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

“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” Nate mumbled off more to himself, I was guessing by the volume of his answer.

“People, Nate. They’re just people.”

“So that’s why we’re here? Because it’s a threat to me? Daemon mentioning me and then something about a Silver Swan?”

Bishop nodded reluctantly. “I think so, and because I wanted to check on Daemon.”

My heart warmed a little by his confession. Whether it was entirely true or not, I couldn’t care right now.

“Okay.” I shook off all of my other feelings and straightened my head. “So what’s the worst that could be happening right now?”

Bishop cleared his throat. “The worst would be that Daemon is dead, Katsia has gone rogue, and the Lost Boys have finally taken ownership of the island. There would be riots and havoc, so we do not want this one.”

My eyes closed as my chest tightened. “No. That can’t be an option.”

“The other one is that my instincts have gone to shit and I’m wrong.”

“Shit,” I exhaled, my chest squeezing again. “That’s obviously not an option either, but there’s no way about Daemon.”

Bishop nodded. “Agreed. He will most likely be safe because he’s smart and strong, but I really fucking hope I’m wrong about everything.” The bumps started dipping harder. My head almost smashing against the roof of the truck.

(enter)

“Bishop! This place is fucking creepy!” Khales ran up behind me, tossing her hair into a high ponytail. “Do you come here often? Is this your secret playground? Is there cake here?”

I chuckled. “Shut up. No, I don’t come here often. I have to run an errand for my dad.”

She looked around the little township in skepticism. “This is an errand?”

I shrugged and pointed to one of the little shops. “There’s cake here.”

Khales eyes lit up, then she grabbed onto my hands and pulled me toward the cake shop. The bell dinged up ahead as we entered. I shook my head. “You’d be too easy to kidnap you know. Just wave some cake and they’ve got you.”

“Ah, but will they keep me, that’s the question…” She winked and skipped the rest of the way to the counter where a glass cabinet displayed all sorts of different cakes cut into delicate slices and sitting on tiny plates. I turned to look outside, a shiver of terror running through my veins, but I was met with people wandering down the dark street, the only light coming from the fairy lights dangling ahead of them. Some were dressed in gym gear, some were in suits and armor. Perdita was an odd place, but it was all these people knew. It looked pretty on the surface, but most of these people weren’t aware what laid below their feet. They lived, thinking that this was the only life available. Generations back, there was a crock of shit cooked up to make them believe there was an apocalypse that wiped out the rest of humanity. They were caged in the town, without a clue. It was really just a well made-up story that started generations ago, all for what? Power. Power, money, respect, and order.

“Here!” Khales handed me a piece of vanilla cake, but I shook my head.

“I’m good.”

“Oh, come on, B. You need to loosen up a little. You’re too tense all the time, but I get it, I mean, what...” Her voice died out in the distance as we walked out of the cake shop. People moved and parted like the red sea whenever I was here. They knew who I was, but they didn’t know where I came from. Their knowledge was very limited when it came to Perdita, and they all spoke fluent Latin. No one knew English. As far as they were concerned, English was a dead language. I continued to walk down the main strip with Khales still venting beside me. I snarled at a passerby and bit at her with a grin on my face. She screamed and ran off, ushering her child away from me. I was the monster that lived under her bed.

“B! That was mean,” Khales giggle-snorted, grabbing my hand.

I pulled away from her grip.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, what, so we can fuck, but I can’t hold your hand?”

“We fuck, Khales. We’re friends who fuck, we’re not friends who hold hands.”

She grumbled something under her breath that sounded like “asshole” just as we reached the entry to hell aka Regiis.

That was the last time I took her anywhere. Fuck she was annoying. Yanking open Madison’s door, I gestured for her to get out, but she remained frozen in her seat, her eyes going up to the building in front of us. I couldn’t blame her, the first time I saw Perdita I was all of five years old and it looked the same scary now as it did through the eyes of a five-year-old boy.