The Broken Puppet (The Elite King's Club 2)

He grits his teeth, and I open my eyes and watch as his hands ball into fists on top of his knees. His nostrils flare. “Who?”

I know his name. I don’t know where he is or what happened to him, but I know his name.

“I don’t know who he is. I don’t remember much of it. All I know is it started when I was young.” I lie on my back and bring my hands under my head.

“Give me any details you can,” Bishop urges, turning to face me. “I mean it, Madison.”

Oh, I know he means it, and I know if I give him the name, he will have no problem finding this guy. It doesn’t matter if Lucan is in China or if he’s six feet under already. I know Bishop will find him, and he will kill him if he’s still alive, but that’s my kill. I promised myself long ago that one day I will get my retribution, and I’m not about to cheat my younger self out of that promise, so I lie. “I don’t know his name.”

Bishop studies my face closely, and I start to panic. I know he can read people; he reads people so accurately, but he has always said how he struggles to read me. Even though I know this, paranoia kicks into overtime, and I clear my throat, knowing I have to give him something so he can back off a little. Bishop opens his mouth, probably about to call me out on my obvious lie, but I interject. “He would call me Silver.”

“Silver?” Bishop asks, thinking over those words. “What, like as in he knew you were the Silver Swan?”

I shrug. “I honestly don’t know.”

Bishop gets up and walks toward the door. Pausing, he inches his head over his shoulder. “Get some sleep.” Then he walks out and leaves me there brewing. Shit. Did I give too much? Has he worked out who that is? Surely not. No one knew that was what Lucan called me except me and Lucan… and….

Forget.

But Bishop is smart—too smart. He picks up things that slip past normal ears and eyes.

Swinging my legs off the bed, I reach underneath until my hand skims over the worn leather I’ve become so accustomed to touching. Pulling it out, I shuffle up my bed until I’m leaning against the headboard. Flipping open the first few pages, I jump to where I was up to.

10.

Revelation

Et delicatis praetulissem, sicut truncum arboris fluitantem olor et quasi argentum bullet sicut mortiferum.

- As alluring as a floating swan, but as deadly as a silver bullet.

“I want to know why,” I probed, trying to get Humphrey to confess. Why is it so important that a woman is not to be born into this cult?

“I told you, woman. You only know what I want you to know. None of this has to make sense to you, because you’re a woman.” Biting down every reaction I had, I took a seat on one of the chairs. Gazing into the scalding hot flame that flicked up to the stone fireplace, I whipped my head toward him.

“Tell me.” Deciding I was going to fight him on this, I got up off my chair and walked toward him. “I want to know. I have a right to know—my…” I stopped, the swelling of my throat halting any and every movement.

One.

Two.

Three.

I began counting internally, ordering the tears to sink back into their sockets.

Humphrey rose up off his chair and headed toward me. His expression changed, all the lines and wrinkles that carved through his face deepened, and that’s when I knew I had struck a nerve. I always did. He reared his hand back and slapped me across the cheek, the sting causing a rush of heat to flame up my face. I fell to the ground in a heap, holding the throbbing ache and looking up at him.

He kneeled down beside me. “Now, I’m going to tell you a little something, not because you asked, or rather, demanded, but because I want to. Understand me?”

I nodded, because I had no other choice if I wanted to see the sunrise tomorrow or my son again.

He inched toward me, his breath heating my earlobe. I shivered in disgust, but hid it, knowing rightly that him becoming aware of the fact he disgusts me would warrant me another beating. “Because women can’t be trusted. Because women are easily distracted by fame and money. Because the amount of power the Silver Swan could gain would be immense, because that thing between your legs is a weakness. A patch. It’s alluring, and it’s distracting.”

“So you do this because she would have too much power?”

“Ahhh,” Humphrey grinned, “she gets it. Yes, she would also be too appealing to the other Kings. Far, far too appealing. There’s no way, and that is why we can never have a Silver Swan. As alluring as a peaceful swan floating on water, but as lethal as a silver bullet.”