Queen of Quarantine

by Caroline Peckham

  The gown was a deep blood red and hugged my figure with a plunging neckline that almost reached my belly button. It was seriously overkill for a family dinner, but I’d had dinner with this family before and knew it was no normal affair. I couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for Kyan growing up around these psychopaths. And it was odd to think that the one of them who cared for him most was possibly the most bloodthirsty of them all. It was clear to me Niall would go to the ends of the earth for his nephew, so that made him a friendly psycho I guessed.

  Kyan walked on my left with Blake beyond him and Saint and Monroe flanked my right. They were dressed in expensive black suits that matched, all of them looking good enough to eat. And I got the feeling they felt the same way about me as their eyes kept raking over my body.

  I drew on the power of their company, feeling like an empress among emperors. The five of us could face any fate together. We’d defied death itself, looked it in the eye and made it bow to us. And we were fully capable of making life follow suit.

  Saint slid his phone out of his pocket beside me, a notification lighting up on the screen for a news report.

  He smiled smugly as he clicked on it and he was taken to a website showing the video Kyan had made of the inside of the camp they’d been taken to.

  “Troy Memphis refuses to comment on the footage leaked from inside what are being termed Hades Camps,” Saint read the article aloud, his voice filled with victory. “The Governor of State is being asked to answer for the terrible conditions seen in the footage received by an anonymous source and offer an explanation as to the need for such camps when the public could simply continue to isolate at home. The video has sparked more fear among an already fearful nation and protestors have been swarming the streets in Hemlock City to fight the quarantine rules they have been put under. Troy Memphis’s wife has publicly announced their separation this morning in response to the news. She was quoted saying that he had ‘lost his way’ and she asked him to ‘give the people an answer to the questions being asked of him.’ She states she was unaware of any such camps and that she and Mr Memphis have been separated discretely for the past year.”

  “Is that true?” I asked in surprise and Saint nodded.

  “There’s been no love lost between them for a long time. His usefulness to her has run its course. She’s separating herself from a man she barely knows, let alone desires. She would occasionally ask me to meet up with her in the past, but I’ve been spared that chore since lockdown. Honestly, the woman is mostly harmless, but she also just stood by and allowed that man to raise me with whatever methods he deemed fit. So I feel no great affection for her,” Saint said, no emotion in his voice and I could see in his eyes that he really didn’t care. He smiled wickedly, tucking his phone away. “The fox is on the run,” he said with a grin. “And the hounds of the Devil are coming for him.”

  “We’ll catch him,” Kyan growled and the rest of us nodded. “And we’ll end this.”

  We made it to the huge dining room where the table was set for six at the far end. Kyan took a seat to the right of the head of the table, pulling me down beside him.

  “The rest of you had better sit on the other side,” Kyan instructed, taking my hand and clasping it tight.

  They all shared annoyed looks as Kyan leaned back in his seat and rested my hand on his knee.

  “She’s my wife and belongs to no one else as far as my grandpa knows,” Kyan said seriously and Saint pushed Blake and Monroe towards the seats beside him as he dropped into the one beside the head of the table.

  “We will play along for now,” Saint said, smoothing down his shirt as he undid his blazer button at his waist.

  “For now,” Monroe growled, and Blake nodded stiffly.

  “Only for Liam,” I said.

  “Come on, it’s not just for my grandpa. We all know I’m your favourite, baby,” Kyan purred and I opened my mouth to rebuke him as the others did the same, but then the doors opened and Liam strode in followed by a butler with a tray of drinks.

  Liam’s imposing aura filled the room as he moved to the end of the table, ignoring us as he dropped into his seat and the butler placed a crystal glass of whiskey in front of him before placing one in front of each of us. He wore a smart grey suit which matched his hair, perfectly put together just as he’d been every other time I’d seen him. He lifted his glass, taking in the aroma of the alcohol as he swirled it under his nose, still acting oblivious to our presence. And I got the feeling he wouldn’t like it if any of us broke the silence before he did.

  “This is the perfect whiskey to make a toast with,” Liam mused in his lilting Irish accent, raising his glass and we all lifted ours in response. “To my nephew, his beautiful wife, and his faithful friends. May loyalty run thick in your veins, lest your blood be spilled like a river through this very house.” He sipped his whiskey and my skin prickled as I mimicked him, his warning clear and ringing in the air.

  “Hm…notes of mango, apricots, a touch of honey and…a finish of woody spices,” Saint said, his eyes closed like a prime pretentious douchebag and I almost snorted at how intrigued Liam looked by the comment. “Is it Bushmills twenty one year single malt?”

  “It is,” Liam said in surprise, glancing at Kyan. “I didn’t realise your friend had such good taste.”

  “He has the finest taste,” I said a little teasingly and Liam’s eyes cut to me.

  “That so?” he asked as Saint smiled smugly.

  “Yeah, well he thinks he does anyway,” I replied.

  “The kings of the world know they are royal before they are crowned,” Saint said. “If you assume the life you wish to lead before you have it, the world must one day offer it up. It is inevitable.”

  A beat of tense silence passed then Liam laughed, clapping a hand to Saint’s shoulder and shaking him. “I like you, lad.”

  Servants arrived with our first course, laying out little plates of bruschetta for everyone and we all silently tucked into our food.

  By the time our main course arrived, the silence was making my ears ache and I glanced over the table, catching Blake’s eye as he offered me a cheeky wink when no one was looking. It was super risky and made my heart race, but I couldn’t help but slide my foot further under the table to brush my leg against his.

  “So.” Liam dabbed at his mouth with his napkin as he finished his meal, tossing it down and taking a sip of water as his eyes fell on Kyan. “We have received an invitation to the annual Moguls’ Banquet at Royaume D’élite,” he announced, letting that axe fall and my stomach knotted as I glanced nervously at the others. “We will head there together next week.”

  “No,” Kyan’s hard voice rang through the room.

  “Excuse me, lad?” Liam asked dangerously, his fingers brushing the knife beside his plate.

  I took Kyan’s hand, sitting upright in my chair as I readied to go to bat for my husband if he needed me. Because there was no way he could go there again. Not when Troy would have seen the passport photos from the camp they’d been sent to. He’d have put the puzzle together and realised their antibody levels were so high because they’d taken a vaccine, figured out that my boys were the ones who’d saved me from his fucking lab. And we couldn’t go anywhere near that man unless we were in a position to destroy him.

  “I can’t go,” Kyan said, staring his grandfather down while Saint observed the situation critically.

  “And why not?” Liam growled, his eyes glinting with darkness.

  Kyan looked to me then the others, his lips pressed tight together. “I just can’t.”

  Liam opened his mouth, but Saint got there first, speaking calmly yet capturing all of our attention with the power behind his words. “Unfortunately, Mr O’Brien, your grandson - along with the rest of us - have made a few powerful enemies recently. Enemies who include my father.” My heart pounded harder, unsure if this information should be handed over to Liam so easily, but I trusted Saint’s judgement. And if he thought
this was what needed to be done, then I had to let him do it.

  Liam’s eyes narrowed as he regarded Saint. “Oh?” He rounded on Kyan. “What’ve you gotten yourself into, lad?” His voice was cutting, and I could see the murderous man he was on full display, his shiny exterior cracking to show the monster within.

  Saint continued as if Liam had addressed him. “We stole vaccines from my father’s laboratory and took them. All of our blood now contains valuable antibodies and he’s on a war path to destroy us for the mess we left of his facility. I have had my suspicions for some time that he is an important member of Royaume D’élite, so Kyan cannot risk going there or he will be captured the moment he arrives.”

  Liam drummed his fingers on the table and I noticed a large gold signet ring with a shamrock engraved in it on his middle finger. “Vaccines, you say?”

  “Yes, they were in the trial stages, but by all accounts are entirely effective,” Saint said.

  “Hmm.” Liam grazed his hand over his smooth jaw as he looked from Saint to his grandson, his expression giving nothing away about his feelings on the mention of a vaccine. “Well, it seems you’ve got yourself into quite the mess, Kyan,” he said coolly. “I will give you until the end of the month to fix it. Troy Memphis is a powerful man. If you can handle him, I’d say you may just be able to handle the family business. But you will do this by your own hand, don’t go calling on your uncle Niall or I’ll step in and deal with this situation myself.” He smiled conspiratorially as he pushed out his seat. “Consider it a test of your capabilities.” He strode past Kyan then laid a hand on my shoulder, his skin hot against mine as he dug his fingers into collar bone. “And if you fail, I’ll be forced to offer up retribution to Mr Memphis somehow. There are three people sitting at this table who would go a long way to pacifying him. Remember that, my boy.” He strode from the room and a chill swept down my spine from his threat.

  “Let’s adjourn to our room,” Saint said, standing from his seat, not seeming at all rattled by the threat, but I sure as shit was. “Our next conversation is best had in private.”

  “Adjourn,” Blake sniggered and Saint smacked him around the head as he led the way out.

  Monroe followed them but as I got up, Kyan tugged on my fingers to keep me there, giving me an intent look. “I’ll fix this,” he said in a whisper, his words laced with a promise.

  I reached up to cup his jaw, the pads of my fingers grazing over his stubble. “No, Kyan, we will fix this.”

  I turned and he hounded after me, his hand on my waist as we exited the dining room. Some of Liam’s staff were walking toward us with little glasses of chocolate and vanilla ice cream, seeming surprised we were leaving already. Blake grabbed one, dunking his fingers into a glass and sucking the sugary gloop off of them with a grin. “I’ll take them all.” He gathered them up in his arms as Saint tsked at him and kept walking while a smile pulled at my lips. I jogged forward, snatching one from Blake and hooking a spoon off a tray before dunking it into the ice cream. It tasted like a dream and I moaned as I swallowed, earning myself hungry looks from all of my guys.

  Saint arched an eyebrow at me over his shoulder and I smirked.

  “What? Are you gonna try and force me back onto the lettuce and carrot diet you had me on before?” I asked, my voice sharp enough to tell him I wasn’t fond of that memory. “Because I will fight you.”

  “No,” he said simply and I frowned, jogging to his side and swallowing another mouthful of ice cream.

  “Because you know I won’t listen or…” I trailed off, leaving it open for him to answer.

  “Because I have witnessed your waist too thin and your ribs too prominent at the hands of my father. I will never control a single thing that enters your body again, siren. I will not be like the man who tried to own your body and use it as he saw fit.”

  My heart stuttered and I leaned my head against his shoulder, grateful for his words as he wound an arm around my waist.

  “You’re not like him,” I whispered.

  “I am. But I would like to be better than him too,” he said.

  “You are,” I swore and his fingers ran in soft circles against my side, the tension in his brow easing.

  We made it back to our room and headed inside, the sound of the door locking making the tension run out of my shoulders. I placed my empty ice cream glass down on the side with the spoon, still a bit hungry for more.

  “Will you undo my zip? This dress is digging in everywhere,” I asked Saint and he moved behind me, his fingers skating down my spine as he freed me from it.

  I let it drop to my ankles, stepping out of it with a sigh of relief and throwing myself down on the bed in nothing but my silky green panties with my black high heels still on. The dress hadn’t allowed for a bra.

  “Get dressed,” Saint clipped. “We need to have an important conversation and I cannot lay out my thoughts clearly with you looking like that and while the others are staring at you like hungry dogs.”

  I lifted my head up, finding Blake, Kyan and Nash all shoulder to shoulder at the end of the bed, their eyes darkened by sinful thoughts. Ooh. Blake was still eating a pot of ice cream and it looked like he was having ideas about where he wanted to put it next. I had some ideas myself…

  I bit my lip, fluttering my lashes as I soaked in their attention for a moment, but I knew Saint wasn’t going to let us have our fun.

  “Come on, I’ll help you find something comfortable.” Monroe scooped me up, throwing me over his shoulder and I laughed as he strode into the walk-in closet and kicked the door shut. He set me down and kissed me roughly, his desire for me making me ache. But Saint had a point. We needed to discuss this. So it was with a lot of effort that I slipped away from Nash and grabbed a white cami, pulling it on.

  Monroe rested his shoulder on the wall beside me, watching me with an intensity that could have burned the world to ash.

  “You make being a good girl very hard, Nash Monroe,” I teased as he slid his thumb across his lower lip.

  “You make being a bad man so very fucking easy, Tatum Rivers,” he purred.

  “Roscoe,” Kyan corrected as he shoved through the door, folding his thick arms with a cocky smirk.

  Nash grimaced. “I think we need to change that.”

  “Seconded,” I sang, pulling on a pair of light pink sweatpants before grabbing some comfy socks and jogging between them to exit the closet. Kyan slapped my ass as I went and I tossed him the finger in response, a grin tugging at my mouth.

  Blake was on the bed, polishing off the last of the ice creams and I jumped on the mattress to lie beside him, swiping one from his grip and swirling my finger inside the glass. He smirked at me as he swallowed a mouthful, his dark hair falling forward into his eyes. He’d shed his blazer and rolled up his shirt sleeves to reveal his muscular forearms and I eye-fucked him shamelessly as I rested back against the pillows.

  “Looking good, golden boy,” I purred.

  “I taste good too. C’mere and have a lick.” He wiggled his eyebrows, leaning toward me and Saint clapped his hands.

  “Enough,” he said sharply from across the room, looking from us on the bed to Kyan and Nash as they slumped down in chairs beside a roaring fire. “We must talk before this descends into another orgy. Christ, I cannot get a word in edgeways without someone whipping their cock out these days.”

  I snorted a laugh as Kyan tugged his tie loose from his throat, tossing it on the floor before throwing his blazer away too and starting to unbutton his shirt. He left it hanging open when he was done and I eyed the tattoos peeking out from beneath the white material with my fingers itching, the urge to explore them rising in me.

  “Must we all act like hellions?” Saint clipped, clasping his hands behind his back. “I was quite enjoying the attire. Nash is the only one of you who has any decorum.”

  “Sorry, bro. Dressing smart ain’t my bag.” Blake shrugged.

  “And I’d hardly say I have decorum,” Nash snor
ted.

  Kyan sniggered beside him. “You definitely don’t, brother. Not after you bent Tatum over the other day and-”

  “I said enough,” Saint hissed and everyone fell quiet as his eyes swung between us. “Now, we have to discuss the matter of Royaume D’élite. We don’t yet have ample information to connect my father to it.”

  “But you made a guess so we can be pretty sure, right?” Blake asked and Saint shuddered at the word ‘guess.’

  “No, we cannot be sure,” Saint growled. “And even if we were, my father is already in hiding. He could disappear altogether if we are not careful. What I need is cold, hard evidence so I can drag my father’s name through every media outlet in the country when I expose him, hunt him down and make sure he pays for every crime he has committed. When I am through, there won’t be an American citizen alive who doesn’t know his name and what a loathsome cockroach he is.”

  “So how are we going to get that evidence?” I asked, sitting up and folding my legs, willing to do whatever it took. “And how are we going to destroy that disgusting club while we’re at it?” My upper lip peeled back and Kyan smirked at me across the room, his eyes glittering darkly.

  Saint straightened his tie. “We are going to go to Royaume D’élite and find it, siren. I have weighed the options, the risks and have deduced that the club is the only place which will hold such evidence. There must be a file either on a computer or in hard copy form within the building itself listing the founders and the members of the club. It is the only way they could conduct business between one another, the only way a number could be assigned to new members. Therefore-”

  “We’re going on an adventure?” Blake finished, bouncing on the bed beside me and I laughed.

  “Not my words, but yes,” Saint said, a vicious smile pulling at his lips. “Of course, I would like to propose the four of us go and Tatum stays behind, but-”

  “No,” I growled instantly, and he nodded firmly.