In Fury Lies Mischief

by Amo Jones

  My heart thunders in my chest.

  “Someone who wanted to hurt you.”

  I freeze. “Do I know this someone?”

  Killian laughs, shaking his head. “Not sure. But had you not left me unattended back at Mayhem, maybe I wouldn’t have had so much pent up anger, and then maybe, just maybe, I wouldn’t have made a fucking mess.” He looks down at his chest.

  “I don’t understand why someone would want to hurt me.” I think over Hope’s crazy call about me being in Kiznitch.

  Killian exhales, stepping forward and running his nose down the bridge of mine. “We’re still trying to figure it out, but they want you. Bad.”

  I suck in a deep breath. “So why did you kill him?”

  He holds my stare. “Because I want you more.”

  I bring my hand up to the side of his cheek, then run my thumb down his bottom lip. Leaning forward, I bring my lips to his.

  He groans, his arm hooking around my back, pulling me into him more. “I need to bury myself in you right now.”

  Morning light shines through the bedroom curtains as the sun begins to rise. Killian’s heavy arm is locked around me securely as I try to shuffle up from bed. I’m not a big hugger, especially since Killian is a walking, talking heater in his sleep.

  Someone knocks on my door. “Kill, get out here,” King’s voice bellows from the other side.

  Killian groans, rolling to his back. I flip over and rest my head on the palm of my hand, looking over “just woke” Killian.

  “It’s not fair you look cute when you wake up.”

  Killian smirks, licking his lips and shoving me backward onto my back while resting between my legs. He grinds into me. “I’m always this cute.”

  “Really?” I reach for my phone, snapping it to selfie mode. He bites down on my jaw as I snap the photo from the side. I study it closely. For the first time I see what everyone else sees when they look at us.

  The door swings open behind us and Killian growls, dropping his head onto my shoulder.

  “I hate to break up this fiasco, but Delila is waiting for us downstairs and she’s not in a good mood.”

  He bites the flesh on my neck and tugs backward before jackknifing up out of bed. “Fine, I’m coming.”

  Biting a cigarette into my mouth, I follow King down the long corridor, blazing it up between each step.

  “You and Sass?” King asks, smirking.

  “Are just fucking around.” I blow out a cloud of smoke.

  King snickers. “Yeah, until she gets hurt because you’ve decided you’re bored with the little doll and you want a new one.”

  I ignore his jab as we round the corner and enter the dining room.

  The Brothers all watch me carefully. “What the fuck is going on?” Keaton asks as we pull out our seats. “You’re awfully comfortable inside of her.”

  I run my hand through my hair, grinning. “You would be too.”

  Kyrin kicks me under the table. “You two either fuck or fight.”

  I flip him off.

  King doesn’t answer, so he leans back in his chair, watching me carefully. “You know after the ritual tonight, we’re heading back home.”

  “Yeah,” I answer, spreading my legs wide.

  “So you know you both need to figure that shit out before we go back on the road. Are you fighting or fucking, because you can’t be both?”

  I snort. “It worked well with you and Perse, and we don’t fight. Sass isn’t into the dramatics of shit.”

  He glares at me. “Perse has fire inside of her, and we never fought or pushed each other around during a show.”

  “Yeah, because she just rolled over and took your shit for the most part. You don’t know Saskia. Girl is fucking wild.”

  “Do you?” King asks, watching me carefully.

  “Do I what? Know her?” I lean my elbows on my knees. “I know her enough.”

  “Oh good, you’re all here.” Delila takes a seat opposite me, pulling her packet of smokes out and tossing them onto the table. She’s getting worse and worse as each day passes. As if something is eating her from the inside out.

  “What’s up?”

  Delila places a smoke between her lips and lights the end. “Where’s your father’s whiskey?”

  I look around aimlessly before coming back to her. “Am I going to need it?”

  Delila runs her finger over her nose, her eyes squeezing shut briefly as if she’s in pain. “You will. Unfortunately, more than you did last time.”

  “Spit it out.” I lean back in my chair, annoyed already.

  “It’s Saskia.”

  “What about her?” I ask, eyebrows raised. “Come on, you gotta tell me something, because right now the girl is walking around like a fucking ghost, haunting me with her presence. Can’t keep my fucking dick off her.”

  Keaton snickers.

  Delila flicks the ash off her smoke. “If I tell you this, Killian, you must contain your wrath. You must promise me that you will also stay away from her, but tread carefully.”

  Sometimes the most vicious ghosts that haunt you are those in your memories.

  Twenty hours. That’s how long Val has been hanging around me since Killian left cold turkey this morning. She has not let go. I think of Val as a Great White Shark. Once she has a taste of your blood, she doesn’t let go.

  “So, I think you should wear this.” Val holds up a lacy red bra. “Underneath your robe.”

  The robe steals my focus again. The Cornelii robe. Something deep inside of me twists and turns. It doesn’t feel right wearing it, and I can’t pinpoint why I feel that way.

  “Just the bra?” I ask, my eyebrows turning in. “That’s—”

  “—Kiznitch,” Val chuckles just as there’s a knock on the door.

  Delila opens it up, a distant look on her face. She hands me a robe. “You will be wearing this one tonight, Saskia. I’m sorry for the confusion.” I take it from her, eyeing it skeptically.

  Delila clears her throat as I open it up wide.

  I pause.

  The back has the words Dragavei with a large angry dragon wrapped around a red gemstone. I recognize the emblem instantly as the very same necklace that Hope had me swear to protect.

  “Wow,” I breathe out. “That’s intense.” I don’t want to show my cards by letting them know that I have the necklace, but there’s a reason as to why she wants me to wear this. “What does it mean?”

  Delila’s eyes come to mine as she searches her pockets. Finally, she pulls out her pack of smokes and bangs it onto the palm of her hand. “Really hoped I wouldn’t be the one to have to tell you this, but here we go.” She sucks in smoke and then turns to Val. “Leave.”

  Val shifts from one foot to the other before she darts out the door. As soon as it’s closed, Delila tosses the pack of smokes at me.

  I take one out, bringing it to my lips. Grabbing my Zippo that’s in the bedside drawer, I flick it open and blaze the tip. Inhaling, I sigh when I exhale the nicotine.

  “First thing I’m going to tell you is that I can only tell you what I know, do you understand that?”

  I lean over and flick my ash into an empty wine glass. “Yes.”

  Delila paces back and forth in front of me. “Your last name isn’t Royal.”

  I open my mouth to talk.

  She cuts me a glare.

  I snap my mouth closed.

  She continues. “It is Dragavei. Saskia Dragavei. That is your family robe.”

  When I know that she’s finished talking, I stand from the bed and make my way to the doors, pulling them open to allow some fresh air in. “Why do I not know this? My memories haven’t been touched. I remember everything there is to know about my childhood, so why have I never heard that name before?”

  Delila sighs, flicking her smoke butt over the patio. “You must wear that tonight during your official initiation.” She ignores my question. “Perse will be going through with you, as well as Callan and Kenan. We have th
e Four Fathers who have just arrived as well as the Four Wicked Witches.” Delila snickers, and I know for a fact that that’s not what they’re called. Under different circumstances, I might have found her jab funny. She comes closer to me, her eyes searching mine. “Good god, child. I really wish that I could help you.”

  Confusion floats around me like a shield, blocking everything out. I don’t remember Delila leaving my room until I’m sitting still on my bed with the cigarette now burning through the butt.

  I drop it into the glass and pick up my phone, scrolling through my contact list until I find Hope.

  I press dial.

  If Delila can’t give me anything else, I know Hope will.

  After three failed attempts of trying to reach her, I make my way into the bathroom and start getting ready for tonight.

  “Sass!” Perse hooks her arm in mine as she leads me down the dirt path through the large shrubs of the forest. “You’re late.”

  “I am?” I ask, surprised. “I thought we didn’t have to be here until midnight!”

  Perse looks around us until she suddenly stops, her hands coming to my face. “I have to talk to you later. After we’ve been initiated. Okay? Don’t go far.”

  “Why not just tell me now?” I whisper-yell.

  Perse shakes her head. “I can’t. Too many…” She waves her hands in the air and I look around us.

  “We’re in the middle of a path. No one is here. They’re all there.” I point to the end of the tunnel where branches split open and I see flames dancing through the dark sky. People are laughing, music playing, people chatting.

  She takes my hand. “You’ve got a lot to learn.”

  I could’ve said the same about her. Shouldn’t it be me who is saying that to her since she’s the one that didn’t remember her childhood for so long.

  “You look hot, by the way.” Perse leans into me. “The red bra looks good under the robe.”

  On cue, I notice she’s wearing the same, only white. “White?” I ask, cocking an eyebrow.

  “Long story,” she mumbles. “Okay, come on. Have you decided where you’re getting your tattoo?”

  I shake my head. “No.” Once we reach the end of the path, I grab her hand until she spins around to face me. “Have you seen Killian?” I get that we’re not together, but this is the longest he has gone without either annoying me or fucking me.

  Perse winces, the lines around her eyes sharpening. “I—”

  “Baby girl.” Kenan pulls me under his arm. “Let’s get this over with so we can get you out of here.”

  I search Kenan’s expression, his dark irises peering back at mine. He looks good. With dark eyeliner smudged around his eyes and wearing nothing but his robe over his jeans. “Why?”

  “There you are…” King grabs Perse from around the waist, but she digs her heels into the grass.

  “No!” Her hands fly out to his chest. Shit. I wonder what King did to deserve her wrath. It’s not like Perse to fly off over anything. “You! You didn’t even say anything!”

  King’s face softens when he looks at her but hardens when he comes to me. “Because it’s not my place.”

  Perse storms off, heading straight for Keaton who is sitting on one of the many stone seats that surround one massive bonfire.

  King stares at me blankly before turning around to chase her.

  “What was that about?” I ask Kenan. King has never been outwardly cold toward me before.

  He sighs. “I’ll come out and tell you right now. Callan and Killian were together all day today. I’m guessing that’s what Perse is pissed about.”

  I swallow the goblet of fire that threatens to set fire to every single organ in my body. “We’re not together. I don’t know why everyone tiptoes around us.”

  Kenan directs me toward the small Tiki theme bar behind the fire. “Maybe because the way he looks at you makes people think that you are.” My throat tightens again as Kenan orders us a couple of drinks. “The man is feral with you.”

  The barman is easy to pick out. His chest is bare, his abs on display. He tenses as his eyes meet mine.

  “Thanks.” I take the drink from him and ignore the zap that passes as our fingers touch. When we’re walking away, I crank my head over my shoulder to have one last look at him. His eyes are bright blue, his facial structure in perfect symmetrical balance. His blonde hair is floppy and rugged, and the eyeliner beneath his eyes only adds to his obvious good looks. His face remains passive.

  “Did you hear me?” Kenan asks, snapping me out of the trance.

  “What?” I ask, bringing my glass up to my mouth and tilting my head back.

  “We’re all flying back tomorrow and continuing on the road back home.”

  “Oh.” I smile. “Yeah, I know.” I’m lost in thoughts of Killian and Callan. I’m not going to lie. Hearing that he’s once again jumping onto her does make me feel a certain way. Just this morning, he was in my bed. Then King called him and I didn’t see him after that.

  “Can I have everyone’s attention!” Kaius, King’s father, calls out from the front of the fire. It’s the first time I take a real look at the area. A large stone plank is in front of the fire, laying over the top of two thick boulders. There’s a man standing beside it, holding a tattoo gun with his hands crossed in front of him. He’s wearing a dark hooded robe like the rest of us, only displaying the edges of his sharp jaw. A jaw that I could spot miles away.

  I lean into Kenan. “Killian does the tattooing?”

  Kenan takes a sip of his drink. “The Corneliis do, yeah. Usually it’s Kallisto that does it though, not sure why Kill is there.”

  I gulp, swallowing my entire drink. I could probably guess why. Just another way for him to inflict pain on me.

  Kaius continues. He’s dressed exactly like us, only wearing a mask carved from bone with a long, pointed nose. He gestures to the front of him. “Kournikova, Briele, Nex, and—” His eyes come to mine. I can’t see anything behind the mask but his eyes. His eyes I can feel drilling holes into me. The atmosphere turns somewhat hostile for a brief second. “Dragavei.”

  I exhale slowly and follow Kenan to where Callan and Perse are standing.

  I had witnessed a ritual once when I was a child. I don’t know whose it was, but I remember the intensity of it all. Being in the firing line, though, sends chills over my spine.

  Perse’s hand comes to mine and she gives me a tight squeeze. I relax slightly at the gesture, watching as each of them lay on the plank and receive their star. Callan got hers on her ass cheek, no surprise. I watched as they all moved their robe around the placement of where they got their tattoo. Perse’s was below her ear, Kenan on the back of his neck.

  “Dragavei.” Kaius gestures to the plank. My fingers twitch around the ties at the front of my robe.

  Squaring my shoulders in challenge, I flick off the ties and the robe drops into a pool at my feet, Killian’s jaw tenses. I step over the material with my red-soled heels and slowly lift myself onto the plank.

  There was whispering as I leaned over and lay flat on my stomach. Scooping my hair over my other shoulder, I peered up at Killian.

  “You choose.”

  Killian is the Trickster. He’s used to girls dropping to his feet and worshiping the ground that he walks on, but that was before and after me. I will never be that girl for him, and if he wants to taunt me with Callan, then I’ll taunt him with my greatest weapon—my body.

  He growls under his breath, leaning down and pressing the tip of the needle against the side of my upper ribs. I close my eyes as the tip pierces my skin. Tension releases with every stab, my eyes slightly rolling to the back of my head. Holy shit. I chew on my lip and exhale. With every drag of the needle, I release even more tension. I know why people love getting tattoos now. It’s therapeutic.

  When the buzzing stops, my eyes open to see Killian so close to my face I almost flinch. My cheeks heat. “Are you done?”

  He seems to ponder over my
question, his jaw tense. “Not even close.” I didn’t miss the double meaning.

  Kaius looks over Killian’s shoulder. “We—” Kaius starts, only Killian interrupts him by turning the gun on again.

  He leans forward and continues, only this time the pain is higher, dragging down where my bra strap is.

  I tense.

  I don’t want to make a scene, so I endure it.

  Finally, he tosses the gun down to the ground in a crash and stalks off to the bar.

  Kaius removes his mask and tilts his head to study my tattoo. His eyes fly up to Killian, his head shaking.

  Kyrin walks up to the plank next as I’m climbing off and I watch as his tilts too. He slowly grins. “That cheeky motherfucker.”

  “What?” I snap, turning my head over my shoulder. I can see the end of words that vertically go up my shoulder but not what it says. When Kyrin disappears, Kenan helps me off the plank and chuckles.

  “Well, damn, Gina.” He hands me my robe and I throw it over my shoulder. “You really gotta stop testing the boy. Dropping your robe like a damn sex kitten. You know that every time you test him, he throws it back in your face.”

  “What’d he do?” I grind out, taking the two shots off Kenan and shooting them back.

  Kenan pulls out his phone, snapping a photo of my back and laughing, handing it to me. Property of Trickster. Was tattooed in cursive text above my Kiznitch star.

  Inhale. Exhale. Killian is in the corner, where Callan is hanging off his lap and Maya on his other side.

  “Are you going to go yell and throw shit at him?” Kenan asks just as Perse comes up behind us. “Because if I get to pick what you throw, I’d say fire would be good.”

  She hands us both a shot with fire flicking inside of it.

  I remain fixed on Killian until he brings his cold eyes to mine. I blow out the flame and wait a few seconds for it to cool, before shooting the liquid back. “Nope. That’s what he wants.”

  Perse shakes her head. “That’s what I was going to talk to you about. I expected more from Maya, but Callan?”

  I shrug, sighing as the alcohol warms my blood. “I didn’t expect any better from any of them honestly.”