Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 150546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 753(@200wpm)___ 602(@250wpm)___ 502(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 150546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 753(@200wpm)___ 602(@250wpm)___ 502(@300wpm)
Priest’s finger works his upper lip. “Sometimes. We sometimes set them free. This is a new thing after reaching a compromise. I don’t give a shit about their lives, but War does, so we agreed that we’d eighty-six the parent who sent them in instead. How it unfolds, really just depends on, I don’t know," his eyes darken, “my mood.”
It’s painfully obvious how quiet Halen is.
“What organization or orders?” Stella’s head jerks back. “We don’t fuck with anyone else.”
“Midnight Mayhem.” I cut her off without addressing her. “You’re right, we don’t fuck with any other societies or orders, but these young people are not one of us. They can go wherever, and since Midnight Mayhem have now split into four different countries to run four styles of… acts,” I pause when the last word leaves my mouth because we all know they’re anything but, “it’s made it easier for us to distribute out the human payments. Again, we’ve only done this a few times now. It could change.”
With the risk of triggering him, I push through Priest’s earlier confession. “Or there are times when the recruits come from people who are connected to the world through a lesser family line, but want a closer title. They come to us as they are—” The bounce of my knee intensifies as I tap my Zippo against my thigh. “—and they leave us in a box, because none of us want a fucking groupie as a wife. Except maybe Aire. Pretty sure he’d hit.”
Halen’s eyes slant on mine as the Zippo snaps closed.
“You mean you groom them?” Her tone is as flat as the expression on her face.
I shrug, leaning back in my chair and kicking out my leg. My gaze flickers down to her wrist, before traveling back to her face. “Sure, if that’s how you want to put it.”
“Then what?” Stella pipes up, and if I know Stella, which I do, I’d say she is way too happy with this. “This is kind of… hot.”
Vaden runs his hand through his hair. Stella stresses him right the fuck out. Unlike Priest, he has emotions. He shields them from most, but he has them. Not to be confused with soft, because he’d still take your head off.
He blows out a breath, his raven hair a mess and his cheeks pinched pink. “Stella. We don’t bring home strays. They’re for play, not to stay.”
River leans back, resting her head against the top of her chair. “This is fucked up. Even for us.”
Vaden continues. “As you may have noticed, Perdita isn’t exactly as it was when our parents were around. The new Katsia has run the island for a few years now, and other than the odd rogue Lost Boy, there have been no other issues.” I know what he’s doing. Implying that we can step in and tear the crown from her head.
We shouldn’t.
“Vaden’s right. We could kick the bitch if we ever wanted to, but leaving Perdita to draw out its own infections has always been the best way to go. The island has a way of choosing its residents. We have to respect that.”
Halen ignores me. “We all know Perdita is purgatory for everyone who passes through, and it has nothing to do with the island choosing. It’s us who does.”
“Maybe so,” Priest murmurs. “But we ain’t changing that right now. Whether you like it or not, this is how it’s going to stay. She will stay.” Priest’s subtlety has never been his strong suit, and the smack he just landed on Halen to remind her to pull her head in where Katsia is concerned is proof of that.
Halen shrugs, not bothering to hide her cavalier. “You can have your toys. That’s not what this is about.” When Halen is annoyed, her tongue turns into a fucking weapon. I know her. Katsia isn’t what bothers her.
My thumb grazes the curve of my bottom lip. “I can share them if you want.”
“No thanks.” She reaches for the glass in front of her, swirling liquid around the edge. “And you already know everything about what we’ve been doing. Parties, jumping city to city to get laid, racing, you know—” No one says a word as she pauses.
Her hand rests on her bracelet to adjust the chain. “—the usual. I’m tired. I’m going to head to bed.” Without hesitation, she stands and makes her way to Priest, kissing him on the top of his head.
His jaw tenses but he lets it happen. He always does. In small doses, because she doesn’t do it often.
She throws up deuces before the elevator closes on her.
There’s no point censoring around the girls, so my eyes find Priest. “She’s hiding something.”
His finger beats a tune against the table, his metal ring clattering on contact. “Obvious. Knowing her, she’s not going to come clean. Not until she wants to. And as we all know, if you pull, Halen doesn’t pull back.” His pupils dilate. “She cuts the fucking line.”