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“Go! Drive!” Bishop moves back into his seat as our driver speeds off with the rest of The Kings behind us. “Fuck, you got Elijah?”

“Yeah.” I rest my gun on my lap. “By the way, not how I wanted to do this.”

“I fucking know,” Bishop says to me. “Which is precisely why we had to do it like this. Too messy and not enough time.”

“You guys are forgetting that we killed the Dux of The Gentlemen and his beta. Not their whole crew.”

I sit on his words as we drive toward the next phase. “Well aware, but still felt fucking good.” I’m not going to pretend we know a lot about The Gentlemen, because we don’t. We don’t know how much they’ve expanded over the years, and although Elijah’s murder wasn’t exactly how I had it planned, I still relish in the fact he saw my face as he took his last breath.

“Well, fuck. Phase two come the fuck at me,” Bishop says smugly.

The cemetery is no different than others, only a little edgier. The sites are aged, yet maintained, but there are more tombstones than there are gravestones with most of the families choosing to display than to bury. We’re all standing in the middle of the Hayes tomb when Hector and the rest of The Fathers walk in, Hector’s jaw tight.

“I take it that was all of you?”

Max, Raguel, and Johan stand beside Hector, as Gabriel hovers toward the back.

“You boys have sure not made my life easy,” Gabriel mutters from behind, shaking his head. Gabriel, Nate’s father, is the Peacemaker of The Kings. It’s almost comical to picture Nate filling that role of his family; it makes more sense to have him on the school board instead.

“Boys, I said one kill. You all took out five, and they’re not men you wanted heat with.”

Bishop leans forward, resting his hands on the large boulder that sits in the center of the space. A small fire burns in the middle, flames licking the darkness and offering a smudge of orange light. “Who were they?”

Hector sighs, pinching his eyes with his fingers. “We will talk about that later. For now, let’s just continue with the phases.” Hector moves through the speech, speaking in Latin, and I watch as everyone slices themselves on their finger to drop their blood inside an old rusted bowl. Truthfully, I find the rust shady as fuck more than the blood. Hector continues speaking the six commandments as we all take a sip of the whiskey spoiled blood. See what I did there.

Saint—the guy Saint—is the final one to take a hit before placing it on top of the boulder.

“As you know, you’ve all come to fulfill your duty and placement in the Kings’ world. You all contribute to how we remain strong in the universe, unbroken. For generations, this has never cracked. I will be going a separate way next year, which will furthermore make our line strong.” He pauses, and my eyes find Bishop, who looks between Nate and me. What the fuck is he talking about, going a separate way? Hector continues. “Where I am going will be extremely beneficial to our world and will be opening even more doors. Hunter will be coming with me.” I still. “Who will serve as my right hand. You will know. More details soon, but for now and always” —Hector smiles at his son, lifting the rusted bowl and bringing it to his mouth—“we reign.”

Saint

There has to be fifty or so people floating around the room, as soft classical music fills the space. Waiters are passing around small finger foods and alcoholic drinks, and every now and then I find people staring at me. Of course, I don’t see what they look like behind the face paint, but there’s no mistaking their openly glaring at yours truly. I find myself drifting in and out of focus. I haven’t heard from Brantley or Bishop at all. My anxiety is rolled into a nice little package in the apex of my gut, and no matter how much I sip on this champagne, it doesn’t seem to settle.

“Hey.” Tate slides up beside me. “Have you seen Tillie? I think she’s still upset with me.” Her eyes are swinging around the room as she taps her French-manicured fingernail against her martini glass.

I sip on my champagne. “She’ll come around. Just give her time.”

Tate exhales, before turning to face me. “Do you know Tillie? That bitch holds on to a grudge harder than Nate’s initial commitment issues.” Liquid shoots up my throat when I stifle a laugh, swiping the excess from my lips. She continues, her tone softer. “I just wanted us to be okay for Madison.”

I squeeze her arm. “I promise. It’ll be fine.” We’ve been here for three hours, and The Kings are still not back. I catch people looking at their watches and phones to check the time, and every now and then, Scarlet and Elena pass worried looks between each other, so I guess it usually never takes this long. The lights dim and people stop talking. Scarlet is beside me in a flash.


Tags: Amo Jones The Elite King's Club Dark