Sancte Diaboli: Part Two (The Elite King's Club 7)
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Silence, then Bailey laughed so loud that I glared at her. She snatched the bottle out of my grip. “I’m not even sorry, but that girl is not your sister. I don’t care what bullshit you’re being told.”
“Her visions.” I snatched the bottle back from her. “Are never false.”
She took it back, narrowing her eyes on me. “I didn’t say her vision was false. I’m saying that maybe it’s being manipulated. And how do you know that evil witch isn’t lying?”
“I just know.”
Bailey sighed, kicking her feet to rest on the coffee table. “I call bullshit. That woman has been planning this all along.”
“You’re too paranoid.”
Bailey glared at me. “Am I? Or am I right?”
I hate I never got the chance to tell the annoying little shit that I’d always protect her. I hate she died thinking that I couldn’t stand her, because I actually could. I wouldn’t have let her fucking live with me otherwise.
“How’s Abel?” I ask Bishop, grabbing the AK that’s lying on the table and loading up.
Bishop’s face tightens. “Not good. He was already fragile. They were fragile.”
“You don’t say,” I mutter, flicking the knife up and putting it into the holster on my jeans. “I heard a couple of their fights.”
“They were toxic. Abel isn’t built like all of us. Bailey gave him something he could call his own, but it was Bailey, so no one could own her.” I flinch at those words, because nothing could be truer. She was a Vitiosis through and through. “She was excited for the twins, and for Tillie’s baby.”
“Would have been the most annoying aunt ever.” I chuckle, taking a seat at the dining table. Nate walks through, running his hand over his face. We had already told him the news after Spyder dragged his ass out of Tillie. He’s fine, Tillie not so much. “Where are the girls?”
“Upstairs,” Nate says, his throat bobbing when he swallows. He leans over and clutches the edge of his chair. “Getting real sick of people fucking dying.”
“It’s inevitable in our world.” I wait until he slowly brings his eyes up to mine. “One day, we’re all going to fucking die. We just have to make sure we die before the girls.”
Nate chuckles, pushing off the chair and reaching for a shotgun. “And make sure we leave a fucking ruthless army of legacies behind.”
My face scrunches. “Fuck no. I’ll leave that to you two.”
Nate snickers and Bishop laughs. He points at me with the tip of his pistol. “If you so much as think you won’t be getting her pregnant, then fuck, I don’t know you at all.”
“I don’t want fucking kids, so I’ll make very sure that doesn’t happen.”
Bishop rolls his eyes and Nate shrugs. “Well, you can be the moody uncle that kills all of their dates.”
I shiver at the thought.
“Hey.” Bishop leans over his shoulder and I follow his eyesight to Saint, whose eyes are on me. “You all right?”
She looks pale. More than usual. I tilt my head. “What’s wrong?” Stupid question. She just found out Bailey is dead and she thinks it’s because of her.
Slowly, she shakes her head, a smile on her lips, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Nothing. I was just about to tell you that Valentina is here.”
“Do what you must,” Valentina says, walking back and forth in the kitchen. She’s wearing a long gown that you can one-hundred percent see-through, a metal crown twisted on the top of her head, and her long ash blonde hair is twisted in a braid at the nape of her neck.
“Why didn’t you tell us that The Lost Boys had been rebelling?” Bishop asks, rolling a cigar between his fingers.
“Because!” Her hands fly up in defense. She sighs, dropping onto the single sofa in the corner of the room. “You would see that I’m having trouble and might think I’m incompetent.”
Nate watches her carefully, though he doesn’t bother to take note of her obvious fucking display of nipples through her gown. I do. I notice them, but they do nothing for me. She never has. “You still should have told us, Valentina. We could have put a stop to it earlier rather than later.”
“I know.” Her shoulders sag, holding his stare. “I am sorry, Nathanial.”
I shuffle in my chair. No one calls him by his full name. She’s lucky Tillie didn’t hear it and go all your kingdom, my king on her again. Fucking cavewoman.
“Well, I don’t give a fuck about any of this. This is your area,” I say to Nate. “And don’t you dare look at Saint. This island is yours and Tillie’s responsibility. Handle it.” I stand from my chair, cocking my gun.
Bishop glances up at me. “Where the fuck are you going?”
“I’m not waiting anymore. Because this is my responsibility.”
“We all carry this,” Bishop corrects me, twisting his neck until it cracks.