In Fury Lies Mischief

by Amo Jones

  Delila holds her stare. “We had our reasons.”

  Maya rolls her eyes and stands, making her way out of the practice tent that’s set up in the middle of the oval field.

  “As I was saying,” Delila adds, her attention coming to me briefly before flying around the room. “Two weeks. We need to get paperwork in order and marketing out before we venture off but at the same time, we have days lost so we need to get back on. I would like all of you to get back into training. The time in Kiznitch and travel is time lost. Time we cannot afford to lose. So, from today onwards, all of you are to train at least once a day and up your calorie count to counter the calories burned, because I also want everyone running in the morning during a fasting window. That will help with your agility, stamina, and overall fitness.”

  She takes a small pause—when I say small, I mean it was small enough for me to use every single swear word against her because fucking running on a fast? No thanks.

  “You are to train every single one of your acts once a day. No choosing whatever you like and doing the next one the day after—do them all.”

  I groan, tilting my head back so my hair trails down the back of the chair.

  “Saskia, that includes you. I know it’s a lot to ask because of how many you have, but you’ll thank me later.”

  Bet I won’t.

  I nod, hearing her loud and clear. I actually would love to have my mind taken off the fact that Killian is ignoring me and acting as if I didn’t exist, I’m somehow a billionaire, and I have some secret family last name.

  Everyone starts to pile out, but I stay. Kenan squeezes my hand. “What’s wrong?” He tucks me under his arm and presses his lips to my head. “Two weeks then we’re on the road and the silence will turn into the crowds cheering.”

  I chuckle, shuffling down a little while unzipping my hoodie, exposing my sports bra. “I’m fine, Ken.”

  I stand, tossing my hoodie onto one of the chairs in the front of the ring. I know that Kenan is trying to help. I get it. I would do the same if I knew someone had openly hurt him in such a way that Killian had me, but I can’t dwell on it any more than I already have.

  Once everyone has left, I flick through my phone and push play on a random song in my library. Something easy that I can warm up with. I want to practice all day today so that I don’t have to all day tomorrow. The song plays and I move around, stretching out my legs and bending into child’s pose.

  “Want a buddy?” Perse asks. “Rose was supposed to be with me today, but she has the flu.”

  Rose is one of the other girls who came in with Perse in the same manner. They’re best friends because of it and remind me of the kind of friendship that every girl should have. Loyalty, respect and love. That’s all a friendship needs to survive, but when one is broken, the other two become heavy and it won’t be long before they break too and then, you have no friendship. Rose and Perse are solid in all three.

  “She okay?” I ask, gesturing out to the stage. I flick my hair over and pile it all onto the top of my head into a high pony. “I noticed she didn’t look well today.”

  “She’ll be fine.” Perse tosses her slippers onto the ground in front of us. “I think it’s a mixture of jet lag too.”

  “I get that,” I grumble, stretching out my legs, reaching for my toes.

  “I was going to ask you something, but I wanted to check with you before we go on the road.”

  I bring my eyes up to hers. She has my attention.

  She takes a seat beside me and copies my stretch. “Do you want me to find somewhere new for Callan. I love my group, but I can’t have tension between any of you because it will show during the performance, and she’s in the wrong by taunting you with Killian.”

  I never liked Callan. She wasn’t someone who I could picture being friends with—even when I first met her on the flight to New Orleans when they first picked us up. Part of me thought she resented me because I wasn’t on the boat with her, and another part of me just thought maybe she was someone that I just didn’t vibe with. I let it go. I never let opinions of me reach my soul.

  Shaking my head, I answer, “No, I’ll be fine. Her and Killian are fine with each other.”

  Perse doesn’t answer and I bring my eyes to her. She offers a small smile. “I’m not worried about you, Saskia. It’s her that I don’t trust. I know girls like her, and beside the fact that Val and I are fine now, I don’t think Callan shares the same morality that Val had beneath her ugly.”

  “You’re right,” I agree, standing back to my feet. “You can make a decision because it’s your group, but just know that for me, I’m not bothered.”

  After warming up, we slip into an easy routine, dancing between each other and laughing. I genuinely enjoy Perse as a person. She’s easy to be around, so before we know it, we’ve been dancing for two hours.

  “I need to practice on my fire bending.” I take a long swig of water, sweat dripping down my chest.

  “Your act is by far my favorite out of all.” Perse chuckles, swiping her face with a towel.

  “It’s not easy but it’s not hard.” I start walking toward the back room to find all of my equipment. A few people are training now too, with the Six Demons and Angels. I’m sliding the box out with all of my things when I hear the bikes start up at the back.

  I freeze. Counting to ten, I force my panic to chill out. We have to share this same floor, so I need to get used to it.

  Once the box is at the front of the center ring—a safe distance away from the wheels of death—I grab my phone out of my hoodie pocket and take my AirPods out with them, connecting to Bluetooth. I plug in the pods, shuffling through the song list and continue with my training until the sun is setting in the night. It isn’t until the soft neon lights are blaring from above me that I take out my pods and turn around to see if they’re ready for me to train in the wheel.

  But they’re all gone.

  Guess I get to skip out on one of my routines tonight.

  I’ve just scrubbed up in the shower when a text comes through.

  Perse: Come over to King’s. We’re having drinks and a cookout tonight.

  Flicking back a text to Perse. I’ll be there in 30.

  Val bursts through my door just as I’m getting ready.

  “We have to look hot.” She hurries through my closet. “Have to.”

  “Val?” I ask, squeezing my towel. “What are you doing here?”

  She’s shuffling through my clothes in my suitcases when she finally stands to face me. “We have to make Maya and Killian feel pain.”

  I laugh, making my way to my lingerie suitcase. So many damn suitcases.

  “This is a sweet house. I’ve always loved it.”

  There’s an awkward pause, but I shove it aside.

  I find a black and white lace set. “Yeah, I like it. It’s something I would’ve built myself.”

  Turning to face Val I watch as she pulls out a black sequin dress that only barely covers my ass, let alone hers. She’s so much taller than me. I ask the question I’ve been wanting to ask for a while. “Did you know who it was that lived here before?” I don’t remember Val as a kid, but that’s no surprise. We ran in completely different circles. No one knew me.

  Val shrugs. “The last people that were in here left when I joined Midnight Mayhem at thirteen. They were the oldest Dragavei to live. Must have been your great grandparents.”

  It’s strange, because my mother and father lived a very modest life within the community. Actually, modest is probably being generous.

  “It’s just weird,” I whisper, making my way to where she’s slipping into my dress. Sure enough, it barely covers her upper thigh.

  “How so?” she calls out from the bathroom.

  “Well, I was a Royal, not a Dragavei. Delila isn’t telling me much and I don’t really know who to ask.”

  My fingers flex over a white crop top that dips deep into my cleavage and straps around me like a bra. I pair it with
black wide leg pants that are tight around my waist but loose around my legs.

  “You’re wearing the genie pants? Good choice with that crop,” Val says, coming back to rummage through my shoes. “And if you want to ask anything, I’d go to Jessie, aka Lucifer. He’s almost forty-years-old and knows about as much as Delila’s old ass.”

  “Jessie’s forty?” I ask, shocked. He doesn’t look it. He looks old, but I originally pegged him as early to mid-thirties.

  “Yeah.” Val smirks. “Wears it well, huh?”

  “He does,” I agree, finding the black heels I want to pair with my outfit. “I’ll do my makeup and then we can leave. Can you go downstairs and find us some liquid courage?”

  Val flashes me a wide grin. “Oh, I’d be honored.” She flicks her long blonde hair over her shoulder, disappearing out of my room like a tornado of destruction. I’ve come to warm up a lot to Val. I’ve found her easy to talk to, and aside from Ken, she’s always there for me. I know Perse would be too, but I also know that she’s King’s lady, which means I can’t talk to her about everything because there’s a high chance that she will go back and tell King.

  I work on my makeup, turning some music onto my portable speaker. “Flawless” by Beyoncé and Nicki comes on as I’m flicking my top liner. I start dancing and running the deep burgundy lipstick over my lips, careful with the precision of the lines.

  Val comes into the bathroom, slapping my ass and handing me a drink of—“What’s this?” I ask, taking a small sip. Instantly I recoil, my face scrunching up in disgust. “Oh, it burns!” I stick my tongue out dramatically, waving the heat off.

  “It’s a Long Island Iced Tea…” she finishes off. “With a little bit of Fire Ball.”

  “God! Are you trying to kill me?” I scold her.

  Her face falls. “No. You’re the only real friend that I have here.”

  I pause, placing the glass of poison on the bathroom bench. “You have so many friends, Val.”

  She shakes her head, her eyes coming up to meet mine. “I don’t really. The only true ones I had was Maya and Mischa. I fucked Maya, and Mischa took her side, so… I have you.”

  I sigh, picking up my glass. “Well, cheers to us!” We clink our glasses together. “And for the record, friends don’t validate who you are as a person. Some of the best people I know are the ones who have fewer friends.”

  Val smiles at me. “You’re so different, Sass. I mean, your personality is a complete contrast to your appearance.” She turns and heads out of the bathroom.

  “Did you just say that I looked like a bitch?” I yell out over the music.

  “I did!” she shouts back.

  I laugh, shaking my head, and continue with my makeup. I decide to leave my hair in its natural state—long waves that drop to my tailbone. My father was darker than my mom, and had the best full head of hair, so I’ve always claimed I got my long, thick hair from his side, since he rocked the shit out of his curls.

  Heading back into the room, Val whistles. “Now, if I hadn’t ruined one friendship by sleeping with her, I’d definitely hit on you.”

  I shove her playfully. “I’m straight—you dick.”

  She laughs. “Mmhmm, so was I until I wasn’t.”

  I roll my eyes.

  She pulls out her phone and comes in close. “Let’s take some photos, drink these, and go cause some havoc.” It was like she was reading my mind.

  We took a ton of selfies, a whole lot of mirror selfies, and single shots taken on the balcony that leads off the small lounge upstairs.

  They were amazing photos.

  More than amazing.

  I decide to upload one of the photos Val took of me on the balcony, looking candidly out to the side, posting it on my Instagram feed, and chose one of our selfies to publish on my story. I start heading back downstairs, checking on my Instagram profile while I’m here.

  I falter in my steps. 146K Followers.

  “How the hell did my followers on Instagram jump up so high?” I ask Val as I enter the kitchen.

  She shrugs. “Welcome to Midnight Mayhem. Also, when Killian posted that photo of you, even though he didn’t tag you, his mob of loyal followers would have stalked his following and put two and two together.”

  My eyes shoot to hers. “What photo!” I quickly click on his profile, finding the photo she’s talking about. “Oh my god.” It was the photo he snapped in Mayhem. The very one of me flipping off the camera and wearing his bandana. He captioned it Tell her she’s pretty or I’ll kill you.

  “Girl, you had his rag on. That isn’t fucking light, and also, you’re the first girl he has ever posted on the gram. People are losing their minds over it.”

  I slam my phone onto the counter, heading for the pantry to find something else to drink. Something that won’t kill me, but will maybe ease the pain a little.

  “Are we ready, Little Dragon?” Val laughs. Her phone is pointed on me.

  “Are you recording?” I narrow my eyes at the lens.

  “Of course I am! You look hot as fuck and if Killian is going to ignore you, I’ll make sure my two point three million followers don’t!”

  I freeze, gaping at her with my eyes wide. I can’t believe she just said that.

  She must flip her camera to selfie mode because now she’s talking into her phone. “Was that her orgasm face, Killian Cornelii? I’m impressed.”

  “Val!” I yell at her. Now the whole damn world will know if they didn’t already.

  She laughs, pushing her phone into the front of her bra. “Okay, okay, no more torment. For now.”

  “Wait!” I start walking toward the garage, where I remember seeing a car inside through the glass doors. I push open the door and gasp.

  Val comes up behind me. “An RT Charger?” She whistles. “I’m impressed. I don’t remember seeing this driving around.” The car is licked in gloss black, with black rims and tints. There’s a silver motor looking thing that’s sticking out of the hood. It looks lethal.

  Val grabs the keys that are hanging on a hook, tossing them at me. “Found our ride!”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t drive because of that drink? And King’s is only like a twenty-minute walk up the road?”

  “The dirt road. We can’t walk on a dirt road in these heels.” She jogs to the passenger side and slips inside. “Come on.”

  “Fine!” I call out, squeezing the keys in my hand. She’s right about the heels. I sink into the thick leather seat and push the key in, twisting it to start. The loud rumble vibrates beneath my seat and Val laughs hysterically.

  “I’ve always loved older cars. God. This is so hot. Your grandparents were bad asses.”

  Everything seems too new, too updated. Where are my grandparents anyway?

  I flip down the visor and push the button to open the garage door.

  “Saskia the bad bitch dragon!” Val chuckles, and I turn to face her, seeing her phone facing me again.

  Wriggling my eyebrows, I blow her phone a kiss. “I forgot my smokes!”

  Val brushes me off, running inside to grab them and coming back. She tosses them onto my lap. “Didn’t take you for a smoker.”

  “I’m not usually.” I put the car in drive and tap the accelerator. “I use them as a coping mechanism and when I’m drinking.”

  “Some would say that’s not healthy,” she jokes, flicking off the bottle of vodka.

  We drive to King’s and I park out front. “Hey!” I reach for Val before she slides out of the car. “You didn’t tell me what was going on with you and Maya?”

  Val rolls her eyes so hard I almost think they went to the back of her head. “She’s—well, she says that she was only having fun. That we’re only having fun.”

  My face falls along with my shoulders. Val has a rough personality, and she’s not easy to be friends with, but I’ve come to learn that when she truly considers you a friend, her roughness softens. “Have you guys hooked up a lot?”

  Val shakes her head, her str
aight platinum blonde hair falling over her shoulders. “God no. I was straight—completely straight until her. She’s the bisexual one. She’s had girlfriends before, two, to be exact, but never any boyfriends. We all knew it was because she was holding a torch for Kill.”

  I nod, urging her to continue. I’m not worried about Maya, or even Callan. The truth is that if I walked into that house tonight and sat on Killian’s lap, I doubt he’d push me off. I pause my thought process. Maybe I shouldn’t have driven. It’s obvious that he’s livid about something.

  “Anyway, so being with her, she was my first girl, and it felt right with her, you know?”

  I didn’t. Not really. So maybe I did…

  “Sure, and you told her how you felt?”

  Val took a long swig from the vodka bottle she’s holding between her fingers. “Sure did, and she said ‘it was just fun, Val. Nothing serious.’”

  “Bitch,” I mutter under my breath. “I don’t know her very well, but Perse loves her, you do, and Killian does. I don’t see it. Not right now.” It’s not that she’s strange—because she is. I love diversity in characters and prefer them over normality, but it’s how she silently sits there.

  Judging.

  Watching.

  Or maybe it’s just me she’s like that with.

  “You’ll get along with her. A lot. Once this whole Killian thing blows over.”

  A bang on my window jolts us out of our small chat. Turning, I see Keaton peering in with his arm pressed against my window. I wind it down.

  “Killian’s drinking.” His dark eyes press against mine.

  “So?” I answer, grabbing my keys and phone. I slip out of the car and Keaton’s tattooed hand wraps around my arm.

  He pulls me into his chest until I feel his warm breath falling over my lips. “Fix it, since it was the two of you who set him off.”

  I shrug out of his grasp. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Keaton growls as I walk away. “The fucking Instagram photos and videos. Stop acting dense.” Shit. Shit. Shit.

  I ignore Keaton, passing Kyrin who is leaning against the front door, a bottle of Scotch between his fingers. He’s wearing jeans, a black T and leather jacket. Kyrin is classically pretty. He’s a hefty combination of handsomeness and viciousness.