Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 160578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 803(@200wpm)___ 642(@250wpm)___ 535(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 803(@200wpm)___ 642(@250wpm)___ 535(@300wpm)
“I’ve given my sperm to Pop. I won’t be birthing any kids.”
Dad ignores me as if I’m talking a bunch of shit. I’m not. “The first thing you need to know about that is that it is never to leave us. No one is to know. Not Vaden, not War, not even your sister. This is for you and you only.” His eyes collide with mine. “Tell me you understand. I cannot go further until you say it.”
I stare back at him. “You don’t need to ask, but yes.”
“This goes back to Humphrey. When he created the Kings, he did so with intention. As deranged as he was, he had the intellect of a damn genius.” Dad swigs back another shot of whiskey. “There are translations of our last name being Devil or Fire. Ever wonder why?”
“Nope. Never once crossed my mind.”
Dad chuckles. “Inside that envelope, you’ll begin to find out the reason why.”
I tear the envelope open and tip it upside down. A key falls into the palm of my hand with a thud. With the surface of worn craftsmanship, the shaft of the key ends with the carving of a skull. “And what does this open to?”
When he doesn’t answer, I study him while balancing the metal between my fingers. “A nightmare that is now yours. I’m sure you’ll handle it with much better finesse than I ever did.”
I’ve idolized him all my life, but I’d be lying if I said I agreed with his choices when taking the gavel.
“A nightmare?” I flash a wide smirk. “Color me intrigued.”
Dad falls onto the sofa in the corner of the room, his mouth in a straight line as he loosens the buttons on the top of his suit shirt. “This is something I wish I didn’t have to give you.”
“Is there anything else I should know about this mysterious key?” He balances his glass on his thigh, regarding me closely. I’ve been told I am his replica all my life. I don’t see it.
He leans forward. “Three things about that key. But first, get me the whiskey.”
Even in the comfort of the Watch Tower, the air grows tight the closer I get to the bar. Passing the other bottles, my fingers find the encasement of Louis XIII Black Pearl. Only a few bottles still exist, and I own all of them.
Dad’s eyes fly up to mine when I lean forward to pour a finger or two into his waiting glass. “Luna was there tonight.”
I snicker, placing the bottle between us and falling onto the chair opposite.
He continues, because of course he fucking does. “You gonna talk with her?”
“Why would I?” Lifting the glass up, I follow the hue of polished honey.
“You know why. Because of what happened when you were last together.”
I sigh. “When I fucked her or when I killed her?”
He swallows his liquor and clears his throat, swiping the residue off his lip. “Gonna skip the underage sex and go right to the kill part, even if I do think your colorful wording is a matter of choice.”
I shrug. “Wishful thinking, and she wasn’t underage.”
He ignores me. “There are a million reasons why you both shouldn’t be near each other.” I wonder when the time will come when he finally asks me the question he’s dying to ask.
“Let’s start with the three things I need to know about this key.” The warmth from the light reflects off the bronzed metal. “Since we don’t have much time.”
Dad tears off his tie. “One, is the power that is on the other side of that door isn’t something that should be handled lightly. Take the first step with intention.”
I wave my hand. “Next.”
“Two, is that once you unlock it, there’s no going back. You choose what you’re going to do, but you can’t backpedal. You have a chance to leave it as is. It’s not a requirement to you taking the gavel or being a Hayes, but it’s something that is your choice.” I must look as confused as I feel because he continues. “I mean it, Priest. You can leave it.”
“Did you?” My fingers snap closed around it, bending my head to the side. “Unlock it?”
Dad’s eyes turn to glass as he relaxes back into the leather sofa, blowing out a deep breath. “No.” He pulls out a rolled joint from his front pocket, lighting the end and blowing on it. “Fuck no.”
“Why?” My intrigue is at an all-time high. Which is saying something, since I don’t have much to begin with.
“Because I don’t walk into rooms where I don’t know who awaits on the other side.”
“That’s your control talking,” I jest under my breath. We both know I’m not joking. Bishop Hayes is, if anything, a control freak.
His eyes snap to mine. Could it be? The legend of BVH showing his ugly head? They soften. I should hit him. That softness is what put us in this position to begin with. Not that he’s weak, but I’d heard stories of what he was like before her. My mother practically lulled him to sleep like a monster that’s OD’d on narcotics. That was a mistake. He should have kept things separate instead of handing her his balls on a silver platter.