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)
Priest glowers at me. “How are you so sure?”
I bare my teeth when the alcohol hits the back of my throat. “Because he would have said something. Every single person has done everything in their power to ensure those girls aren’t going to be harmed, even going as far as to drag out the ritual until we had figured a way to counter the herbs we had to drink. Then there’s your dad asking me to watch out for her, for us to keep them busy while they searched. Now this—” My fingers flex around my head.
“It’s sleepwalking, nightmares, and the occasional sleep paralysis. It ain’t that uncommon,” he counters flatly. “And it sure as fuck ain’t the curse. My sister is her daddy’s girl. She’s a master manipulator and can whisper secrets into the ears of anyone who will believe them.” Priest cracks his neck. “You’ve been thinking with your dick when it comes to her. She probably did it on purpose, have you thinking you’re only looking after her for my old man when she’s used that as a weapon to blind you this whole time.”
“Damn. I was going to say who hurt you, but I already know who hurt you.”
He ignores me. “She can continue to think we believe her about the curse, and in the meantime, that booklet she has needs to be given to Saint. She’s the only one who can translate it.”
My lip curls but I can’t fight the smirk. “Are you still mad about Bishop asking me to be the one to look out for her after that time in town square? I was just being a big brother to her since she didn’t have a present one.”
“Last I checked,” Priest holds up a single finger, “you don’t fuck your little sister.”
I flip him off.
Priest holds my eyes, before they move over my shoulder to where Vaden appears. “I’m serious. She’s more like BVH than she is my mother. She doesn’t answer with emotion. She’s a brat, sure, but she understands this life more than anyone.” His mouth lifts a smidge and I want to punch him. “Then again, she could still hate you from the other night, because although she handles herself like Dad, she can hold a fucking grudge like Mom.” Priest throws back the rest of his drink. “She’s coming tonight. Watch how everyone reacts. I wanna know who this bitch is and if there’s any connection between her and us.”
“Her name’s Eloise,” Vaden says from behind and I shift over my shoulder.
“Motherfucker, you got her to talk?” My brow lifts. We haven’t been able to get a word out of her in days.
His hand rubs his chin, using the other to pluck the bottle from me. “That’s all she gave. I’m guessing it’s her name.” Vaden stares between the two of us. “For the record, I don’t think these people have anything to do with the shoot-out in Perdita. We need to call Thorn and see what the fuck he’s onto. There’s a chance he has used us as a weapon.”
He isn’t alone in those thoughts.
Halen
Music drifts around us as I readjust my mask. My fingertips graze the crusted diamonds before resting it back on my lap. Energy prickles over my skin. I can’t sit still. Do they know? It’s not that we were having a Founding Families’ dinner party, because we had them often, but it’s that we’re wearing our Calvarias to said dinner. Why the fuck are we wearing these to dinner?
My blood turns cold.
The racing of my thoughts works through my fingers, as I tap against the silver handle of the knife. The heat of his stare is hotter than the candle that burns between us, but I’m thankful for my Calvaria. It gives me more confidence to do what I’m about to do.
My mouth accentuates the syllables as I whisper a snide fuck you. It’s not like he didn’t miss it, because unlike Vitiosis, mine isn’t a full front.
The music offers the perfect background behind the chatter that pools around the table. Roast meat has been carved with the precision of a professional killer, and fresh salads have been tossed using Mom’s favorite dressing. Even in the spacious dining room of Hayes Castle, we all know why we’re here.
I just hope I’m wrong, because if I am… I reach up to touch the side of my mask again. Then I know what these are for.
Stella’s hand rests on the knife in front of her, and River swipes up the tumbler filled with whiskey. The silence between us down this end isn’t loud, since the pianist won’t shut the fuck up, but the tension in the air is deafening.
“This is going to get interesting,” River murmurs from behind her glass, her long blonde hair brushing my arm. It’s a subtle reminder of the sins we have all drowned ourselves in and what possibly led us to this moment.