In Fury Lies Mischief Read online Amo Jones (Midnight Mayhem #2)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Dark, Erotic, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Midnight Mayhem Series by Amo Jones
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Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104753 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
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We practice. I choose my song.

And the day is almost over with the sun setting by the time I make my way back to my bus.

“Sass!” Ash comes running over to me, a smile on her face. “Hey, I just want you to know that you’re going to be amazing tonight. I’ll be right there if you need me, but I got to say…” She pauses. “You’re a natural. What did you say your last name was again?”

“Thanks, Ash, and it’s Royal. Nothing of importance.”

“Oh,” Ash says, her smile faltering. “I’ve not known a Kiznitch family with that last name.” She tilts her head, her focus drifting off, and then she comes back to me. “Anyway, good luck!”

The show has started, with the Angels and Demons opening. Delila agreed to shuffle around the acts and have me fire bending with the dragon staff first since it does take a bit out of me and I still need to do my duet dance with Kenan and our crew performance, not to mention the final act, which I don’t completely partake in, but do enough to be considered something… so she has put my biggest scene first, and then that gives me enough of a break between acts.

“Great,” Callan snaps from beside me. Her mirror cubicle is right beside mine. Everyone rushing around behind me filters into white noise as I glare at her.

“What, Callan?”

She runs the bright red lipstick over her lips. “So now the whole show moves for you.”

“Callan,” Kenan warns, his tone forceful.

“That wasn’t my idea,” I tell her, fluffing my hair up farther and fixing my horns. My eyes are smudged in black, my makeup heavy. I’m wearing the same outfit with the snake on my leg too. I pet-named him Cal. I guess you can think where I got that from.

“So what!” she snaps. “It’s not fair.”

“Saskia, you’re up,” Kyrin says from behind me, opening the back curtain.

I drag my attention away from her and stand, turning to face him.

He stills, his eyes dropping down my body. He doesn’t say a word, but he doesn’t have to. The way his gaze drags up and down my body is loud enough for me to feel violated.

The curtain opens wider and Keaton steps through, but when he notices me, he falters. “What—wh?”

“Wipe your mouth, brother. You’ve got some drool coming out of your mouth,” Kyrin growls.

“Oh I’m going out to watch this.” Keaton smirks just as Perse slides in from behind him and pulls me into a hug, kissing me on the cheek. “You’re going to do amazing. Go light some fires.”

I step onto the stage, the curtain still closed. The dragon staff I know awaits on the other side and I clutch the fire sword in my hand.

“Tonight, we’re excited to showcase one of our newest girls who has an obsession with fire… ladies and gentlemen… meet, our very own Hellhound…” I flick open my Zippo and light the tip of the sword just as the curtains open.

The entry music starts playing as I swing the sword around through the dark, creating a loop of fire in the air. I lean down and light up each ball on the dragon staff. The crowd silences as I turn to find Killian perched on a chair on the stage, a spotlight on him. I’m thrown off. What the fuck is he doing there?

He leans forward, his clown made-up face coming into view and his abs tensing with the movement. Motherfucker. He curls his finger with a smirk, pointing to the sword.

I make my way toward him and hand him the sword as the crowd—me included—gasps when he opens his mouth and slowly swallows the sword down his throat, cutting off the flame and the spotlight at the same time. The audience screams in shock—along with me internally—as I make my way back and pick up the dragon staff. “Toxicity” from System of a Down starts playing as I roll the staff over my back, arching forward and grabbing it again, swirling it around my body with the tune of the guitar. As the verse comes back in and the song slows back down, I flick it around my body again, rolling it over my arms and across my neck. Flicking it forward, I run it over one arm and pick it up again. The crowd loses their minds, adding fuel to my adrenaline. The flames lick over my skin as I get lost in the song and performance. Coming to the end, I arch backward in bridge from standing position while twirling the staff with my right hand and reaching backward with my left hand until I’m completely arched with one hand on the ground and the other twirling the staff.

The audience goes crazy again and I use that as fuel. When the beat speeds up, so does my spinning of the staff. Slowly, I lift one leg off the ground and flick it into the air as I place the staff onto my bare belly, rolling it backward over my face and I quickly press my other hand to the ground and flip backward, back to standing, with the staff now safely secured back in my hand. The song cuts. My breathing deepens. Everything is silent and I stand nervously, thinking I had done something wrong. Just as I’m about to dart off the stage, people roar off their seats, clapping and shouting, and whistling. My breathing is manic, my smile wide. I fucking did it! The curtain closes and I turn around, crashing right into Killian’s chest.


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