Sancte Diaboli

Brantley

There are a lot of things that people know, or assume they know about The Elite Kings, and then there are the things that truly never leave the covenant. Things like Hector having enough power to initiate the damn Purge if he wanted. He doesn’t, but he has come close. Many fucking times. When he’s trigger-happy, we need to clean house and make sure he doesn’t. Which is ironic because it’s the exact reason why he hasn’t handed the gavel over to Bishop yet, because he thinks Bishop is volatile. Which he is.

I kick my leg up against the conference table. The fucking third meeting he has called in the past three days.

“These people are dangerous. I’ve never said that before, but these ones are.”

“What makes them so dangerous?” I challenge, clenching my jaw.

I’ve known that Hector was her dad since the second she came into my house. The anger I feel inside of me is aimed at him for abandoning her. In hindsight, I get it. At the time, no Swans could exist. But now, he still hasn’t asked me about her, and that pisses me right the fuck off. I slam down any and all thoughts about Saint because the mere mention of her has my fingers flexing and my teeth throbbing to sink back into her soft flesh. Fuck. My cock swells against the zipper of my jeans and I shuffle, turning to the side to get comfortable. She took it better than I would have ever imagined. Not just the sex, but the blood play. I had every intention of not fucking her again, but now she has my interest. As if she fucking lost it all those years ago. I’m invested in her now on a sexual level, though. I won’t lie, there have been times where I’d think about those i

“The fact that they are our oldest allies. They’ve studied how we work, what we do. We can’t underestimate them.”

“Maybe,” Nate says, adding in. “But they don’t have what we have, and that’s money and power.”

“Sometimes you don’t need those two things to get what you need done.” Hector’s eyes come to mine. “Sometimes all you need is the burn to destroy something.”

“That bad, huh?” Eli asks, lighting a cigarette and blowing out smoke. We arrived at the EKC headquarters this morning, which is around a two-hour drive from the cabin. It’s right smack in the middle of New York City. Bishop has been living in the penthouse since Madison left. The King Hotel. Just one of the many real estate dippings we all have. I prefer mine in Europe.

“And how is Perdita?” I ask the question that no one seems to care about. Especially Nate.

Raguel, Eli’s dad, rests his elbows on his knees, where he’s seated on the ledge of the window. “It’s fine. The Peacemaker is doing his stage job and the little Adamantem seems to be natural with leading, though she’s becoming a little distracted. They’ve had a few run-ins with a couple of The Lost Boys who are not warming up to her particular style of sovereignty, but I’m sure it will work out.”

“Good,” I say, bringing my eyes to Hector. “I don’t want to put another Stuprum on that island, if you feel me.”

Hector’s eyes bore into mine. I read the questions I know he wants to ask. “She’s a Hayes before she’s a Vitiosis or a Stuprum.”

“Eh, wrong,” I say, stretching my leg out in front of me. Bishop kicks my foot in an attempt to shut me up, but it doesn’t work. “She’s a Vitiosis before she’s anything else.”

“A Hayes by blood,” Hector adds, and I can’t help it.

The corner of my mouth curves, flashing my straight teeth. “Sure about that?” He won’t catch my meaning because he doesn’t know me, but I don’t give a fuck.

“You fucked her?” Bishop jumps up from his chair, but my eyes are still on Hector. Bishop, on the other hand, knows me. “Fucker!” Bishop kicks my leg, and I finally release the hold I have on Hector and bring them to my a

“What gave it away…”

Nate chuckles. “Oh fuck…”

Raguel sighs.

I smirk up at Bishop. “B, I got your back, but if you don’t back the fuck up from Saint, then we’re going to have problems. You are in her life because I allowed it. She has been under my protection since she was two years old. I ain’t go

Bishop leans down, his hands on either side of my chair and his snarl so far deep on his mouth that if I wasn’t me, I’d probably be shaking in my boots. Most men would piss their pants at how he’s glaring at me, but I remain passive. Not-fucking-bothered.

I flick my tongue at him. “Wa

Bishop’s jaw clenches, and I’m distracted when I notice his eyes sunken around the edges. It snaps me back to the present, bringing my mind back to an even level. He’s always on edge for a reason, and it ain’t my job as a best friend to make more issues for him, and aside from that, I am glad he has taken to Saint the way he has. This way we can share the load. Distribute it evenly.

“Fuck.” I shake my head, rubbing my eyes with the backs of my hands. “Go sit down, B.” His head hangs between his shoulders in defeat, before he pushes away and falls back onto his chair, but not before swiping the bottle of whiskey on the office table and flicking off the lid. He brings it to his mouth, and I watch as every single person in the room glares at him with worried eyes.

I reach over and confiscate the bottle out of his grip, just to save the lecture from Hector. “Why did you call this meeting?”

Hector leans back in his chair, shaking his head at his son. “I know you’re all busy tonight and I personally can’t wait to see what you have pla

Bishop waves his hand. “You got it. I know my priorities. So a couple people might die through my transition, it doesn’t matter.”

“Jesus fuck. Someone call Madison already…” Hunter grumbles under his breath. I think we’re all glad Bishop doesn’t hear.

Hector continues. “I need you on track.”

“I just ran one a few nights ago. Again?” I say, though my attention never wavers from Bishop.

Hector nods. “Two gangs aren’t playing house. You need to reinforce the rules that were put in place with their leaders. I’ve set up a meet and will send you the address. They will be armed, and no doubt they’ll be angry. Just be careful.”

“Always am,” I murmur. I tilt my head at Nate. “Ready?”

Nate smirks at me. “Let’s. Make it. Rain.”

He was older than me. Maybe by five years. He sat at the edge of the bed, naked. His shoulders rose and fell with each breath. His hair was long, tied to the nape of his neck. Maybe he was even older than that. I didn’t understand why he was here. There was never anyone far from my age. I had to think of Saint. I had to keep her safe. I would do what I had to do.

“Your father sent me,” was all he said, and I knew right then and there he may have been even older. He turned his head over his shoulder, and I got the first look at his profile. His brows were blond, his beard too. Early twenties, maybe? A fucking lot older than I initially thought he was.