In Peace Lies Havoc (Midnight Mayhem 1)

I drop down onto the bed, reach for my black jeans and shove my feet through them. “Yes. I’m going to watch Rose’s initiation.”

Kyrin grins. “Really?”

“Yes,” I snap, doing up my button. I rake my fingers through my long hair in an attempt to brush it. “Why?”

He shrugs, nodding his head. “I’ll walk you.”

Shoving my feet into my Chucks, I eye him skeptically. “Why would you do that?”

His tongue sneaks out and runs across his bottom lip. They’re all very good-looking. Annoyingly so. Kyrin and Keaton are the quiet ones; they’re the monsters who sit in the corner and watch everyone kill each other before they come in and feast on people’s battered souls. Killian is the jokester. He’s the one I feel somewhat comfortable with. Mainly because he has nice eyes. They’re smiling eyes. The kind of eyes that he doesn’t have to smile for them to smile, unlike Keaton’s, whose are more serious and intense and fanned with dark eyelashes. Kyrin has jet-black hair and cognac honey eyes. The kind that you don’t trust because he looks a little deranged.

Kingston. Well, King is something else entirely. He has chocolate hair, that’s the perfect length to run your fingers through, tanned skin, and vivid green eyes. There are my color green eyes, and then there are Kingston’s green. They almost look alien-like. His eyelashes are as thick as his hair, and his cheekbones sit high. They’re all gorgeous guys and all athletically built, with King being the biggest. Kingston has the triangle tattoo over his left pec and a vine of roses over the right side of his stomach that slips down beneath his pants, but other than that, I don’t think he has any other tattoos. Keaton is covered in ink from head to toe. They’re all over his neck, head, arms, and even some on his face. Kyrin has a sleeve, but that’s all I’ve seen so far, and Killian, as far as I’ve seen, is clean.

“Why would you want to walk me?” I ask again, standing and shoving my phone into my back pocket.

Kyrin shrugs, glaring at me. “Because.”

I pause for a few seconds, attempting to find the energy to further question him on his answer. “Fine. Will I get an initiation?”

He waves ahead, stepping aside for me to shuffle past him. “No. We don’t do one for The Brothers.”

I ignore how uncomfortable I feel around him and make my way out of their RV, shivering when the cold air hits my arms. I am somewhat relieved that I won’t have to go through whatever it is that Rose is about to do, though.

“Hey!” Killian is about to pass us, but he stops, instantly stealing my attention. His smile falters when his eyes drift over my shoulder, obviously landing on Kyrin.

“Going to bed early for once?” Kyrin asks him skeptically, standing right beside me. I try to draw some heat from Kyrin without actually touching him but fail miserably.

Killian rolls his eyes. Something I would have missed had it not been for the bright garden lights that lead paths toward every RV and trailer, as well as one that goes straight to the big tent at the end. “No.”

Killian shoves past Kyrin. “Wait here.” He disappears into the RV and returns with a hoodie in his arms. “Here.” He shoves the warm garment into my chest. “My cock is shriveling up just watching you shake like that.”

“Ah.” I ignore him. “Thanks.” Without looking, I slip my arms into the hoodie, instantly sighing at the warmth it provides.

Kyrin doesn’t say anything, so I look at him, finding him staring back at me.

“What?” I ask, curling the hood around my neck. It hangs to my mid-thigh, and I couldn’t be more appreciative.

“Nothing,” he grumbles. “Let’s go.”

Killian points to each trailer as we pass, mentioning who is in each one.

“Midnight?” I ask, just as we’re passing a pastel purple RV that looks a smidge smaller than The Brothers’ RV.

“Yeah,” Killian says. “They’re the acrobats and dancers. Maya is a contortionist, too, and Val does the aerial straps. D has been trying to get—”

“You’re rather chatty tonight, bro. Maybe I should start calling you Chatty Kathy with a K.”

Killian replies, but I’m not sure what he says, because as I re-enter the tent, I’m taken aback by fact that it’s a completely different world. It’s as though they manipulate your mind, replacing all of what you see during the day and changing it with everything your dreams are made from.

“Wow,” I gasp, taking in the droplets of neon purple lights that dip around the ceiling.

“You ain’t seen nothing yet. This is just the practice tent. It isn’t the one we perform in. Come on. Sit in the front.”

I don’t reply. I just let both of them lead me to the front seats. As I sit down and the plush cushions sink beneath me, I’m awestruck by everything around me.