thing and developing his skills should have put the balance in Raiden’s favor, but Bane had just enough cunning to utilize it against him.
Seymour melted away into the crowd, which was fine with Raiden. The squeeze upon his shoulder guided Raiden to the window that overlooked Candi’s side of the bar, it was on purpose, for effect. He turned and Bane was dressed to the nines, fancy suit and all. Fifteen years Raiden’s senior and at forty-eight years old, he was still broad shouldered, bulging traps, barrel chested, and chorded with muscles from head to toe. Bane garnered looks from both sexes, which he exploited readily.
“Hello, old friend.” Bane grinned and the glint of hells fire glistened behind his pupils. “Nice place you’ve established here.”
“Good to see you too.” He refused to let his guard down at any time. He’d spent the last ten years licking his wounds and learning from his mistakes. He knew he could smile and play the game. He had learned from the best over the years and Bane’s power no longer held any value over his head—or so he hoped. “Really, great party, by the way.”
Bane smirked at Raiden’s feigned sincerity. “Let’s grab a drink downstairs.”
Raiden raised a brow. “And leave your own party?”
“We haven’t seen each other in a long time, Ray.” He dragged out the ‘y’ and caused the inferno to turn up inside of Raiden. Losing his control so early in the game wasn’t in the plan though and he swallowed the fury down. “I want a nice quiet corner to sip a drink, and share a few stories.”
Without a word, Raiden escorted Bane to a side bar, downstairs, in a smaller room with booths around the edges of a tiny dance floor. He’d seethed for a moment looking over the main bar from above. In no way did he want Bane to see Temperance. A cool head needed to prevail however, if his execution of the plan were to work.
His ties to Bane were closely married to Tempest, something he’d worked hard for on his own when their shared business ideas to expand took divergent paths. But an old contract handcuffed Raiden to Bane, and he still had a bit of leverage over the club—and Raiden, for that matter.
But not for long. Not forever.
Seated and drinks on order, Seth started the conversation in a candid manner but Raiden knew Seth Bane well; he was the serpent who lurked in the garden. “Would you like one now, or maybe one for later?” He pulled out his handkerchief and opened it, revealing several small, round pills.
Raiden averted his eyes. Bane wanted to treat this meeting like all the others in the past, but those days were over. “I’m good. So, what brings you into town—specifically, to my club, right now? Getting bored in the big city?” he taunted with a smirk as the server placed Bane’s tequila down and Raiden’s tonic and lime.
Bane secured the pills back in his suit pocket, clearly not happy at Raiden’s high-handedness of the conversation. He gave a close-lipped smile before answering. “Negril is in need of a little…wholesome type. You know, ones who don’t mind riding a bull or making sure a cowgirl gets satisfied the right way. I think the country infusion is just the charm we need to pick up business and continue the hype at Hedonism. You have sampled the goods, correct?”
“I haven't been here long enough to sample. Still settling in.” Raiden chose his words carefully.
With his eyes zoned in on Bane, who toyed with his shot, Raiden dipped a finger in the top of the tequila and lifted it to his lips, sucking off the biting drop. He then lifted his tonic, tilted the tumbler in Bane’s direction and drank down the cool fizzy liquid. Normally, one of Bane’s entourage tested his food and spirits. A wry smile crept over Raiden’s face as he taunted Lucifer himself.
Bane sipped his tequila down and waved two fingers at the server for another.
“Well, good then. They’re all fair game and fresh for the taking.” Bane winked and scanned the room, locking on Temperance, who had managed to come their way. She peered back at Raiden but quickly darted out of view when he frowned at her. “What about her? Negril could use a little dash of that.” His tongue slithered out of his mouth as he reached for his next shot. Raiden kept his hand fisted around his tonic.
Negril, Jamaica, was Bane’s main base of operations for his fleet of resorts that catered to…unusual tastes. One that Raiden had, at first, enjoyed, but it’d quickly become something he’d ended up hating. The pretense of him ‘shopping’ around for new employees for Bane’s flagship club, Hedonism, was a cover and with Bane, he was always up to something.
“Anyone but my employees.” Although Temperance wasn’t officially his, the Cards had said he was destined for her and he knew he was worthy of that gift—a gift directly from the Goddess herself. If things went as planned, all could be forgotten, like waking up from a bad nightmare and he could finally be free of his former mentor and his current tormentor. “And I won’t budge on that.”
“Hmm.” Bane’s fingers drew to his chin. His beady eyes searching for another glimpse of Temperance. He leaned back as their server dropped off another tequila. The very thought of Bane’s hands on her made him break out into a cold sweat and he resisted the urge to fidget and give himself away. He swallowed hard as he contemplated the plan. If Bane knew what was at stake, the serpent himself would take her just to spite him and prove that the High Priestess’s prediction in the Cards was wrong.
“You still drink Partida Elegante?”
Bane smacked his lips. “Only the best will do…”
Raiden counted on that. “I’ll be sure to have it stocked for you while you’re here.”
“Excellent.”
For once, Raiden was grateful for Bane’s arrogance and predictability, especially in his habits and attitudes. He truly thought he was untouchable.
Enjoy it while it lasts. Raiden pulled another drag from his glass.
“We’ll see if I have enough to work with, given those constraints.” Bane tipped the double shot of tequila back and stood. “I’d better get back to the party before tryouts begin and they wonder where I’ve gone.”
Raiden exhaled, relieved their discussion was over. “Yeah, I’ll have them switch the glass for you to opaque.”
“Why? Have you grown so mainstream?” Bane lifted from his seat and smoothed out his suit.
“Not testing the waters too soon.”
“Shying away from the fun?”
Raiden rose to meet him eye to eye. “No, but this town isn't quite ready for what you have to offer. In fact, we’ve had a spat of locals acting oddly since we broke ground and it’s only gotten worse within the past few months.”
Bane merely smiled, his white teeth gleaming in the dim light. “Acting oddly?” He tsk-tsked. “Doesn’t sound like anything to be worried about at all…”
“I’m not young and naïve anymore.” Raiden fisted his hands at his sides. “Just remember that.”
Bane made a show of adjusting his tie—smoothing it over with deft precision. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, the festivities are just getting started—but first things first.” He ran his gangly fingers through his hair. Then he strolled toward the stairs before strutting his way up to the barstools, his full attention on Temperance.
Swearing to himself, Raiden trudged behind the bar, making his presence known. He needed to piss on his territory, so Bane understood his place in his club.
No one would derail his plans. Raiden had spent too much time detailing how Bane would fall, and gathering allies over the years had not been easy. Bane’s cunning, calculating and ruthless intelligence had long been an attribute to his success as much as his ego. But Raiden knew they also deceived him over the years, rationalizing his abusive and self-destructive behaviors. Raiden planned to use those weaknesses to his advantage and the many battles he’d lost, more than ever, there was no choice but to win this war.