In Fury Lies Mischief

The door swings open and Keaton steps inside, laughing like a fucking maniac. “Oh you just couldn’t help yourself, eh, fucker? You had to piss on her.”

I toss my shirt across the couch and smirk. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“So you fucked her.” He raises a brow. “Now what? On to the next?”

I falter slightly, reaching for the milk carton in the fridge. Slamming the door closed, I pop the carton open and wrap my lips around it. I can still smell her pussy on the tips of my fingers, and I have to fight the urge to lick every single bit of her hellish little stench off me. “You’re awfully interested.”

Keaton flips me off, climbing the stairs. “I mean, now that you’ve popped that cherry, maybe you’ve started a fetish with her. I saw the way she responded to you, Kill. That’s a woman hungry for cock now, and not just any dick—Kiznitch dick.” He disappears up the stairs just as the door opens again, but instead of it being Kyrin or King, it’s Delila.

Shit. I’m probably in trouble for the act I pulled during Saskia’s skit and she’s probably in trouble for challenging me during mine.

The fucking menace.

I underestimated her completely.

“Killian.” Delila climbs the stairs, and it’s then that I realize she’s in sweats and her hair is up in a small bun. She’s wearing no makeup, and it looks like she hasn’t had her monthly Botox juice because the bags under her eyes are worsening.

“Everything okay?” I ask warily. I know the answer, though. Delila wouldn’t look like this unless it was bad. She prides herself on her appearance.

“No. I don’t think so.”

I wave her into the kitchen, taking a seat on the table.

“We’re going to need that bottle of whiskey your father passed down to you for this conversation.” She’s talking about the three-hundred-thousand-dollar bottle of scotch that has been passed down through the Cornelii generations. I got it when it was half full, and plan to drink the whole fucking lot of it before I die. My son can have the empty bottle because the shit is lethal.

Making my way to where I keep it, I take down the bottle of aged poison and two glasses, pouring us both a decent amount.

She shoots it back and nods for another.

So I do.

“What’s going on, D?”

She clears her throat, rotating the liquid around in her glass. “We have to cut our Australian tour short and go back to Kiznitch.”

I shuffle in my chair. “What? Why?” I haven’t been back to Kiznitch since I was a kid, and that was for family vacations and such. Every holiday, our families would go back to Kiznitch to celebrate. It apparently appeased our parents and made them feel closer to their parents and so on, since they were the first generation to actually transfer to the US.

She takes a smaller sip this time. “Patience is heading back.”

I lean back in my chair. “Why?”

Another sip. “To do their recruit.”

“Why Kiznitch? Why not go back to Patience?” I ask, finally shooting mine back. She was right. I would need it.

Her eyes meet mine. “Because they want to ruin it. We have to go back, put on our shows, and protect our home turf.”

I pause, thinking over the drama that happened before Christmas with Perse. I knew that it wasn’t resolved with Patience, but I thought it was mainly brushed under the mat until we had finished with the tour.

“You sure this is what you want to do?” I ask skeptically. “It’s going to ruffle some feathers with the crew. A lot of them wait five years to do an international tour.”

She tips her head back, swallowing the rest of her drink. “Yes. I didn’t plan to do a full tour, I just needed us out of the US to see what Patience did. What their next move was. The Fathers are prepared, and they’ll still get their international tour when they were supposed to. I didn’t want to cause panic within. But we have an issue.”

“And what’s that?” I ask, leaning forward.

She drifts in and out of focus. “Someone is feeding information back to Patience. There’s no way they would have known that we were out of the country unless they heard through a rat.”

“Okay.” I lean forward. “Well, this is a big crew, but I’m sure we will find who it is.” I exhale, ru

Delila sobers. “I know, Kill.” Her hands reach for mine. “I know.” She pats them, but I pull away from her, swallowing the rest of my drink. “It’s why I came to tell you in person. You could maybe minimize the blow.”

I don’t answer. I pop the cork off the bottle and swirl it around. “And then what? What happens after Kiznitch?”

She leans back in her chair. “Then we fly back to the US.”

I groan, leaning forward and resting my head on my hands. “Yeah. Alright.”

“Are you sure?” She has the audacity to ask.

I laugh, shuffling back and standing off my chair. “I don’t have a fucking option.” Delila stands, offering me an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Kill. I really am.”

Yeah, sure she fucking is.

Just as Delila leaves, Maya moves around her mother, entering the kitchen. “Wow! What’s going on? Looks serious.”

Delila ignores her and disappears off into the distance.

“Maya, if you’ve come to grind on my balls about Saskia, you can save it.”

Maya pauses, leaning against the threshold of the entry. “It’s not a good idea, Killian. You’re playing with fire. Literally.”

I lick my lips and tuck my bottom one into my mouth. “How so?” I ask, eyebrows raised.

“She’s just—I don’t know. Weird.”

I shake my head. “You’re sounding a lot like a jealous ex-girlfriend, Maya. Please return back to your allocated seating. It’s in the friends’ section.”

Maya sighs. “You’re such a fucking asshole. Can I come in? I promise I’m not grinding your balls, since they probably still smell like Sass.”

I chuckle, filling up Delila’s empty glass and then mine. “Are you telling me that you wouldn’t fuck Sass?”

Maya ponders over my words, picking up the glass and taking Delila’s seat. “I mean…” She shrugs, smiling.

I laugh, swallowing the rest of my drink and putting the glass back on the table. “We’re going back, May.”

She pauses with a mouthful of whiskey. Swallowing, she tilts her head. “Back? Back where?”

I wet my bottom lip. “Back to Kiznitch.”

Her face pales.

Maya was a pain in my ass. She always had me chasing her through forests and into the mazes that were scattered around Kiznitch, Romania.

“Maya!” I called out, swiping the sweat from my forehead. “I’m too fucking tired for this!” I swore, and it felt good. Maya hated when I cussed at her because her father was loose lipped when it came to her and Delila.

“Nah uh!” Maya laughed, her hyena giggle lighting up the dark forest. I stepped forward, the broken branches crunching beneath the soles of my shoes.

“My mom is going to flip her shit if we’re not back soon…” I warned her, moving branches of trees out of my face. I stepped out into a clearing where there was a cabin. It was made from wood with minimal windows and a thick, cobble chimney.

“Should we go in?” Maya whispered, her frantic movements unwilling to still.

I gri