Sancte Diaboli: Part Two (The Elite King's Club 7)

“You look good, brother.” I smirk up at him. “You need to wear suits more often.”

He pinches his collar. “Actually, I can’t seem to find myself out of them lately.” He gives me a once-over. “Who the fuck chose that dress? Madison. It was fucking Madison.” He shakes his head, and as soon as his eyes fly over my shoulder, he tenses. A storm washes over his face, his eyes turning dark and heady. I distract him by tugging on his arm.

“Hey, this is Ophelia and Ivy. They’re my friends.” Bishop finally wills himself to take his eyes off whoever he locked onto behind me, resting on Ophelia and Ivy, who are standing on either side of me in their version of ball gowns. Equally beautiful, but different to mine. Silk.

He smiles tightly at them. “Well, I’ll escort you all in, you know—” His eyes find that spot behind me again and I finally spin around to see who is on the receiving end of Bishop Hayes’ wrath. “—for safety reasons.”

Samael doesn’t flinch. His eyes remain challenging on Bishop. Ballsy, I’d give him that.

Veronica sifts through us all, waving to the back. “In formation.”

I raise a brow at Ophelia, who rolls her eyes. If I don’t mistake it, Ivy chuckles from behind her. We make our way up the grand staircase outside and through the ancient front doors. Bishop leads us down a long hallway before he shoves open another set of doors, this time opening out onto another grand staircase that leads down onto what I’m guessing is the school hall. It’s decorated with fairy lights, with a glistening chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Music is playing softly, while chattering fills the space that music notes do not. We begin walking down the steps and to where everyone is huddled when Samael comes up beside me, his arm hooking with mine.

“You nervous?” he asks, and for a split second I’m glancing down at his arm, confused as to why he’s suddenly in my space.

I answer him instead. “I had a lot of champagne.”

He laughs, and the sound alone makes me ease a little. Maybe he’s just doing it to distract me. For that I am thankful. “A little too much, maybe?”

I glance up and him, just as we hit the main ground. “Maybe.”

“Oh my God!” Two loud voices pinch through my thoughts, and I finally pull away from Samael and fling myself at both Madison and Tillie, but not just Madison and Tillie, Tatum, too. She hangs back behind them, a sheepish smile on her face.

I give her a small wave while both of the closest girls I’ve ever called my own wrap me in a ball with all of their limbs.

“Saint! Goodness, girl. Stay classy…” Veronica moves away from us and disappears to where a group of men are huddled around in a circle.

“Fuck her,” Madison says, both finally unlatching from me. They look me up and down. Madison whistles. “Damn. See, I knew this was it. This was the dress.” What does she mean the dress?

“What?” Tillie slaps her. “This was my idea for our dresses!”

I pause when I take theirs in. “We’re all in white!”

They look at me, and that annoying silence I’ve come to know when they’re not telling me something spills between us. Madison’s eyes are large, and Tillie’s batting her lashes. My smile is still on my face, because I haven’t caught whatever they’re hiding. “Anyway…” I say when they’re still being weird. “Meet Ivy and Ophelia! They’re good women.” Madison and Tillie start small talk with Ivy and O as I step around their gowns, both so similar to mine it’s uncanny, only different styles.

“I can’t believe they’ve had no alcohol,” I say to Tate, swiping a glass of whiskey as a server passes by. Tate grabs one, too.

“Oh, I know. Trust me.” She takes a long gulp. “I really know.”

I sip on mine, wincing when the strength lights my lips on fire. “How have you been?”

Her lips stretch wide, her cheeks glowing. Tatum is very pretty. She holds a classical type of beauty. “Really good. I’m here with Spyder.”

“I figured,” I said, another sip.

“So!” Madison grabs for me. “I know you’re—”

“—there you are,” Samael says smoothly, scooping his arm around my shoulder.

Everyone’s eyes fall to where his arm is, mine included.

“Here I am…” I say slowly, and if anyone knew me, they’d hear the perplexity in my tone.

Samael squeezes my arm, obviously ignoring the energy I’m throwing out to him. “I think Veronica wants you.”

Tillie steps forward, but Madison’s hand comes out to stop her.

Madison smiles sweetly at me. “We’re right here. Not going anywhere if you need us.”

I cast a glance over my shoulder at my girl gang as I’m walking away. Madison, Tillie, Ophelia, Ivy, and hell, even Tate looked about ready to throw down. I recognized when it happened. I felt the shift in the room. The charge from our bodies recognizing each other. Everything moved in slow motion, and I didn’t know if it was because I was about to pass out, or if it was because I couldn’t move my limbs. I tilt my head up, my lips parting and ready to ask Sam what Veronica wants, but everything freezes when my eyes land on him. He stares at me from across the room, leaden and cold. His lashes somehow look darker, his eyes almost the same shade as the ebony suit he’s wearing, and his hair, unlike Bishop’s, is ruffled on the top of his head. His skin is paler than usual, his cheekbones sharper, and even his nose seems straighter. Maybe it’s just everything is tightened, including my awareness to him, or maybe it’s because we have never gone this long without seeing each other, or maybe it’s because we no longer can have each other. Something tells me it’s a heady combination of both.