by Amo Jones
I push my bowl away and slip under the covers. “I’m so tired.”
“Mmmm,” I hear him say as he keeps eating.
“Can you turn the light off when you’re done?”
“Yeah.”
“Nate?” I murmur through a yawn.
“What, babe?”
“I’m too tired to wash your cum off my ass.”
Sleep takes me under before I hear his reply.
Nate
There are times in your life where you battle with yourself. You’re equipped with your thoughts as your weapons and your wrath as your armor. This battle is different because you don’t have a dominating army. All you have are the remnants of what’s left of you after you’ve ripped yourself apart. So you’re probably thinking ‘fuck that, that’s not a battle worth fighting.’ But sometimes, very rare times, someone comes along and shows you that they’re worth losing yourself for.
“Nate, son, I need to know where your head is with this?” Hector demands from his leather chair. He leans back, rolling a cigar between his teeth.
My head is between Tillie’s legs. “I’m in.”
Hector leans forward and Bishop shuffles beside me. The Kings are sprawled out everywhere in his office. “Are you sure? This is a touchy scene with you, what with the involvement of your old man…”
I shrug. “I don’t give a fuck about him. I’m in.”
Hector watches me, his eyes darting between mine. “Alright, son. I trust that you’re ready for this.”
Am I? I haven’t seen my father since I was probably around three years old. The memory is brief but vivid.
“You shouldn’t be here. I told you not to come!” I heard my mom whisper out harshly, closing the door slightly and standing between the crack. I didn’t know who she was talking with, but I sat on the top of the stairs and peeked through the barrier. There was a man dressed in a dark suit. He had a funny hat on his head, one that looked like Freddy Krueger. He mumbled something and my mother’s body visibly froze. She stepped backward to slam the door in his face, but his eyes shoot up to mine just in time.
“Out of curiosity, why him?” I ask, running my finger over my upper lip. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t care, but I just want to know why him.”
Hector seems to ponder my words. He’s good at that, making you think you have him worked out, or at the very least, working him out.
“Because there’s only one man walking this earth that holds about as much power as I do, and that’s your dad. But the difference between him and I is that I have morals. I care for the legacy in our world—he doesn’t.”
I let his words fly over my shoulder.
“So you want me to kill my old man?” I ask, my eyebrow cocked.
Hector shakes his head. “You can’t kill someone who lives incognito. No one knows where he is, all we know is that he has his own people. Different from our people.”
“So he has The Circle?” Bishop asks, throwing out the question that we all want the answer to.
Hector nods, flicking the ash off of his cigar. “Yes, but more than that, he has the Rebels.” The Rebels are old Kings who have done something to break one of the Elite Commandments and have been exiled from their position, whereas The Circle are Kings who have left by choice. It’s not ideal to leave The Kings, and is actually fucking frowned upon, but the men who occupy The Circle have warranted reasons as to why they have left.
Hector continues. “The only way that this will work in our favor is if we had Perdita, but we don’t completely because of how Katsia was killed. We’re lucky they’re somewhat taking orders from Khales, but that won’t last long. I think the majority of the reason as to why they are, is in an attempt to keep the island contained and their people safe. Right now, no one is working against The Kings, and they won’t—mainly because they’re smart but a little because they don’t have the numbers.” He looks directly at me. “Gabriel Malum is on a different spectrum. He can’t be killed, and we don’t want him killed. He’d be much better as an ally until we get Perdita under control. There are a whole lot of Lost Boys and no one to run them. The island itself is being held up by Khales, as you all know, but like I said, that can’t be a permanent thing—as much as she would love to have that power—it’s not hers to take.”
I kick out my leg, mulling over his words. “So put Peyton on there. Only we know that she’s not Katsia’s real daughter. They don’t need to know that and she’s still under our control.”
Hector eyes me. “She has run. We’re in the middle of finding her, but it seems she has a very good hacker in her pocket that deletes every single CCTV footage of her when it comes up.”
I let out a soft growl, fucking annoyed that I let him talk me into keeping her alive. The only reason she has the legs she ran away on is because I didn’t fucking snap them. Now I’m irked. Ignoring that, I turn to look at Hector.
“Where do you want me to meet Gabriel?”
Tillie
“Ah…ah…” I blow soft raspberries on Micaela’s bare stomach. She’s almost five months now and is getting more and more beautiful as the days go on. She reminds me so much of Nate, without the annoying parts.
My phone vibrates in my back pocket. I grab it out, still talking to Micaela. The number is strange.
Do you have it?
What? I click on the number but all it says is 446
I text back anyway because curiosity gets the best of me.
Have what? Who is this?
I wait. And then wait some more. After twenty minutes of pacing around my room, it dawns on me that they’re probably not going to text back. I toss my phone onto the couch and make my way back to the bed, picking Micaela up to put her down for a nap. Once she’s all tucked in, I grab Daemon’s book and open to the page I was up to. I flick through the pages I’ve already seen but find myself back to CAPITULUM I and II - the cabin. This time, I run my fingers over every detail, trying to find a clue. So Daemon has been here before, but why did he draw this? Why has he even created this book? Daemon never does anything without a reason. I have started feeling bad for not sharing this with Madison too, but the selfish side of me doesn’t want to just yet. Not picking up anything different with the drawings, I flip to the next part. CAPITULUM V. Hands clenching a jail cell, with one pole broken and bent. The ground is shaded to look like 3D. I bring the book closer to my face in an attempt to make out what it is that’s laying on the ground.
A short shaped stick connects to an oval-like ball. There are squares and circles colored into it. This is the first item I have come across that has color and so much detail. My stomach curls when I realize it’s a baby rattle. I slam the book closed and rush for the bathroom, pulling my hair back as everything I ate over the last twenty-four hours comes spewing out of my mouth. Swiping my lips with the back of my hand, I flush and then go to the sink, washing my hands. I know this. I know what happens. I know the duty of The Lost Boys, and of course I knew Daemon was the Princeps. That should bother me. I peer at myself in the mirror. My ivory skin has been invaded by a flush of pink spread over my cheeks. Cupping water in my hand, I scoop up some water and rinse out my mouth. Why doesn’t the fact that I know what Daemon has done impact the feelings I have toward him? If Nate had done something like that, it would bother me so much so that I’d probably accidentally drive his car off a cliff. With him inside. So why not with Daemon? I can see that there aren’t many more pages left, thank God, because I don’t know how much more I can take.
Making my way back into the sitting room, I check on a sleeping Micaela, my eyes finding its way back to Puer Natus.
Nope. Not today.
I pick it up and slide it under my bed, annoyed with my curiosity.
Lying on my bed, I count the lines on the ceiling until I slowly drift off to sleep again, tired from last night.
When I was twelve, I experienced my first crush. I think it was the first time that I ever really crushed on someone. The stomach clenching, heart
aching, palm sweating, need to have him. His name was Jordan Samuel. I thought he liked me too until he made an ass out of me in front of the whole school by playing a prank. “No, Tillie, ew, I don’t want to date you… leave me alone. Nerd.” I can still feel the burn on my cheeks and the knife turn in my gut. I quickly learned why they call it a crush. Because the feelings you develop for that person are heavy enough to fucking crush you. Love is something else entirely, and although I’m not sure I’ve found out exactly why I think it’s something else entirely, I think the reason why I know is sitting on my bed, playing with our daughter.
“What’s up?” he asks when he catches me staring. He woke us from our nap to have cuddles with her.
I shake my head, my eyes falling to Micaela. “Nothing. It’s just that I love seeing you with her.”
He doesn’t answer, so I swing my attention back to him. His go lazy, his lip kicking up in a grin. “Are you swooning?”
I freeze. “What? No…”
He licks his lip and chuckles, picking Micaela up and hugging her into his chest. “Mommy is swooning over Daddy,” he coos into Micaela’s head, but his eyes are still on mine. There’s something different about the way he’s staring at me this time. I almost see the Nate I fell for last year. He’s something made from witchcraft. Everything alluring and evil, his magic and charisma like a stubborn magnetism that ultimately brings you to your death.
“No, I’m not…” I shake my head, sucking in a copious amount of air.
I back up.
He counters my step and wraps one arm around my back, pulling me into him. “Admit it.” He grins. “You think I’m adorable.”
I roll my eyes. “I wouldn’t say ado—”
His lips gently touch mine, his fingers burrowing into my hair, caressing the back of my head. I part my lips a little and his tongue slips into my mouth. We’re interrupted by Micaela’s little hand coming up to my face.
We both laugh, pulling back and looking down at her. “She really is fucking perfect,” Nate says softly.
“I know,” I agree, running my index finger down her cheeks. “We did one thing right, at least.”
“Yeah.” He smiles and then gestures outside. “Tonight, Hector is organizing a poolside dinner. It’ll be all of us, Bishop’s cousin Spyder, and a few old generation Kings. I want you to come.”
My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Really? Why?”
“Because I want all of us there. Micaela is in this world now, too. It’s a part of her whether we like it or not. It’ll be safe, baby, you don’t have to worry about anything happening to her again. She’s with me now.”
I chew on my bottom lip. I know I trust Nate when it comes to that, and I somewhat trust Bishop, but as far as the rest go—that would be a solid no. I catch Nate smiling down at Micaela, the proud look on his face is all for her. I can’t take that away from him. We can talk more in-depth of future “dinners” after tonight, though, because I’m not interested in making this a reoccurring thing.
“Okay,” I whisper just as he’s placing her down onto the playmat.
“Yeah?” He smirks up at me.
I nod. “Sure. How bad could it be?”
After rushing around the room, packing Micaela’s bag, getting ready, choosing a dress, and then blowing out my hair, we are officially late. I tried to wear a black dress, but Nate said the women are to wear red and the men wear black. We dressed Micaela in a little red gown that puffed out around her legs, and then we were ready.
Nate drops down gears and zips onto the road. He watches his speedometer every two seconds though, making sure he isn’t driving too fast over the speed limit. Micaela is strapped in the backseat of his car. A few minutes later we pull into Bishop’s driveway and Nate reaches forward, handing me a small red velvet box. I run my fingers over it, turning to face him.
“What is it?”
He shrugs. “Open it and put it on.” Flipping open the glove compartment, he takes out a box around the same size, maybe a bit bigger. I open mine and my eyes land on a black lace masquerade mask. Only it’s not the usual masquerade mask where the lace is pretty with twirls. This one looks a little different. I tie it around the back of my head and flip the mirror down to take a look. I was right, it’s very idiosyncratic. Each strap of lace is apportioned specifically on a patterned line to reveal a skull. It’s beautiful, but a little frightening. I love it. Nate is tying his at the back of his head.
“Let me see yours.”
I can see the side of his cheek smirk. “If you show me yours?”
I roll my eyes, about to say how stupid he is when he turns his face full to mine and my breath catches in my throat. “Holy shit.”
Thick white—what looks like bone—is carved into a half skull on his face. There are three holes, two for his eyes and one for his nose. The top of his lip is where teeth are carved into it, with the fangs stabbing downward, pressing against his lower lip. You can still see the sharp edges of his angular jaw and his plump lower lip. It’s disturbingly sexy. That mask mixed with his Armani suit that is tailored to perfection, with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the bow tie hanging loosely around his collar. My ovaries may not survive this night. I need to calm down.
I lick my lips. “You look great.”
He rolls his eyes. “I look better than great, mea principessa, quit playin’.” He climbs out and I slip out after him.
“Seriously. What is it made of?”
He’s in the back, unhooking Micaela from her seat. When he comes back out, his eyes slam into mine. I can make out the curve in his cheek that he’s grinning at me.
“If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.” Then he shuts the door.
“Actually, I would,” I mumble under my breath. Nate tosses the keys to a valet who is standing near a long line of cars. I swear the keys fly in slow motion until my eyes come directly to the boy, who is watching me eagerly.
He’s young, maybe sixteen. Very good looking with boy-ish features. His shoulders slack submissively. He bends one leg and bows his head.
Nate snaps at him. “Don’t even start, bumboy. Just park the car.”
Confused, I look to Nate for answers, but he just shakes his head, hiking Micaela up farther into his chest. “Why did I get the impression that he was about to curtsy me or something?”
Nate rolls his eyes. “You’re a fucking Stuprum, Tillie. Get used to it.”
“Yeah,” I answer, chasing his steps. “But why would he curtsy me?”
Nate brushes me off. “Just leave it.”
I decide to leave it. For now. I can jump on that subject after the night is over.
Soft music is spilling out from the foyer and the door is opened slightly. I’ve been to Bishop’s parents’ house a few times, but it’s never looked like this before. There are twisted rope lights illuminating the front door and the foyer inside the house. I can hear the chatter of people mixing with the soft classical music playing. Nate takes my hand, pulling me farther inside the house. To the left of the foyer is a single twist staircase that’s all glass with clear railings, leading up to the second level.
“Come on.”
I clear my throat, my eyes catching the soft red lights that are melting against the walls in the main living area.
Before Nate can drag me in there, I tug on his hand. “Is this party going to be suitable for Micaela?”
He nods. “Yeah, for now. If not, Mom and Joseph are here.”
I chew on my lip and then follow him into the sitting room. There are a few people here, mainly men and a couple of older women. The fireplace is on and I can see now that where the back of the living room meets the foyer, there’s a man playing on a piano, dressed in a suit and a metal masquerade mask with a long nose.
“Ah, the prodigy son is here…” A voice pulls me out of my nosey thoughts and I take a second to quickly look over all who are here. The man who spoke is sitting in the main chair of the room with a cigar tucked between his fingers. He
’s in a suit and again, in a mask similar to Nate’s, only his is blood red. I know instantly that it’s Hector.
“The boys are outside, but come, I want you to meet a few people.”
Nate seems to tense beside me, his eyes watching the man sitting beside Hector. They don’t move, and I reach for his hand, but he doesn’t allow me to take it. Circling my finger against his palm, he lets out a slow exhale and I feel his fingers slowly stretch, and then intertwine with mine. My heart jolts in my chest and protectiveness seizes me. Right now isn’t the time for me to evaluate where the lioness instincts have come from, but they feel good. Powerful. It’s then that I realize the depth of my feelings for this impossibly frustrating, painfully sexy, asshole of a man. I’d jump in front of a bullet for him, I’d lay my life down for him, and it’s in this moment, that I realize I’m still in love with him. If I ever climbed out of that hole to begin with.
“Shall we go out and see the crew?” I try to coax Nate, what with my newfound senses, I’m feeling a little brave.
Nate grunts, and then pulls me out of the room, toward the kitchen where there is one glass wall that bows out and opens to the backyard and pool area. We see everyone instantly.
I take a seat beside Madison who is next to Bishop. On the other side of Bishop is Brantley, who is wearing a thick black mask that does look really really good on him.
Brantley snorts the final line of coke from the table at our appearance. “Something doesn’t feel right about tonight.”
“What do you mean?” I cut in, mainly because my daughter is here and I don’t want any trouble around her. Again, Nate and I have a lot to talk about when it comes to this world.
Brantley’s eyes go to Micaela. “She shouldn’t be here tonight.”