The door opens, and Kill strolls through with his mom and dad. The Cornelii family, always so fucking strange. Kill slaps my ass in passing before seeking out someone to torment. Behind the Cornelii family is the Nero family—aka Kyrin’s family—and the princess herself. Long teal-colored hair, milky white skin, and bright blue eyes look up at P.
Her little tattooed arms fly around P’s neck, pulling her in close. “I’m so glad you’re alive, P!” Cartier is the only other person I have ever let call P by the nickname I gave her, and that’s only because the little shit doesn’t scare easily.
“Move, Cartier. You’re blocking the way. Ky pushes inside and heads straight for the patio out the back. His parents come in, and before I know it, Cartier and P have whisked off somewhere, as if there was no absence.
Behind the Neros are the Ciceros, aka Keaton’s family. Ash still makes Keres use her last name sometimes, though, what with the power struggle between the two of them. Ash and P’s family is one of the highest ranking to come from Kiznitch because they owned the entirety of the land. The literal land was her family’s; the rest of us just helped find it. There was a war between the Kournikovas and The Brothers way, way back when the settlement happened, and then Ash went and married Keres. Ash jumped into the wheel with him and carved an ace of spades into the metal to help keep her focused and grounded. When we asked her what that ace meant, she just winked and said, “You’ll find yours one day, and you’ll know.”
My hand comes out to her as she passes, the memory reminding me that I need to ask her. “Ash!” She pauses, turning back to me. God, she looks so much like P. “Your ace, are you going to tell us what that means yet?”
She shuffles her feet, waiting until Keres disappears into the sea of people. She sighs, folding her arms in front of herself. “I was in love with Klaus, King.” Her eyes soften around the edges. “He was my ace.”
“As in the game?” I ask, my eyebrow cocked.
She nods. “You know the old legend. Don’t pretend that you didn’t play a game of Sixers with her.” Her eyebrow cocks as though she already knows the answer.
Because she does. Because it’s the game we all play with new recruits and/or with each other.
“I did,” I answer. “But I didn’t know that the ace of spades was a thing?”
Her mouth splits into a half smile. “It’s just a myth, Kingston…” She turns and disappears. I’m left speechless. Part of the legend back in Kiznitch started with a specific deck of cards. They were essentially the same kind that you buy everywhere, only these were made for an illusionist. The face of the deck was black, with small little demon babies on them. They were creepy as fuck. The game of Sixers was originally a game that was created by Killian’s great-great-great, (and so on), grandfather. During the game, it was fine to be dealt the ace of spades, but if your opponent picked the card from your hand, then that girl or guy, would be either the reason you live or the reason you die. She would either be your blessing or your fuckin’ curse. In Ash’s view of things, I guess it was more of a curse, because now Klaus is dead. For me, I don’t know if I’ll ever know whether P will be my blessing or my curse. She’d be my blessing because I fucking need her, but she’d be my curse because I’d fucking die for her. But I mean, shit, it’s a myth. Everyone knows that it’s basically illusory, because if it was real, that would be magic, right? And magic isn’t real…
I sigh, sipping on my cool drink as Cartier prattles on beside me about the next tattoo she’s getting. Apparently, on her leg. She’s so much more beautiful than I remember, now sporting long, wavy teal-colored hair.
“I heard you and King caused a whole lot of trouble these past couple months.” She waggles her eyebrows.
I laugh. “Yes, we did. How about you? Why aren’t you in the show?”
She snorts, wiping her mouth. “You think my psycho brother would allow that? Seems he can be a dirty fuck, but I can’t.” I can’t help the laughter that explodes out my chest.
“A dirty fuck?”
She nods. “Yes. A dirty fuck.” She leans forward and takes the joint off Maya. “It isn’t really something I want to do either, and since my brother is filling the duty for the brotherhood, they don’t care too much about what I do.”
Maya takes it back. “Only who you do.”
Kyrin pulls out a seat beside Cartier. “Which is fuckin’ no one. Amiright?” He glares at his baby sister, and you can see the dark shadow shift slightly, accommodating her.