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

I stand and glance between the two of them, before taking the step I knew I would take.

Brantley

Dad was in his office, talking with Uncle Hector. Usually when they were in there, I didn’t go in. All their talk of Elite Kings’ business wasn’t a place for me right now. At least not yet. I pushed my way through the hallway anyway, desperate to hear whatever the fuck it was they were talking about.

“That girl will be in danger all her life,” Hector said, placing a cigar in his mouth.

“Mmm,” my father mused. “I’m sure Brantley will make sure she’s safe.”

“And his mother?” Hector probed. “What does he know of her?”

“The truth. That she’s dead.” His answer was clipped and burned with a bitterness that couldn’t go unnoticed.

I paused, reaching for my phone in my pocket.

“Thank Christ for that.”

I stepped backward and dialed the number on my phone, stepping out to the back patio and rounding the pool. I needed to put a safe distance between my father and me if I wanted to have enough time to end this conversation.

“Yes?” Her voice broke through softly and I relaxed.

“How did you pull off your fake death?”

She didn’t answer, allowing seconds to pass between us before finally whispering, “Because he’s evil and I had enough need to stay alive. You give someone enough reason to do something, and they make it possible. I stayed low, paid off the right people.” I swallowed the saliva that was in my throat. “You trust me, you don’t ever trust him, Brantley. You know what he does to you. The kind of acts he makes you do to all those girls, too. What kind of man would do that?”

“I know.” I took a seat on a lawn chair, running my fingers through my hair. I could already feel the frustration and anger bubbling beneath my skin. I trusted her more than my father, and painfully close to how I trusted my brothers. From the first ever phone call I got from her, to now, she has done nothing but look out for Saint and help me with Lucan.

I heard her shuffle in the background. “Never tell him that I’m alive, Brantley. Because when you need me, I won’t be here. When she needs me, I will no longer be here.” She paused. “And she will need me.” I hung up and tossed the phone on the chair. I already knew Saint held the curse, so I knew Veronica was right. Eventually, she’s going to need the guidance of my mother.

Hector sits on the sofa in the corner of my sitting room. I want to push away the thoughts of what door Saint decided to go into and focus on Hector and why he’s here, but it is all I can think about.

“What is it you want, Hector? Or are you here to beg me not to kill you one day?” I walk further into the sitting room with a bottle of water up against my mouth. I fall down on the sofa opposite him, turning the fireplace on with a simple push of a button. I run my fingers over my abs.

His eyes fall. “Do any of you ever wear shirts?”

“I’m in my home. You’re lucky I’m wearing anything at all.”

Hector chuckles, throwing his leg over his knee. “I heard your house is rather full as of late. With Bailey and Abel always around, and then the two new witches you’ve come to acquire.”

“What can I say?” I bare my teeth. “I like collecting weird shit.”

Hector leans forward in his chair, the flames from the fire burning against his cheek. “Do you understand why I was taking her to Perdita now? Why I defied the plan during the ceremony to get her away from Veronica?”

I think over his intentions. His always intentions, not just his now intentions. In Hector’s own way, I do see why he was taking her to Perdita, now that I know my judgment of my mother was severely wrong. She had dug her nails deep inside my head from a young boy and groomed me to trust her. “What I don’t understand is why. Why would she go through all of this for Saint?”

“That’s something I don’t know, son. Sorry.” I stand from my chair and make my way to the alcohol cabinet. “The good thing is, no one has ever outrun us before, so we should be able to find her.”

I laugh into my glass, sipping on the burning liquid. “Something tells me she’s going to be the Katerina Petrova of our world.” I swirl the liquid in my glass and keep my eyes on the fire. “Do you know what her gifts are?”

Hector flexes his neck. “I do not, but I know she doesn’t just hold one, but two. She has never disclosed to anyone what they are.”