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Violet and Izzy came downstairs with us, and Breaker begrudgingly let his younger brother King join us even though King seemed to be really into whoever he was texting. The guy was in his senior year of high school, and let’s just say he left nothing but broken hearts in his wake.

“Girlfriend?” I teased, ruffling his golden tipped hair as he smacked my hand out of the way. “Let me see!”

“First off.” He very gently patted his mess of curls down. “And second, I don’t do girlfriends; they’re too clingy.”

“Ew.” Breaker was sitting next to him, tossing a football in the air. “Please don’t list your sexcapades for us, little bro, plus there’s only room for one slayer in this family.”

“Both of you.” I shook my head. “Disgusting.”

“But, we’re so pretty.” Breaker winked and then licked his plump lower lip. I hoped to God he’d get saddled with a girl even more power-hungry than me; it would be insanely gratifying watching someone put him in his place.

Junior was holding vigil next to Ash while Izzy and Violet tended to his bloody hands.

They weren’t as close to Claire as I had been, but it didn’t matter. In their eyes, they hadn’t just lost their future sister in law—they had lost their future niece or nephew.

I didn’t ask how far along she was because part of me didn’t want to know; I was afraid it would break me even more, make it more real. She hadn’t looked like she’d been putting on weight, so I assumed she was in her first trimester.

We’d all decided that we needed to make something for Ash to remember the baby by as well, Violet and Izzy said they would be on it once they got all the blood off of him.

“You know what bothers me?” Tank looked completely different in Breaker’s skinny jeans and black hoody. He’d been good looking but now was more so. Even more, he looked like he belonged. I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or worried. Undercover FBI didn’t often work well with our families, just ask Junior’s dad how that ended.

“What bothers you?” I said since nobody answered him.

“It’s probably nothing, but all the De Lange kids that we know of are now at Eagle Elite, but that doesn’t explain the University. When I dug, I couldn’t find anything traceable, and neither could your guy Sergio. Someone made a cash offer on the school, offered scholarships to several of the De Lange kids, but nobody can trace it. I guess I’m just wondering what we do in the meantime.”

“We wait.” Junior was first to speak. “And we watch our backs like always.”

“Sounds safe,” Breaker grumbled under his breath.

Tank frowned. “If we wait, someone else could die.”

“We wait.” Junior moved to his feet. “We have no choice but to be on the defensive, especially since we don’t know enough about the offense.” Junior’s eyes flashed as he pulled his Glock from his jeans and pointed it at Tank’s head.

Power radiated from Junior’s body as the white Henley wrapped tightly around his muscled body, paired with tight ripped jeans and black combat boots that somehow looked more rocker than anything and I was in heaven, licking my lips, waiting for him to get this over with so I could take him into my mouth.

“Whoa!” Tank held up his hands. “What the hell?”

“We need you to stay undercover.” Junior sighed like he was bored. “That much is obvious, but we also need you to swear fealty to the Family.”

“Now?” Tank’s panicked look did nothing but annoy me.

“No, dipshit.” I yawned. “Tomorrow. Can we pencil you in at three?”

Junior smirked. “You scared Tank?”

“No.” His hands stopped shaking as he stared Junior down. “Just tell me what I need to do.”

Junior scratched his chin with the barrel of the gun. Cockiness and arrogance oozed from him. Breaker and King slowly got up and grabbed their own guns then moved behind Tank, standing watch like guards while Junior spoke. “Denounce the De Lange Family line, and blood must be spilled to prove you’ll bleed for the Family, for any one of us. The only way out of this is death; the only way in is sacrifice.” He held up his gun again. “So, you get a choice. Leg or shoulder?”

Tank slowly stood and then ground out, “Shoulder.”

“Good choice,” Breaker said behind him.

“Really?” King shrugged. “I think the leg shot has a better chance of skimming because of Junior’s aim.”

“Oh, right.” Breaker snickered. “His aim is shit, Tank; I’d pray he doesn’t accidentally hit your heart.”

“Are you shitting me right now?” Tank roared just as Chase, Phoenix, my dad, Sergio, Dante, Andrei, Nikolai, and Tex made their way into the basement.

Most of them were in black trousers with their white shirts rolled up past their forearms like they were ready to get dirty. So many tattoos swirled on arms and hands and necks that I had to just shake my head and look away.


Tags: Rachel Van Dyken Mafia Royals Crime