Saint
He disappears back into the house with Veronica not far behind him. His mother. How? How is that even possible? She looks barely old enough. I pause. How old was she when she had Brantley? Then again, it is Lucan. I can’t be all that surprised.
My phone dings and I open the text. It’s a group chat with Madison and Tillie. I can’t believe I’m going to call them my normalcy, but they are.
Madison: When are you allowed out of that coven? I need to vent.
Tillie: You could vent to me, but you don’t want to.
Madison: No, it’s because you’re crazy right now. Saaaiiiint?
I begin typing out a text to them, my mouth stretching wide with a smile. I missed them.
Me: I think we’re coming back today. Some weird shit happens here.
Madison: Trust me. We know weird.
Tillie: We need you to balance our pregnancy hormones.
I shuffle backward out of the pool, taking a seat on one of the sun chairs.
Me: Mad, how are you and Bishop?
The text bubbles flash. Then disappear. Then reappear. Then stop.
Tillie: Let’s just say we’re all scared.
Madison: I think he needs you.
I pause, my heart racing. I hate that I’ve been here when I should be there for Bishop. Obviously, the news of him becoming a father would have been big for him. My shoulders feel heavy as the sudden urgency of fleeing surges through my veins. I make my way back into the house, bumping into Ophelia.
“You’re leaving today?” She pouts her bottom lip. I’ve more than warmed to Ophelia while being here. I can safely say that she is someone I will miss completely.
“I am, but we’re not far from Riverside, so we will see each other often.” I pull my phone out and hand it to her. “And in the meantime, text.”
Ophelia’s bright green eyes falter as a ghost of a smile briefly spreads on her lips. “If only that was true.” She takes my phone and punches in her details, handing it back to me. “Please keep in touch.”
I tilt my head. “Are you okay?”
“I’ll be fine.” She moves toward the pantry, taking out a bag of Cheetos and falling onto one of the barstools. Clawed steel curves up her back, molding her into the chair. The chairs are eccentric and gothic. After she’s chewed one, she sighs. “Okay, fine, maybe not. Frankie is acting crazy because she can’t seem to attain the attention of Samael.”
“Samael?” I lean against the kitchen counter. A breeze swims through the air, twirling around the nape of my neck and igniting goose bumps down my spine. “Was he one of the warlocks?”
“Yup.” She pops the P before downing another fat Cheeto. “He’s a little particular with who he chooses. We’ve always known that. I personally cannot stand him and will never actively seek him out during a hunt.”
“But Frankie does?” I ask, an eyebrow quirked.
Ophelia locks eyes with me. “Every single time.” She shuffles off her chair. “I hope you come back, Saint, or at the very least, don’t be a stranger.”
Driving down the manor’s dark, gloomy driveway brings back a surge of memories from the last time I was here, preparing for Bishop’s ceremony.
“For the record, this was Bailey’s idea. Did I mention she has moved in?” Brantley pushes the driver’s side door open. Cars line the circular driveway, and when I say cars, I mean cars. It’s easy to notice all of The Kings’ cars because they’re styled the same. Blacked out and palatial. Nate’s Lambo, Bishop’s Maserati, Eli’s Porsche.
I slide out, stretching my arms above my head. “Hey, what did Veronica want before we left?”
Brantley keeps his eyes on mine, not even a flinch. “Nothing.”
My eye twitches, but I take his hand anyway. Regardless of how annoyed I am that he just lied to me. I’m, once again, angry with myself at how easy it is for my body to cling to him.
“She threw a party?” We make our way up the front steps. The familiar lion head stares back at me from the handles. I don’t know what I feel for Brantley anymore. The attachment and bond are obvious, but anything else… I’m not sure. I wonder if there’s too much spilled deceit between us for me to push forward. I’m confused, my mind is one big scribble that I can’t erase or redraw.
“She did.” He pushes the doors open and I step through to a spray of confetti thrown in my face and music vibrating the walls.
“Surprise!” Bailey and Tillie jump out from behind a wall that separates the kitchen and living rooms, a smile on both their faces.
I shake my head, laughing. “You really shouldn’t have…” I mean, they really shouldn’t have.
Tillie waves me off, flicking her shorter hair to one side of her shoulder. “Ah, yes, yes, I did.” She pulls me into her arms. “This asshole is never taking you away again.”
“Let the favorite sibling through…” Bishop’s voice hits me like a sip of hot chocolate on a cold winter’s night. I duck to the side of Tillie to see him barreling toward me. Before I can shake my head and back away, he’s flipping me over his shoulder and I’m staring at everything upside down. “Missed you.”
“I missed you, too! But can you put me back down so we can hug and make everything less awkward?” The pattern of the wooden floor tells me he’s taking me into the living room, and then out to the back patio, where more laughing and music are coming from.
He finally places me onto solid ground and I fling my arms around his neck, pulling him down to my height. “I missed you, too.” His arms are clasped around me, stubborn like their owner. I step backward slightly, but note he still doesn’t release my body. “You look good.”
Bishop laughs, bringing a tumbler to his lips and taking a long sip of the amber liquid swirling inside of it. “Mmmm, that’s entirely you, little sis.” He pulls me under his arm, pressing a soft kiss on my head. “Bailey planned all of this, but I put my foot down on the guest list. Only people here are ones I would trust with you.”
I look around the place. “Bishop, there’s like ten people.”
He swallows the rest of his drink. “Precisely.” Kicking out a lawn chair, he points down to it while taking the other, unzipping his hoodie.
I turn over my shoulder, but my breath catches when my eyes land on Brantley, watching us from inside with a bottle of whiskey being raised to his lips. His eyes say the words I know he isn’t capable of speaking. Not because I know he doesn’t feel them, but because he thinks he doesn’t deserve to.
“He’ll be fine,” Bishop interrupts, bringing my attention back to him. A shiver glides over my spine when I exhale. I’m currently surrounded by my favorite garden. Well, it’s a close call between this one and the one at The Daughters of Noctum. This one is sentimental, though, because I grew it.
“I don’t know.” I lean back in my chair until my head is leaning against the edge and all I’m left looking at are the stars in the sky. “Hell & Back” by Machine Gun Kelly and Kid Ink plays loudly, yet somehow not loud enough. “He’s worse than before.”
His silence fills the space between us. Bishop picks up a bottle of alcohol and pours some into his cup, handing it to me and resting the bottle on the top of his knee. “I need to ask you a question.”