In Fury Lies Mischief

Remember when you could change your ringtone to some remixed Jay-Z and Linkin Park song? Well, fuck, wish I still had that option because “Reflection” (iPhone’s default ringtone) is banging on my rage this morning. I swipe it from the bedside table and hit answer.

“You better be dead, Maya.”

“Unfortunately, I’m not. But you might be, because you’re late and Delila isn’t in a good mood today.” Maya is my a

I groan, swiping my eyes. “Fuck her. She doesn’t run my ship.”

“Kill? Get in here now.” Delila is also Maya’s mom, but their relationship is not like your average. Putting it lightly.

“Fine!” I hang up and make my way out of bed, growling at the onslaught of light that’s beaming through my windows. “Fuck.” I must have forgotten to close them last night after Callan left, or rather, I kicked her ass out.

After a quick shower, I throw on some grey sweats and Adidas sneakers, tossing a clean white Tommy Hilfiger shirt over my shoulder. I don’t know what Delila’s issue is, it’s not like we can train on the triple wheel of death, which is the stunt she’s always grinding our ass to train. I get it, it’s dangerous and requires practice, but we’ve all been riding on those wheels since we were old enough to ride.

I open the doors that lead to the first level auditorium, a smoke hanging from my mouth and a coffee in hand. “Sorry I’m late, didn’t realize I had to fucking be here,” I mutter, as everyone turns to face me.

I notice it’s just us. Midnight, the Six Demons and Seven Angels, and whatever it is that Perse called her little crew. And Delila, of course. None of the crew is here.

I mindlessly find Sass, who is looking right through me, as if I don’t exist. She’s fucking good at that. I blow her a kiss before sliding in beside Keaton. She flinches, turning away from me. Don’t know what the fuck is up with her or what her problem with me is. When I first saw her, naturally, I wanted her. The girl is a walking younger version of Adriana Lima—only hotter, because she has this whole Megan Fox thing going on too. But for some fucked up reason, she has withdrawn from me. She hasn’t spoken one word to me, yet she and Keaton seem to have some fucking twisted vibe going on.

Motherfucker. It’s weird for Keaton, and when I say vibe, I mean he doesn’t exactly mind her company. Usually, he hates everyone. He doesn’t like to be around anyone but us, but apparently, Saskia has slowly made her way into his books. I ain’t buying it and I still have money on the fact that Perse has made him soft.

I know he hasn’t fucked her. In fact, I know that no one has touched Saskia Royal for the time that she has been here. She barely speaks, keeps to herself, and only cultivates in her circle, which is mainly Perse, Callan, and Kenan.

“So good of you to join us, Trickster.” Delila glowers at me, before lighting up another smoke and inhaling. “Okay. So, we are set to dock in Brisbane in twenty-three days. As usual, or if you’re new—” She looks over to Callan, Sass, Kenan, and Perse. “It takes twenty-three days to sail to Australia, where we do two shows in Brisbane, before setting off to Sydney and Perth. You’ll find an itinerary underneath your seat, which is heavily outlined on not only our timetable and schedule, but the training that I will need you all to maintain while we’re out at sea. If you’re not working on your routine, you better be ru

I kick out my leg and inhale a cloud of toxic nicotine smoke.

“I need everyone to keep up their routines. Because we’re at sea for a long time, that doesn’t mean you slack off.” Delila brushes her hand in the air. “That’s all.” I look around the auditorium, the seats line a stage with all of our training props to the back. Someone has even moved in the double wheel so we can work on it. I’m not in the fucking mood to do anything right now, so whoever did that wasted their time. I could ride that cage with my eyes closed.

“What time did you go to sleep last night?” Maya scowls, dropping down onto the chair beside mine.

“Damn, grinding my balls already? Not go

“Gross,” Maya snickers, leaning her head back against the top of the chair. “Have you spoken to my mother? Maybe ask her why she decided to round us all onto this godforsaken ship and set us out of the US.”

Keaton clears his throat. “Nah, but I’m almost certain it has to do with Patience.”

“You think?” I ask, thinking over Christmas Day and New Year’s Eve.

I flinch when I think of New Years. It’s not something that I want to think about right now, especially with Maya sitting right beside me. It’s still a little tender between her and I after that—I don’t want to encourage the animosity.

Movement catches my eye in the corner when Perse and her crew start moving to the center stage.

“Killian.” My father pointed toward the double staircase that leads to the second floor of our mansion. “Go and make sure they have done their duty.”

I huffed. “Dad, they do it. Every single time. I don’t need to check.” I kicked out my leg and took another spoon of granola. I didn’t know why we had to fly back to Kiznitch this week. I hate visiting the old land. It’s depressing as fuck and besides, I have everything that I want right here.

“Killian,” Dad barks. “Go and make sure.”

I tossed my spoon down into the ceramic bowl and kicked off from the chair. Fucking slaves. Why the fuck do we have them anyway. They’re nothing but a