Tacet a Mortuis (The Elite King's Club 3)

“There they are!” She went to launch for them, but I snatched them into my chest.

“I’m wearing them tonight.”

“Fine,” she grumbled, taking out a white dress. “I’ll wear this.”

“Good idea,” I nodded, heading to the bathroom. “You look good in white.” I’m setting everything on the counter when Nate’s side opens. Ignoring him because I’m used to doing so, I unclasped my bikini while holding my breasts from his view.

“What?” I snapped.

“Are you coming to the party?”

“Yes,” I hissed, reaching for the faucet and turning it on.

“You can both come with me, and have you heard from Bishop?”

I shook my head. “No. I haven’t checked my phone, though.”

Nate glared at me, and I quickly slipped under the pelting hot water. “Anything else?” I called out, annoyed at his presence.

The door slamming was all I got as a reply.

Daemon

One two three four five six…six…six…

“Shush!” I roared to the internal battles inside of my head. Creeping down the dark and gloomy corridors, I pressed the palm of my hand against the damp concrete wall, my head tilting at the sounds.

Deep breathing was coming from one of the rooms. One of the many rooms in this quarter. The island was separated by quarters, each functioned by your importance to the Elites and your lineage. This was the royal quarter, also known as the Regiis quarter. Then there was the Secundus quarter, Tertium quarter, and finally, the Nihil quarter. Each faction was eloquently designed for their cause. The royal quarter was exactly as it was. I inched farther, closer to the white door where the sounds were coming out from and pressed my ear to the frosted wood.

Deep breathing was coming again, and then a faint scream.

“That’s it, keep going. You can do it. Push.” The door swung open and Jaysena, one of the nurses on the island was staring back at me.

“Sir.” She bowed. “Are you ok?” Her head remained dipped, her eyes searching the floor. So timid. So docile. So “Kill her, I’m sick of seeing her face.”

‘Shut up,’ I shouted in my head, my strength at keeping the voices under control getting better.

“Fine. What is happening?” She got what I was trying to say, and gestured wide, allowing me to see inside the room.

“A Swan, my lord.”

I tilted my head, and a girl with pink hair that hung down to the dip in her waist was crouched, hugging a baby wrapped in a blanket. Her eyes came to mine, and she whispered, “Please, don’t say anything yet. I’m best friends with your sister, my name is Tillie.”

“I’m done.” I smoothed my hair down. I decided on flat and straight for tonight, sharp enough to slice some Kings. Obviously, the liquor was hitting me at full force, but I swiped my phone off the drawers and tucked it into my bra. The little see-through outfit I was wearing was to die for, but I totally wouldn’t wear this if I were sober.

“I’m ready too,” Tate slurred, standing on her wobbly legs.

“Impressions, we were going to make some impressions.” I was chanting to myself as my door swung open and Nate’s eyes fell on mine.

“What the...” he paused, his mouth hanging open as he slowly took in my outfit. His eyes flew from my face to my breasts, to my feet, and then back again. “You can’t rock up like that, sis.”

I shoved past him. “I can do what I please.” We all headed out of the house and I got into the front of his Audi.

He fired it up, shaking his head. “You’re in fucking trouble, girl.” I didn’t care. At that very moment, I was drunk and pleased with myself. I hadn’t heard from Bishop—at all, since I left his house yesterday, so I was feeling… irrational. But I still had his gift in my pocket. We turned the music loud and started dancing. I hit play on “Sex with Me” by Rihanna and Tatum started singing the lyrics in the back like a twit, accentuating every word. Nate picked up what she was doing and laughed. We all fell into a breezy trip and it wasn’t long until Tate pulled out her phone.

“Yo! Smile.”

I turned my head over my shoulder with a smirk, my hair tricking over my other shoulder, throwing up deuces, and Nate flipped the camera off, his eyes staying on the road.

“What was the caption?” I asked, just as we pulled hit the city.

“When incest looks hot.”

“Tate!” I snapped, and Nate broke out in tears, his laughter not looking to subside.

“Jase ‘liked’ it.”

“Of course he did,” I muttered just as we pulled underneath an underground parking lot.

“And of course Bishop owns a five-star penthouse, I mean, totally logical.”

Nate chuckled, shifting the car into park. “Yeah, understatement of the century, wait until you see this set up.”

We rode the way up the elevator, Nate punching in a code that took us straight to Bishop’s penthouse. The doors spread out and opened onto a sea of young people and rock music blaring through all the bodies. I couldn’t even admire the house as much as I would have liked because there were people everywhere, but from what I could see, it was set up like a three-story loft. I walked to the edge of the little balcony that the elevator opened out on and peeked at the place.