by Amo Jones
“So strange.” Her interest grew the farther we went in. Slowly, the purple flowers began to sink into the dark roses until there was no more color. We reached the end of the main street and the stone had come back, leading upstairs that once again, brought you to two heavy metal doors.
Madison turned around with Tatum copying her. “What? Is that it?”
Tinker pressed the button on the door. “No. And girls, if you want to live, I would watch your words beyond this door.”
My eyes cut to Tinker. “Threaten them again and I’ll slice your fucking neck like I did your mother. Open the fucking door. I’m done playing games, Tinker.”
Madison stilled beside me, her hand squeezing mine instantly. The gesture in itself was cute, but I wasn’t mad or raging. I hardly ever lost my cool, which was exactly why I was where I was.
Tinker’s face flushed. “Sorry.” She opened the door out onto the stone floor and lobby to what looked like a normal mansion home entry. Only it wasn’t a normal home. Soft piano music was whispering through the air, and I pushed Madison back, walking in first. Nate was behind me, and then Jase, Hunter, Saint, and whoever else followed. Madison was second to last, sandwiched between Eli and Cash.
“Well, well, well, to what do I owe the pleasure of having the elite in my home?” Katsia came walking down the spiral stairs in nothing but a white silk robe, displaying her black lace panties and bra. Her hair was messed up and falling over her shoulders. She had a glass of scotch dangling from her hand. Running her fingers through her hair to push it out of her face, her eyes raked down my body.
“You’re growing well, B.” She licked her lips and then curled her finger. “Come on, we can talk in the sitting room. You woke me.”
“We woke you?” I rose an eyebrow.
She bit her lip, flashing me a grin over her shoulder. “Well, sort of.” The story of Katsia was a complicated one. Katsia Stuprum. In English, she was Seduction. She oozed sex, even when she wasn’t trying. There were rumors that said she would do things to the Lost Boys, and I wasn’t sure how much of that was true, but Katsia being Katsia, I was sure the boys would be fighting to get into her bed.
She had fucked all of the Kings in our generation and everyone in Jase and Saints generation - bar one, too, but not me. Not from lack of trying on her part, because she had, but she wasn’t my type, and I don’t mean the age. I mean just the her.
She pushed open doors that were at the end of the corridor and they spread out onto a sitting room that looked the size of a basketball court. There was a large gas fire lit and sitting in the middle of the vast space with lazy boys scattered out of order. There was a large U-shaped sofa that faced one cosmic floor to ceiling window. It gave you a direct view to the ocean. The white silica-like sand was immediately right there, and the pearl crystal ocean was crashing against the untouched rocks.
“Jesus,” Tate exhaled, nudging Madison.
I took a seat on the sofa and pulled Madison down beside me. There was a large white leather hand-shaped chair which was opposite us, where Katsia took a seat, with two armored guards standing on either side of her. She crossed her legs, smirked, and then took a sip of her drink. “Good to see you again, Madison. Not surprised but slightly disappointed that you’re still alive.”
Madison didn’t reply, she remained impassive as her arm brushed against mine. I leaned back on the couch, allowing my arm to go over the edge of it, pulling her into me more.
“What’s going on, Katsia? Why the fuck am I getting phone calls?”
She cleared her throat, resting her glass on her knee. “Who do I have to fuck to get out of this?”
“You can’t fuck your way out of this one. You have someone who is one of our own.”
Her eyes came to mine, and behind the seductive glare, I saw a stroke of annoyance. Good. I want her angry because that’s the only way to get truth out of Katsia.
“He is not yours, he is mine.” Her eyes finally rested on Madison where she dropped her stare to icy levels. “Blood or no blood, make no mistake, he is mine.”
Madison shuffled in her seat. “Um, so I’m confused, are you talking about my brother? Because if you are, trust me, he’s all yours, but I just want to make sure he’s safe.”
Katsia’s eyes slowly rolled, her smile coming back to her face. “As safe as he’ll ever be.” Then she looked at me. “But that’s not speaking for all.”
Fuck.
I could feel the slight twitch in Bishop’s arm as soon as Katsia said ‘but that’s not speaking for all.’ I turned my attention to her. “What does that mean?”
Her smug smirk deepened. “Oh, he didn’t tell you…”
“Tell her what?” Nate interjected, leaning forward on his elbows.
Katsia burst out laughing, her head tilting back while she swirled the whiskey around in her glass. “Oh this is great.” Her eyes cut to Bishop. “You’re quite the secret keeper, King.”
“What the fuck is she talking about?” I whispered, my eyes fluttering closed.
Nate tilted his head, his eyes flying to Bishop briefly.
“I didn’t tell either of them because it’s a distraction.”
“And you gave her your word…” Katsia’s eyebrow quirked.
“My word doesn’t mean shit with anyone else but a King or Madison. I would break it in a heartbeat if I needed to, but I didn’t need to,” he challenged Katsia.
I shuffled uncomfortably. “Well, as much as I’ve gotten really easy with letting you keep your secrets, I feel like I need to know this one.”
“Word,” Nate mumbled, leaning back. Tate’s eyes were going between the three of us.
“Well,” Katsia giggled, leaning forward and setting her glass on the small table in front of her. “As much as I’m loving this little thing that’s going on, I’m on borrowed time, so...” She cranked her head at one of her guards, gave him a direct look and then nodded her head. The guard turned and walked out of the room. The silence that stretched out between all of us was deafening and only made me more uncomfortable. Katsia’s grin was firmly fixed on her face the entire time.
The heavy footsteps broke the silence and my head swung to the opening. The guard stepped away, and— “Tillie!” I shot off the couch, my breathing sinking in shallow heaves. I couldn’t believe it was really her! It was her, wasn’t it? I reached out to touch her.
Katsia giggled, standing from her chair. “She’s been here the whole time.”
Nate stood up behind me, and I chanced a quick stare at him. His eyes were fixed on Tillie, and hers on him. “Did you know this whole time?” was all he said.
“Me?” My hand came to my chest. “No!”
“Not you.” He cut his eyes down to Bishop. “You.”
Bishop’s jaw was ticking under the pressure; his lip was slightly curled at Katsia. “Yes.”
I exhaled, my fingers coming to my temples. “What the fuck is going on?” I started walking toward Tillie, but the guard stood in front of her again, blocking me. “Get the fuck out of my way.”
“Kitty,” Bishop growled.
“You can shut up,” I replied softly without looking at him. I was angry that her being here wasn’t new information to him and that he had known for a long time—probably all of the time. “Tillie?” I tilted my head to try and get a clearer view of her behind the big man of steel in front of me. He slowly stepped aside, and it was the first time I got a real look at what she looked like now. She was in a white gown that cut off at her knees. The straps were thick and rolled over her shoulder, displaying her arms. Her face was bare of any makeup and her eyes looked like ripples of lightening laced in a blue sky. She looked broken. Her hair had been brushed down, falling over her shoulders, with the pink now washed out to a faded pastel color and her re-growth evident.
“Tillie?” I stepped toward her again. Her face fell. “Are you ok?”
She raised her head and her eyes came to mine, a single tear sneaking out. “I—I’m, I mean, I wa
s…”
“That’s enough!” Katsia snapped, and then quickly composed herself. “Take a seat with Nate, Tillie.” Katsia rolled her eyes. “Before he kills me.”
Tillie came toward us and as soon as she was within reach, Nate’s arm snaked out and pulled her into him. He sunk her down next to him and I dropped down on the other side of her. She smelled like bleach and antiseptic. Something was going on, something that I couldn’t understand—again, and until I found out exactly what it was that Bishop was hiding from me this time, I wasn’t sure how I felt with him. Again. Yes, I loved him, but love should never be used as a doormat. When will this shit end. Right now, Nate needed me more than anyone else, so when his hand went over the edge of the couch, I brought my right hand up to where his curled around my shoulder and laced my fingers with his. At the connection, I felt a jolt of power and anger. Anger amongst all that Nate was a King, yet something was held from him about Tillie—why?
“Why?” I snapped, suddenly having enough of the song and dance and ready to put her on a plane with Daemon and fly the fuck out of this place.
“Why, what?” Katsia quirked an eyebrow at me. She was an expert at making you feel inferior, but this time, my anger wasn’t going to allow me to cower to her like I had in the past.
“You know what, Katsia, cut the bullshit. Why was Tillie here?”
“Oh,” Katsia waved her hand casually. “Well, she was pregnant, of course.”
I sucked in a breath. My head pounded and colorful little dots danced in my bleak vision. I felt Nate’s hand still in my grip. He let me go and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “What?” The depth of his tone was enough to put the fear of the Lord into the devil.
Tate stood from the corner of my eye and walk to the window. Bishop’s leg pressed against mine roughly and I could hear the shuffling of a couple of the Kings who were standing behind me.
“Suddenly, shit makes sense,” Jase mumbled, rubbing the scruff on his jaw.
Tillie swiped away the tears that were streaming down her face. “Was being the correct word there.”
I stilled.
Bishop’s leg stopped flat, and Nate shot up off the couch. An armored guard stepped forward, grabbing Nate’s arm. “What do you mean was.”
Katsia’s eyes flashed to Tillie, and then to Nate. For once, I saw fear flash through them briefly. “You know the rules, Nathan.”
“Fuck you, tell me right now what the fuck is going on or I’ll snap all your guards’ necks and then feed them to you through a fucking straw!”
Katsia swallowed, shot the rest of her drink back and stood. “She couldn’t exist.”
I buried my face in my hands as realization snuck in. “What?” I whispered to myself, and then my hand came to Tillie’s. I was going to be strong for her. I didn’t know what she had been through and I don’t know why, but I didn’t care. She was my best friend and no matter what, I would stand by her. She sniffed, looked at me, and then squeezed her fingers with mine.
“I’m not walking out of this place without answers,” I whispered to her, squeezing her fingers.
“Did you kill my kid, Katsia?” Nate asked, stepping closer to her.
Katsia laughed. “Oh, wait, what made you think it was your kid?”
“And the plot thickens,” Hunter grumbled, standing from the couch to check on Tatum.
“Because I fucking know, Katsia, quit the fucking games. I’ll give you ten seconds.”
Katsia snickered. “You give her too much credit.”
“Nine.”
Bishop stood, walking beside Nate. Bishop tilted his head, pulled a smoke out of his pocket and lit it up. “Eight.” He blew out a cloud of smoke.
“Jesus Christ,” I whispered. “There’s going to be a war.” I could smell the heavy scent of spilled blood already.
Tillie’s hand squeezed mine. I looked at her. She shook her head.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“Nate! The girl had to be taken care of. You know the rules! We can’t have another” —Katsia paused just as I caught her glaring at me— “mistake out in the open.”
“Fuck you.” I flipped her off.
Bishop took another drag of his smoke, biting down on it. “Six.”
“What?” Katsia’s eyes flew between him and Nate. “I answered!”
“Yeah, but you see, we had a deal.” That was Bishop.
“The deal went out the window when she was born a swan,” Katsia retorted.
Bishop shook his head, taking the smoke out of his mouth. “The deal was that when the baby was born, I would say what happens—not you. You think you can run around and act boss bitch, Katsia? You forgot one thing.” Bishop threw the smoke onto the beautiful marble floor and squashed it with his dirty boot. “I’m the fucking boss around here.” Then Bishop’s elbow flew out to the guard beside him, knocking him onto the floor. Nate squeezed the other guard’s head and slammed it into his knees. Suddenly there was a swim of violent chaos lurking at my feet.
“We need to go!” Tillie pulled me up, but I yanked at her hand.
“No! I can’t leave them!”
“They’ll be fine, Mads, we need to go. Now.” Her eyes searched mine pleadingly like a silent conversation was being passed. Now, Madison.
Tatum came up behind Tillie. “Let’s go with her and let the boys finish the job here.”
My eyes went to Bishop just as his fingers dived into one of the guard’s eye sockets and he ripped out the balls of mush. Jesus. I watched in fascination as he then slid his blackout from his back pocket and slit it across his throat. Blood sprayed every, dancing in the thick breath of the Reaper.
I scrunched my eyes closed and nodded.
“Madison! Go with Tillie!” Bishop ordered. “Now!”
“Okay!” I snapped back at him, a jolt of shock rippling through me. My legs began following her out of the sitting room of carnage with Tate close behind me.
Tillie looked from left to right, checking the corridor, and then grabbed my arm. “Quick, we don’t have long.”
“Don’t have long for what, Tillie?”
I was answered with silence as she continued to jog down the hallway. We passed artwork knotted in serpentine strokes brushed onto blank canvases. We were all born as a blank canvas, perfectly untouched. Then life happens, and the more you age, the more paint you need. In the end, some of us would escape with our morals, leaving beautiful paint strokes from a tractable life behind on our canvas. But others, like me, will be ending with brushstrokes far too acrimonious to warrant us a ticket through the golden gates of whatever the fuck was waiting on the other side. No matter how unpleasant our canvas may be at the end, all that mattered was who was willing to gape appreciatively at us. My eyes caught a cabinet nailed to the wall. Quickly, I pulled it open and smiled when I saw it was lined with shotguns. Snagging the AR15, I checked the rounds and then quickly caught up to Tatum. Tillie pushed open a door at the end of the hallway and disappeared inside. I followed behind her and then Tatum, who I was hoping wouldn’t be too affected by not only Tillie being here but the fact that she had a kid with Nate. My head was spinning from the overload of information that it had collected over the past few minutes. I couldn’t dwell on it too much right now—couldn’t decipher my feelings in the middle of a war, but I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. About everything. All I knew was that I needed to follow Tillie. There was obviously something important that she needed to tell me or show me. She flicked the light on and I squinted from the influx of the brightness. Shading my eyes with my hand, I gazed around the room. It was small. No bed, a pile of boxes to the side. It smelled of dust mite corpses that had suffocated horrific deaths by the contained space and lack of oxygen. That’s when I saw hands clenched around the opening of a window.
“Daemon!” I whisper-screamed, just as he climbed up. He lifted the rest of himself through the window, and then gave me a small smile before turning back.
“What’s going on?”
I asked, confused with the movements.
Tillie rushed towards him, her hand going around his waist as she peeked over the windowsill. I slowly started walking towards them, my eyes going around the room. They eventually landed on Tatum, who looked as confused as I felt.
“Dae—” a baby crying broke through. I paused, leaning outside.
Tillie took the baby that was wrapped in a soft pink blanket and cradled it to her. When I looked back out the window to see who it was that passed the baby through, all I could see was the back of a retreating Tinker.
“Figures,” I muttered, snickering at her retreat.
“She’s the good in this, Mads. I promise.”
I brushed her off, which I guess I didn’t have much evidence to do that. She did help Tate and I escape, and she’s been nothing but helpful, but there was always a nudge in my gut when it came to her. Confusion, or something else, I wasn’t quite sure yet.
“Okay,” I breathed out, leaning against the windowsill. “Okay,” I repeated.
“She’s not okay,” Tate mumbled under her breath.
My chest tightened and the grip I had around the wooden edge compressed. A cold sweat broke out over my brow, my breathing coming in shallow heaves, then a cool, yet familiar hand brushed against my arm. I slowly whistled out the pent-up breath, my eyes going to Daemon. “What do I make of this, D?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. His eyebrows crossed. “I don’t…” then he paused, before continuing. “All good things, Madison.”
“We’re going to work on your English when we get back,” I mumbled my reply grumpily under my breath.
There was another cry. Turning around, my eyes fell on the little bundle that was wrapped up tightly in Tillie’s arms. I couldn’t see her face, and I wasn’t sure whether I was capable yet. Something told me I should wait—until Nate at least gets to see his daughter first. I felt as though I was trespassing on his turf by just looking at his baby before him.
“I’m sorry, Mads. The whole thing is so complicated, and I—”
“—don’t have to explain right now.” I offered her a small smile. “We have a two-hour flight you can fill me in on. For now, we need to go look for the boys.” Just as the words left my mouth, the door smashed open and Bishop stood on the threshold, shirtless with blood splattered all over his abs and his chest drawing in and out. His shoulders lifted and dropped as he sucked in each breath. I jolted to him, going on instinct to see if he was okay, but his eyes cut to mine and I flinched. His eyes were black orbs of hell and in that moment, he was barely recognizable. I stilled, my fists clenching together.