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

“You know what, Katsia, cut the bullshit. Why was Tillie here?”

“Oh,” Katsia waved her hand casually. “Well, she was pregnant, of course.”

I sucked in a breath. My head pounded and colorful little dots danced in my bleak vision. I felt Nate’s hand still in my grip. He let me go and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “What?” The depth of his tone was enough to put the fear of the Lord into the devil.

Tate stood from the corner of my eye and walk to the window. Bishop’s leg pressed against mine roughly and I could hear the shuffling of a couple of the Kings who were standing behind me.

“Suddenly, shit makes sense,” Jase mumbled, rubbing the scruff on his jaw.

Tillie swiped away the tears that were streaming down her face. “Was being the correct word there.”

I stilled.

Bishop’s leg stopped flat, and Nate shot up off the couch. An armored guard stepped forward, grabbing Nate’s arm. “What do you mean was.”

Katsia’s eyes flashed to Tillie, and then to Nate. For once, I saw fear flash through them briefly. “You know the rules, Nathan.”

“Fuck you, tell me right now what the fuck is going on or I’ll snap all your guards’ necks and then feed them to you through a fucking straw!”

Katsia swallowed, shot the rest of her drink back and stood. “She couldn’t exist.”

I buried my face in my hands as realization snuck in. “What?” I whispered to myself, and then my hand came to Tillie’s. I was going to be strong for her. I didn’t know what she had been through and I don’t know why, but I didn’t care. She was my best friend and no matter what, I would stand by her. She sniffed, looked at me, and then squeezed her fingers with mine.

“I’m not walking out of this place without answers,” I whispered to her, squeezing her fingers.

“Did you kill my kid, Katsia?” Nate asked, stepping closer to her.

Katsia laughed. “Oh, wait, what made you think it was your kid?”

“And the plot thickens,” Hunter grumbled, standing from the couch to check on Tatum.

“Because I fucking know, Katsia, quit the fucking games. I’ll give you ten seconds.”

Katsia snickered. “You give her too much credit.”

“Nine.”

Bishop stood, walking beside Nate. Bishop tilted his head, pulled a smoke out of his pocket and lit it up. “Eight.” He blew out a cloud of smoke.

“Jesus Christ,” I whispered. “There’s going to be a war.” I could smell the heavy scent of spilled blood already.

Tillie’s hand squeezed mine. I looked at her. She shook her head.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Nate! The girl had to be taken care of. You know the rules! We can’t have another” —Katsia paused just as I caught her glaring at me— “mistake out in the open.”

“Fuck you.” I flipped her off.

Bishop took another drag of his smoke, biting down on it. “Six.”

“What?” Katsia’s eyes flew between him and Nate. “I answered!”

“Yeah, but you see, we had a deal.” That was Bishop.

“The deal went out the window when she was born a swan,” Katsia retorted.

Bishop shook his head, taking the smoke out of his mouth. “The deal was that when the baby was born, I would say what happens—not you. You think you can run around and act boss bitch, Katsia? You forgot one thing.” Bishop threw the smoke onto the beautiful marble floor and squashed it with his dirty boot. “I’m the fucking boss around here.” Then Bishop’s elbow flew out to the guard beside him, knocking him onto the floor. Nate squeezed the other guard’s head and slammed it into his knees. Suddenly there was a swim of violent chaos lurking at my feet.

“We need to go!” Tillie pulled me up, but I yanked at her hand.

“No! I can’t leave them!”

“They’ll be fine, Mads, we need to go. Now.” Her eyes searched mine pleadingly like a silent conversation was being passed. Now, Madison.

Tatum came up behind Tillie. “Let’s go with her and let the boys finish the job here.”

My eyes went to Bishop just as his fingers dived into one of the guard’s eye sockets and he ripped out the balls of mush. Jesus. I watched in fascination as he then slid his blackout from his back pocket and slit it across his throat. Blood sprayed every, dancing in the thick breath of the Reaper.

I scrunched my eyes closed and nodded.

“Madison! Go with Tillie!” Bishop ordered. “Now!”

“Okay!” I snapped back at him, a jolt of shock rippling through me. My legs began following her out of the sitting room of carnage with Tate close behind me.

Tillie looked from left to right, checking the corridor, and then grabbed my arm. “Quick, we don’t have long.”

“Don’t have long for what, Tillie?”

I was answered with silence as she continued to jog down the hallway. We passed artwork knotted in serpentine strokes brushed onto blank canvases. We were all born as a blank canvas, perfectly untouched. Then life happens, and the more you age, the more paint you need. In the end, some of us would escape with our morals, leaving beautiful paint strokes from a tractable life behind on our canvas. But others, like me, will be ending with brushstrokes far too acrimonious to warrant us a ticket through the golden gates of whatever the fuck was waiting on the other side. No matter how unpleasant our canvas may be at the end, all that mattered was who was willing to gape appreciatively at us. My eyes caught a cabinet nailed to the wall. Quickly, I pulled it open and smiled when I saw it was lined with shotguns. Snagging the AR15, I checked the rounds and then quickly caught up to Tatum. Tillie pushed open a door at the end of the hallway and disappeared inside. I followed behind her and then Tatum, who I was hoping wouldn’t be too affected by not only Tillie being here but the fact that she had a kid with Nate. My head was spinning from the overload of information that it had collected over the past few minutes. I couldn’t dwell on it too much right now—couldn’t decipher my feelings in the middle of a war, but I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. About everything. All I knew was that I needed to follow Tillie. There was obviously something important that she needed to tell me or show me. She flicked the light on and I squinted from the influx of the brightness. Shading my eyes with my hand, I gazed around the room. It was small. No bed, a pile of boxes to the side. It smelled of dust mite corpses that had suffocated horrific deaths by the contained space and lack of oxygen. That’s when I saw hands clenched around the opening of a window.