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

“Bishop, I—”

He shakes his head, his finger pressed to her lips to hush her. “Nah uh, don’t go soft on me now. You know fighting with you gets my dick hard.” Gross. “And you’re about to get it real hard tonight…”

“Okay, enough…” I whisper. “Please.” My stomach rolls, my hand covering my mouth.

Bishop chuckles, mouthing sorry to me before continuing, “In short, we go up, sign, say the basic vows, and then, Saint, you’re going to play a song—” I blink, bringing my eyes to Bishop. He continues, “any song on the piano. The girls will stay near you.” I was frantically searching my mind for a song that I didn’t realize he was now directly in front of me, a finger on my cheek, turning my face to his. “Ophelia and Ivy are your friends?”

I nod.

His pupils dilate, and that’s when I know the wedding tonight isn’t just for us, or for making a statement. It’s a distraction. I just have to figure out whether it’s a distraction for us or for someone else. “Anyone else?” His jaw is set, unmoving. He leans down. “You know what I’m asking you.”

I swallow. “Please. Just keep it to those who deserve it and do not touch the girls.”

Bishop leans back, searching my face. “Not even Frankie?”

I shake my head. “Bishop, you know me. Please…”

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, finally dropping his finger from my cheek.

“Ah, what’s happening?” O steps beside me as the lights turn soft around us.

I exhale, squeezing her hand with mine. “Revenge.”

Ophelia shuffles on her feet, and just when I think she’s going to fight it, she crosses her arms. “She deserves it, Saint.” I know she does. But there’s a big question that is still hovering over my head. Who has been pulling me under all this time?

I lean into O. “Is there a chance that whoever has been giving me these visions can do it without touching me?”

“What are you talking about?” Brantley asks, his eyes narrowed on me.

How is he listening? “Nothing.” I almost hold my breath while I wait to see if he’s going to fight me on not elaborating or let it go.

Bishop comes back from answering his phone, his face tense as Hector takes center stage. He shoves his phone into his suit jacket, his eyes going between O, Ivy, and me. “They’ve disappeared. Fuck.” His shoulders rise and fall as he squeezes the top of a chair. His head lifts. “Lucky for us, we specialize in finding people who want to run away—” He slowly drags his eyes to Madison, and the look he passes her almost makes me cower. God! He must have been awful to her when they first met. Too bad he’s in love with her now.

Madison flips him off. “Not fast enough, though, huh?”

Bishop glances between Brantley and Nate, shaking his head as Brantley bares his teeth, a feral hiss escaping him. He turns and throws back the rest of the whiskey that was in his glass but remains silent.

Bishop begins. “This wedding is an elopement. The people who are here right now are direct lineage to The Elite Kings or work very closely with us. This is how it’s going to go. The six of us will be on the stage, we will exchange vows, and then, Saint, again, you’ll play a song on the piano. The girls will follow you and watch as you play, but Ophelia and Ivy don’t need to be up there with you anymore.” I know I should ask why that is. I have to figure out if they’re trying to distract us or someone else.

Hector interrupts, tapping a mic at center stage. A single light beams on him and the crowd silences. There has to still be around fifty people here.

Hector glances out. “I know it has been, well—” he finds Scarlet, who is sitting near the front of the stage, “—a long time since we’ve had this happen, but the truth is, tonight is a double-edged event.” Hector clears his throat, gesturing toward us. Another light shines down on us. “It’s a triple marriage ceremony. The three Kings are here to unite their other halves within themselves, and this world.” Bishop begins walking with Madison gripped around his arm. Then Nate and Tillie.

I stare at Brantley beside me, hooking my arm in his. My fingers look minuscule clenched around his bicep. My heart races again and sweat beads down the back of my neck. My head throbs and people around me start disappearing in and out.

“What’s wrong?” Brantley whispers to the side while we continue to walk to the front stage.

“I don’t know,” I answer under my breath. Reaching the stage, I stand beside Tillie and opposite Brantley. He continues to watch me with worried eyes as I turn over my shoulder, relieved to find Ophelia and Ivy behind me, watching with worried eyes. Something is happening.