In Peace Lies Havoc (Midnight Mayhem 1)

I raise a challenging eyebrow. “And if we don’t?”

Kyrin flicks the deck of cards between his fingers. “We’ve never had someone tap out before, so who knows, Little Dove. I guess it would put you in an awfully fragile situation.”

I gulp quietly so I don’t exhibit my fear. “What are the rules?” I ask, peeking at my cards. This was an awful idea.

Kyrin pours another glass of vodka, sliding it toward me. “You can’t ask the color, the family, or whether it’s an odd number.”

“What?” I gasp, ignoring the drink. “How am I supposed to figure out the card?”

“I guess you’re about to figure that out,” Keaton murmurs.

Kyrin places the rest of the cards into the middle of the table and turns to Keaton. He searches his eyes for a few seconds. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Black.”

“Really? I thought it was red.”

Keaton glares.

Kyrin chuckles. “King of hearts.”

Keaton flicks the card around, revealing the king of hearts.

“What? That’s impossible!” I don’t understand the dynamic of many card games, but I’m almost certain I have never seen one played like this.

Killian leans into me. “This will be hard for you because you’re new and we’re intimidating, but I’ll tell you a secret.” He leans in farther, close enough for me to feel his lips over my earlobe. “People usually display what they hold.”

I have no idea what that means.

“Stop fucking cheating, Kill,” King mutters, shaking his head.

“Hey! I mean, we’ve never had a girl in our group before. I’m just making sure she has a fair go. And man, we’ve thrown her into the deep end by playing sixers.”

“Bullshit.” Killian chuckles, glaring at me. “We’ve been playing this game since we we’re two years old.”

The silence spills out between the group.

“Two?” I ask, shocked. How could a two-year-old know how to play a game that I can’t play?

Keaton answers, “He’s kidding.” He says the words, but I don’t feel their truth.

They continue to go around the circle, and I watch as one after the other gets them right. King has the most cards stacked against him when it’s my turn to deal. I put the cards in the middle of the table.

“You gonna drink your drink?” Kyrin asks, nudging his head toward the glass.

“I don’t take drinks from strangers.”

“Huh.” Kyrin smiles. “Maybe that’s something we could learn. You know, don’t take humans who don’t belong to you.”

I wince, but not enough for any of them to notice.

My eyes flick to Killian who is on my left. He holds up his card, tapping it against his mouth. “Come on, Little Bird. You know you’ve got this.”

I have no idea what I’ve got, and this game is weird. I don’t know where to start or what I should ask.

“Ever kissed a stranger?” Not sure why that came out of my mouth, but I’ll go with it, because it’s Killian. What’s the worst that could happen?

“Take me to dinner before you fuck me, Little Bird.” He chuckles, hiding behind his card.

His left eye twitches.

I have no idea what the hell I’m doing. “I don’t know. Six of diamonds?”

“Wrong!” Killian flashes a ten of hearts.

“This game sucks,” I murmur, before realizing who is next.

Kingston stares at me flatly, his thick eyelashes fanning across his high cheekbones every time he blinks. His lips are the perfect size. Not too plump but not too thin. His face is in flawless symmetry, every feature perfect and aligned.

He holds my stare, the card tucked between his thumb and his pointer finger. He holds his drink in the other hand. I notice the leather bracelet on his wrist and the black ring on his finger.

Silence fills the space around us, and I swear I’m breathing loudly.

I blink slowly. “Ever been in love?”

He holds my stare, not so much as flinching. “Never.”

“Ever plan to?”

His jaw clenches. “Never.”

“Some might say you have a black heart.”

He cocks his head as the corner of his mouth kicks up an inch. It’s subtle, but I caught it. I carry on, my tongue swiping across my bottom lip. His eyes fall from mine to catch the movement before they come back up. Again, subtly. “Some might say…” I whisper. What the fuck am I doing? “That you’re an ace of spades.”

He stills. His eyes narrow on me, and everything around me ceases to exist. In this moment, it’s just him and me and our silent tug-of-war.

He tenses his jaw a few times and then flips the card around to face me.

Everything comes back into real time when the rest of the boys erupt into a fit of disbelief. There, between King’s fingers, is the ace of spades.

I blink a few times to pull myself out of the daze I was in. “Wait, you swapped that!” I point to the card.

King flings the card into the middle of the table. “I didn’t, and I don’t cheat.”