Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84375 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84375 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Nate—Tell Brantley you’re coming with him tonight.
My fingers hover over the keys as I think on what to reply with.
Me—Where to?
Nate—A meet. And bring that fucking book.
Me—Have a new girl that needs rescuing?
Nate—Yeah.
Me—Who?
Nate—You.
I stand there, reading the word over and over again until my eyes close and it flashes behind my shut lids in neon white pulses. You.
I grab the rest of my shit and make my way downstairs, back to my room. I pass Daemon’s room and see him lying on his back on top of the mattress.
I sigh, my heart resting to a light strum.
Pushing his door open, I knock on it gently. His face tilts to me.
“Hi.” I enter, leaving the door open.
“Princessa,” he whispers, his eyes closing and opening. “Are you—okay?”
I nod, pursing my lips together. “Why? Daemon, why didn’t you tell me?” I take a seat on the mattress, tucking my hands under my thighs.
He exhales. “That’s not the important part.” His English is getting better.
“What do you mean? You knew me, Daemon. I had a crush on you.”
He nods, his smile tightening. “As did I.”
I lick my lips. “I haven’t seen you in a long time.”
He inches up from the mattress, his hand resting on my cheek. “That’s a good thing, Princessa. Very good.” His hand comes to my chest and I wince. “Heal.”
I place a kiss on his head and leave him to rest. He rests a lot. I hope he’s okay.
I have a shower once I’m back in my room and scrub up in triple time, running the soap suds over my body until they form foam. I wanted to ask him so many questions, but he seemed tired. It feels wrong to push him, considering all he’s been through.
Shoving on some light skinny jeans and a Ramones shirt, I flick my hair down my back, toss on my leather jacket, and head upstairs to find Brantley.
He’s waiting for me in the lobby, wearing a hoodie, dark jeans and a shit-eating grin.
“Why are you smiling like that and why do I get the feeling that I’m not going to like the reason?”
He chuckles. “Come on. You need to get ready for the meet.” I let him take my hand as he leads me down the dark hallway, passing door after door. I need to explore this house one day. Not today, but one day. We reach the end to a second dining area, a more private one. A crystal chandelier hangs delicately from the ceiling and there’s a large rectangle table with dark red chairs surrounding it.
“Hello, dear,” Scarlet says, pulling out boxes of what I recognize as makeup.
“Hi!” I haven’t seen her or Elena in a while, and a part of me feels guilty that I haven’t made the time to see Elena. I mentally mark it in my brain to visit her.
Scarlet has always been beautiful, and you can really see the striking resemblance between her and Bishop. Does she know about Abel? Probably not. Does she know about Hector? Honestly, I’d like to say no, but I’m not naïve. I see the cracks in these people where others would see silk.
“What’s going on?” I look between her and Brantley.
Brantley takes a seat. “You need to get painted to come with us, Princessa…”
“The meet? I wasn’t painted last time…”
Scarlet pauses, her hand in the air as she continues to dip her brushes into the SFX makeup.
“That’s because you weren’t technically supposed to be there.” Brantley’s tone is smooth.
“No woman is supposed to be there.” Scarlet raises an eyebrow at me. “But you’re different.”
So I’ve heard.
I take a seat and watch as she brushes strokes of black and white over Brantley’s face.
“What’s the meaning behind that?” I ask, gesturing to the face paint. “I know people do it for Halloween, but I never understood why The Kings do it?”
Scarlet continues on Brantley’s face. “Well, the reason why The Kings have always done it is a lot simpler than why people use it during Halloween, or even why they celebrate it for All Saints Day. We use it as a way to express to our men that we all die.” Scarlet’s eyes come to me. “The wives of The Kings learn to apply this to their husband during meets. It’s our way of telling them that they’re not immortal. Their flesh is still human, and their black hearts still beat.”
Interesting, I think to myself. “So now I’m wearing it?”
Scarlet chuckles. “Yes, but yours will be the Stuprum design.”
Now I’m intrigued. Brantley continues getting his done and when he turns to face me, I smirk. “You look good, Bran Bran…”
He flips me off.
I take a seat on the chair Brantley was on, pushing my hair back.
Scarlet’s eyes come to mine. “Yours is the same as The Kings, only you have this.” She takes out a small jewel. It’s red glint glistens against the light. “On your forehead.”