by Amo Jones
She stops me with a simple whip of her hand. “Daemon—”
“Madison?” My dad’s voice breaks through from behind me. “What are you doing here?”
I turn to face him, plastering a fake smile on my face. “Oh! Hey, Dad!”
I look back to the receptionist, where she looks at me with an eyebrow quirked, eyeing me up and down. Looking back to my dad, I walk up to him. “I was just wondering if I could see Daemon.”
Dad looks at me suspiciously. “He’s out on bail. Happened just this morning. I take it he will be at home now.”
I can’t help the smile that comes onto my mouth, my chest warming. “At our home? Okay, I’ll go up there now.”
“Madison.” My dad puts his hands into his pockets. “We need to talk about Daemon though, so I’ll get Sammy to meet us back at home.”
“Okay,” I whisper, relaxing so much more, now that I know he’s on bail and at home. I can’t imagine Daemon in a prison cell, and he doesn’t deserve to be in a one. I know what people say about him, but he would never hurt me—regardless of what he does or has done to other people. I don’t know why I have such certainty about Daemon, but I do. My ease with him is effortless. Maybe it’s a twin thing, I don’t know.
I follow Dad back out of the station and wait as he tells Sammy that she can meet us back at home.
“So,” I begin, unlocking the truck and getting into the driver side. Dad gets into the passenger seat and clips in his belt. “What is it you want to talk about?”
“Daemon.”
“Yes, we can start with him,” I murmur, pulling out into the oncoming traffic. “Why?”
Dad looks at me. I can see him from the corner of my eye. “Why what?”
“Why didn’t you and Mom want him?” I ask, risking a quick glance toward him. “I mean, it just doesn’t seem fair that I got this life and he got his.”
“Whose life do you think is worst?”
Interesting question, but that’s Dad for you. He has always had a way of expressing his knowledge—a way I hated growing up.
“I don’t know,” I scoff. “Don’t make me answer that. I got a luxurious life, though it hasn’t been easy at times, and I’ve….” I clear my throat, not wanting to get too touchy with this subject. “But Daemon’s life seems messed up, Dad. So why? Why’d you and Mom decide he wasn’t worthy of your love?”
“It’s not that, Madison. He wasn’t fit to be a King, so he had to be a Lost Boy.”
I laugh. I can’t help it, but “he’s not fit to be a King” just grinds me the wrong way. “That makes no sense.”
“You will never make sense of this world. You need to understand that.” He looks at me, and I glance back at him. “Trying to figure out this world will never happen, Madison, and it will kill you like it has killed many others who tried.”
Taking my eyes off him, I look back to the road. “There are so many questions.”
Dad nods. “Yes,” he looks ahead of himself, “and just when you think you know everything, something else gets thrown into the mix,” he mutters under his breath, almost like he didn’t mean for me to hear.
“Like what, Dad?”
He looks back to me and smiles, the wrinkles around his eyes deepening. “That’s not for you to worry about. Just be careful with Daemon. I know he wouldn’t… intentionally hurt you. But he’s a dangerous sort, Madison. He’s so very dangerous.”
“Why do people keep saying that?” I don’t mean to, but it comes out as if I’m annoyed. I guess I am. I’ve seen a glimpse into the dark side of Daemon. I say glimpse because of the way people are talking about him makes it seem like he has a very, very dark part about him. But even in that mode, he wouldn’t hurt me.
“Because it’s the truth.” Dad exhales. “Just be careful. If I tried to explain Daemon to you, it still wouldn’t scratch the surface, but I have rules.”
“Rules?” I inch my head back. “Since when do you give me rules?”
“Since a bullet grazed your temple, Madison!” He raises his voice a little toward the end but then breathes out, exhaling all his anger. “Look, stick to these rules or I will father you, and I don’t care how old you are.”
“Fine.” I slump into my chair, pulling down our street. “What are your rules?”
“You are not to be alone with Daemon under any circumstances. The Kings know, so if you want to spend time with him, one of them needs to be there with you.”
“That’s bullshit!”
“No, that’s the rule. They don’t have to be right beside you, but they need to be there.” I pull into our gated driveway. “Elena and I are flying to Dubai tomorrow morning. Stick to that one rule or I will be on the first flight home, understood?” He looks at me just as I pull up the emergency brake.
“Fine.”
“Good.” Dad smiles. “Oh, I’ve moved Daemon to the bedroom on the other side of Nate’s room.”
“Why?” I ask, getting out of the truck and rounding to the front. “Why not beside my room?”
Dad stops, tilting his head at me. “Does it matter?”
I open my mouth, ready to answer, but close it again. “I guess not.” Because it doesn’t. At least he’s here, and Dad is allowing him to stay. I have to be grateful for that, though Katsia will want that meeting ASAP. I can’t stand her and I don’t trust her. She’s apparently a descendant of Bishop’s family line, and though I’ve only met Bishop’s dad a couple of times, I don’t like him. He’s the king of the Kings, and there’s no way in hell I’d ever cross him. Same as Katsia.
Taking the stairs one at a time, I go straight to Daemon’s room and knock.
“Come in.”
Pushing the door open, I lean on the frame. “Hey, you.”
He smiles, a genuine, big smile, and his eyes light up. He gets up off the bed where he was sitting oddly, staring at…. There’s no TV there, so he was staring at the wall. As he pulls me in for a hug, I wrap my arms around his waist and sink into his embrace. “I’m so sorry about all of this, Daemon.”
“Hush,” he murmurs into my hair. “They just like you safe. Like me. I like that too.”
“Yeah, but they should trust that I trust you.”
Daemon inches back slightly, his eyebrows pulling in as he seems to mull over what I just said. “Trust,” he whispers, and then looks down at me.
“Yes, trust. It’s the feeling you get when you know someone won’t hurt you. It’s loving someone and knowing they wouldn’t betray you.”
Daemon shakes his head, and lets go, stepping backward. “No, Madison. If that is trust, I do not deserve yours. You should not trust me.”
I step forward. “Daemon, I do though.”
He shakes his head, stepping back again until the backs of his legs hit the rocking chair that is in the corner. He takes a seat. “No. You cannot.”
“Daemon—”
“Madison,” Bishop speaks up from the door, and I turn to face him, searching his eyes.
“What?”
“Leave. Now.”
“What?” I snap, then look back to Daemon. “Do you want me to leave?”
Daemon looks up at me from leaning on his elbows, his eyes pained and his face strained. It’s the first time I’ve seen him in any other light aside from my brother, and he’s beautiful. Beautifully ruined. “Ita.”
I look back to Bishop, not knowing what that means. He simply nods, so I look back at Daemon. “Okay.”
I push past Bishop and walk toward my bedroom, flopping down on my bed. Seconds and then minutes pass before Bishop walks back in, shutting the door behind him.
I shoot to my feet. “Is he okay?”
He walks farther into my room, taking a seat on the bed beside me. “Yeah. When he’s like that though, Madison, you need to let him have space. Nothing good will come from pushing Daemon to a point where….” He stops, seeming to think over what he’s about to say.
“Bishop,” I warn, looking toward him. “You need to not lie to me.�
�� He lies down on his back, and I follow, rolling onto my stomach. “Please. Just don’t lie to me. I can handle everyone else lying to me, but not you.”
Turning his head, he looks between my eyes. It’s intense. His stare is always intense; it makes me want to look away, but I’m afraid I won’t feel it again. I want to feel it for as long as I can. Soak it up, bathe in it, swim in it. Now I sound crazy, but maybe I am. Maybe when it comes to him, he brings out the dark, crazy side of me that I’ve always suppressed by being the quiet girl. Because he gives me confidence, all the confidence I need to tackle or do anything, and that’s lethal.
Reaching out, he tucks some of my loose hair behind my ear and smiles softly. “I promise I won’t lie to you.”
I inhale, unable to contain the warm feeling that overflows my insides at his promise. Not once has anyone—not my father, not Nate, no one—promised me those words since I’ve found out about this world. Leaning down, I kiss him, running my lips softly against his. I’m just about to pull away when his hand comes to the back of my neck and he grips onto me, pulling me back down to his mouth. His tongue darts inside and everything in me instantly comes to life. Picking me up, he puts me on his lap, and I straddle him, raking my hair out of my face.
“I’m not used to this,” he murmurs, his hands coming to rest on my thighs.
“Used to what?” I ask, running my pointer finger down his hard chest, over each ab muscle, and eventually down to the lines that disappear under his jeans.
“This, what this is. I’ll fuck it up one way or another. You’re prepared for that—right?” he asks, his tone sincere.
I shrug, looking back into his eyes. “I guess we can cross that bridge when we get there.” I open my mouth, wondering whether or not I should ask the question that is itching at the back of my brain. “Khales?” I must have decided I was going to go there, because before I can stop myself, I say it.
His jaw tenses. “It’s not as you or everyone thinks.” He taps me, and I swing my leg off him, scooting up the bed and leaning on the headboard.
“So tell me then. What was she?”
“A close friend. We were always together, because she was a friend. You know your Tatum? The girl you met before you knew about the Kings?”
I nod, slightly nervous at where this conversation could go. It’s the first time Bishop has ever opened up about Khales, and I don’t want to say something dumb and have him clam up again. “Yeah, but haven’t you boys always known about the Kings?”
He laughs, running his hands through his hair and leaning on his elbows, his back turned toward me. “No. It’s not until you’re of age when you’re given the book. I had known Khales since we were in preschool.”
“Who was she?” I ask, tilting my head. “I know she went to Tillie’s school and all that.”
“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “She had a shitty life, and then eventually started playing with drugs. I always tried to help her where I could, but sometimes you can’t help those who don’t want to be helped. Anyway, she kicked the drugs, and after I was initiated, she and I got close again. That is until my father decided otherwise.”
“Initiated? You mean after you…?”
He looks at me over his shoulder then turns to face me fully, leaning back on one of the posts at the end of my bed. “I’m sure you know about the initiation process.”
I blush. “Yes… how old?”
“Thirteen.” He looks at me carefully. “I’m sure you know what happens after….”
“Your first kill?” I ask lightly. I already know the answer, so I pull my eyes away from his and look at the wall.
“Truth?” he replies gently.
My eyes snap back to him. “Always.”
“Then, no, it wasn’t my first kill.”
I breathe in deeply. “Well, okay.”
“Okay?” He chuckles, shaking his head and pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. “I tell you that I killed someone when I was younger than thirteen, and you say ‘okay?’ Like it’s the most natural thing in the world?” He looks back at me, a mixture of awe and anger in his stare.
“Well,” I reply, “in our world, it is natural.”
“True,” he agrees.
“So your dad? He made you kill her?” I want to tread carefully around her, and I probably should have found a better word than kill, but I need straightforward answers, and to get straight answers, you need to ask straightforward questions. Leave them no gap to dance around their answer.
His jaw clenches. “Something like that.” I can see it’s a touchy subject, and aside from the fact that Bishop isn’t someone who opens up, I don’t want to push it. I don’t want to use the fact he just promised me he wouldn’t lie to bleed answers out of him.
Smiling, I shake my head. “Hungry?”
He snaps up at me in shock, “What? You’re not going to push for more answers?”
I shrug, getting off the bed. “No, I figure if I go in too hard, you might clam up, and I really am hungry.” My phone dings in my pocket and I pull it out, opening the text from Tatum.
Tate - You home?
Me - Yep.
Tate - I’ll come up soon.
Tossing my phone back on the bed, Bishop looks at it then back to me. “It was Tate,” I answer his unspoken question. “She’ll come up soon.”
He laughs, getting off the bed and stretching his arms high. “I figured.”
The following few days have gone better than I expected. Aside from Daemon’s lawyer building his case, Bishop and I have fallen into a smooth… relationship? I’m actually not sure what we are, and I don’t want to interrupt the flow of things by asking for a label. Daemon hasn’t left his room though, and that worries me. Everyone I have expressed my angst to about him not leaving his room has told me to leave it alone and that he’s dealing with things the way he knows how. So out of respect for Daemon, I do just that. I’ve left it.
“I need to ask you something,” Tate says, peeling off the lid of her yogurt. “Please don’t get mad at me for bringing it up, but it’s been itching at me for some time.”
Biting into my apple, I roll my hand for her to continue—at least until the boys get here, and then I’m sure she will tense up like she always does. I’m not sure what is going on with her and Nate, but I’ve decided to leave that too, not wanting to go near their drama.
“Okay, so the tape…,” she starts, and I pause my chewing, looking around the cafeteria in panic mode.
“Tatum!” I snap at her through a whisper. “Why would you bring that up?” I sit straight, biting into my apple again.
“Well, I don’t know. Maybe because you haven’t mentioned it.”
“Well I just want to forget.” I give her a pointed stare.
“I just have this thing. So who sent it? Ally?” She won’t stop. Someone needs to gag her.
“Apparently so—yes.”
“But here’s the thing.” She spoons her yogurt into her mouth. “Ally was apparently at a retreat the day that video got leaked. As in, she couldn’t have done it, because you’re not allowed phones.”
I pause again, thinking over what she said. There’s no way that it couldn’t have been Ally. All signs pointed to her, and she admitted it was her. “It was her, Tate. She confessed.”
Tatum shrugs. “Ehhh, I just think that’s Ally. She’s going to take credit for any pain that has been inflicted on you, just because it’s you. But I don’t think she sent it.”
“Well, maybe not.” I drop my apple, appetite gone. “But she definitely had a part to play in it.”
“Mmm,” Tatum murmurs. “Which is my next thing. There’s someone who was working with her if that’s the case.”
I look around the cafeteria, watching all the students, in small cliques, some laughing, some drawing, some playing the guitar, and some just alone. “I haven’t had any trouble from it since, so I don’t want to look into it. Let’s just drop it?”
Tatum nods. “Consider it dropped
.”
If she’s right and someone was working with Ally, then there’s someone here who is working against me. Could it be Lauren? But since Ally disappeared, she’s been hanging around the nerd group.
Just as I’m about to open my mouth, Bishop walks into the cafeteria with the rest of the boys following closely behind. He takes a seat beside me, Nate sitting next to Tatum. I should really ask what’s going on between the two of them, but I won’t. I’m scared he’s just using Tatum as a rebound from Tillie, because I saw how he was with Tillie. Without sounding completely bigheaded, I didn’t even exist when Tillie was around, and since she’s been gone, I can see, just slightly, not in an obvious way, what her absence has done to him. I know I was told not to look for her, but once all this shit is sorted with the Kings, and Daemon, and Katsia, and all the other things I’ve left out, if she’s still not home, I will look for her.
Bishop wraps his arm around me, pulling me in and kissing me on the head. “Hey, baby.”
Swoon.
I smile shyly. “Hey.”
Tatum kicks me from under the table, so I look at her, widening my eyes to ask what the hell she wants. Her eyes shoot over her shoulder, so I follow, looking where she’s pointedly staring, and that’s when I see it. The whole school has pretty much stopped what they were doing to watch Bishop’s and my exchange. It’s unsettling and it’s weird, but I’ve gotten used to it over the years. Not just because Bishop is who he is, but from always being the new girl. But attaining Bishop has made people’s heads spin. He’s the standoffish asshole. No one was good enough for him—until me.
“So, just a quick little question while I have everyone here. Carter is throwing a party this weekend to mark….” Tatum thinks over something and then shakes her head. “Never mind. I forgot what it was for, but anyway! I’m going. Mads?” She looks at me, her eyes wide like innocent little saucers. The innocence is a lie.
