Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 150546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 753(@200wpm)___ 602(@250wpm)___ 502(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 150546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 753(@200wpm)___ 602(@250wpm)___ 502(@300wpm)
“It’s not so much Priest than it is War…” I roll my eyes and relax into the chair. “He’s got this weird complex about us being around because of River.”
Dad raises a brow.
“What?” I scowl. He’s always doing this. Open sentences and cryptic comments. I don’t know how Mom tolerates it.
“You think that’s why War is the way he is?”
Dad pushes off the table and saunters his way to the front.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask as he continues to pour a finger of whiskey into an empty glass.
He brings it to his lips, keeping his eyes on mine. “It means the apple doesn’t fall far from the fucking tree.” He shoots his drink back and I watch as the amber liquid disappears down his throat. Before I can ask him once again to explain, the door opens and the other fathers pile in. Nate takes the spot to Dad’s right, Brantley opposite, and before I say anything more, someone else walks in.
Uncle Eli.
My smile widens and I shoot up from my chair, flying across the room.
He catches me with a hug. “Hey, princess,” he whispers into my hair, kissing my head.
“You never come around as much anymore!” I scold, and I fight with myself to not jut out my lip.
His arms tighten around me. “I know. You know you can always come to Spain—” He pauses a moment. “—shit.”
“I get it.” I step back from him, still giddy. “You guys have all branched out and are doing God’s work. I haven’t seen Lilith or Luna for so long!”
He chuckles deeply, directing me back to my chair and taking the one beside me. Uncle Eli was the fun one. For years, he’d play games with me, take me out with Luna when we were little.
“Okay, hold up!” Nate calls out, his hands raised. More people are coming through the door, but I already know who it will be. “Why don’t I get a hug like that? The fuck! I thought I was the favorite uncle?”
“You still are.” I roll my eyes with a smile, winking at Eli and Brantley. “So. Lilith and Luna? How are they?” I ask, lowering down onto the chair. Luna is Eli’s daughter that he had with one of the baddest chicks I know, aside from my mother and Tills. She is wild. Not wild like Aunty Tate, who took me to pierce my nipples when I was sixteen, but still wild. Eli, from one of the Founding Families, is also in a throuple with Kyrin and Lilith, who are part of an adult-style circus called Midnight Mayhem.
I hadn’t seen Luna since we were little. When they all separated and decided Midnight Mayhem would no longer be a traveling circus, but homebound, all of them spread throughout the world to go international. Eli, Kyrin, and Lilith chose L’embruix, a village snuggled in the valleys of Spain. I’d seen photos and it looked haunting, yet somewhat romantic.
“They’re good. Luna—” Eli pauses and turns to face Bishop. A look passes between the two of them and if I didn’t know better, I would have missed whatever it was.
But I did. Enough to know that there’s something going on.
A hard thigh brushes against mine and my breath catches. I don’t have to look to know who it is. I don’t know why it has started to bother me more than usual. War and I were the closest out of us all through our childhood, to the point where we would finish each other’s sentences.
I know where it all turned around and went to shit, and it had nothing to do with War’s taste in girls. Girls who are nothing like me. Not that he has actually kept any around long enough for me to compare.
“It’s time to start implementing plans that have been years in the making. As you all know, we have been working to make things more accommodating for the future Swans.” I roll my eyes at the name. How fucked up was Pop and the generations before him to have not just pushed the girls who were born into the EKC away, but to have them, well… killed. Mom tried to explain it more than once. I just wasn’t into reliving what she had.
“So, it’s done?” Priest holds Dad’s stare, and minutes pass over the table. There’s no debate. If you’re smart, you wouldn’t sit at this table to fight.
Dad leans back in his chair, a cigar rolling between his finger and thumb.
A dark smile plays across his lips. “Yes. So play nice. You know your sister is a good shot.”
Forgiveness wasn’t a currency I’d ever spend. If you crossed me, I’d simply make you pay.
Church bells rang in the distance as I shaded my eyes from the sun. The familiar sculpt of the building peeked out through the green trees and bushes.