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

“Oh, no one has told me.” I quiet, leaving enough silence for her to speak. Friendship is a gift. An expensive one. You can’t just give it to anyone. There are times when a friend needs someone to talk to, and there are times when they need to be talked to. Right now, I’m guessing she needs someone to talk to.

She takes a swig of her water, upping her speed again. My eyes dart between her and the number on her treadmill. Crazy woman. “They won’t. No one likes to talk about Daemon. He was so special, especially to Tillie and me. I found out he was my brother on that island. He was raised on that island” —she sucks in a breath— “he died on that island. I didn’t know him long, but as soon as I met him, we were inseparable. Tillie had a deep connection to him, too, so I guess that’s why neither of us is in a hurry to get back to Perdita, and aside from that, Tillie has history there. As does Nate.” She sucks in deep breaths and I reach forward to lower her speed, glaring at her when her mouth opens and she’s about to fight me.

“I’m sorry to hear about your brother. I can’t even think about losing Bishop.” I wince at the thought, my eyes tearing up. “Nate has history there?”

Madison rolls her eyes. “I love him. So much. But the boy stuck his dick in places that he should never have stuck it.”

I chuckle, bumping down my speed to a walking pace. There’s no way I can talk and run without passing out, and since I didn’t end up getting much sleep last night, despite Brantley riding me into a coma, I don’t want to test my chances. Even with the bite marks on my inner thighs still fresh. “He loves her, though.”

“Oh, more than anything ever. They fought for their love. They fought hard.”

“Who fought hard?” Tillie interrupts from behind us, biting into a glazed donut while sneering at the gym equipment as she passes. She pauses her chewing. “See, this is why I’m bigger than you with one baby. Because while you’re exercising, I’m eating.”

Madison frowns, gesturing to the other treadmill. “Then exercise if it’ll make you feel better.”

“Fuck no.” Tillie continues eating her donut, taking a seat on the bench. “This is my chance to chill. Got lots of time to be fit, but during pregnancy is not it, and anyway, the boys are kicking us to Perdita.” She places her hands on her lap. “Maybe that’s why I’m stress eating.”

I turn off the treadmill and wipe my face with a towel. “It will be safer with you all there.”

“Mmmm.” Tillie sucks the frosting off the tip of her fingers. “You wait until you meet our replacement who is running the island right now.”

Madison tosses her towel at Tillie. “Stop acting like you would actually want that job.”

Tillie muses over her words and then shrugs. “You’re right. I absolutely wouldn’t.” She looks to me. “Where are your other two girls?”

“They’re down having breakfast, where we should be.” I call out while passing her, making my way down to the kitchen with both pregnant bellies in tow. As soon as I round the kitchen corner, the smell of fried fat hits my nose and puts my head in a spin. My hand flies up to cover my mouth as I dash back down the hallway and into the guest bathroom, flipping open the toilet and expelling everything I ate last night. I swipe my mouth with the back of my hand and flush, knocking the cover down and taking a seat on top. Sweat beads at my temples as my stomach rolls.

“Can he do this, too? Make you sick?” Brantley interrupts from the doorway, filling the space completely.

I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe.” Reaching for the mouthwash that’s on the counter, I take a swig while pumping soap into my palms and scrubbing. “Ivy can go with them to Perdita,” I say, after I’ve spat and rinsed my hands.

Brantley stares at me, and it’s the first time I’ve noticed the slight dark circles under his eyes. With anyone else, it would look exactly what it is. Rough. Drained. But with Brantley, it just makes him look more like a damn vampire. Scary. Deranged. Volatile. Which he is. Usually he’s so assertive and staunch, but since telling him about my visions last night, he’s more on edge.

“Done. But Ophelia stays. We might need her.”

I dry my hands and lean against the sink. “You should go get some sleep.”

“I’m fine.”

I close the space between us, lifting his heavy arm and placing it over my shoulder. “You should go and get some sleep.” Looking up at him hurts my neck.

“Bacon is ready!” Ophelia calls out from the kitchen.