by Devney Perry
I pause. “Wait, what does that mean?”
Rose waves me off. “That my family had ties to Kiznitch, making me instantly a part of the families. Delila explained it all to me on my first night here, but Dove,” pain flashes over her face as she takes her next breath. “My mom isn’t actually dead. She just doesn’t want me.”
Anger roars to the surface. “Then fuck her. You don’t need her.”
Rose giggles, swiping her eyes. “We’re supposed to be talking about you and this picture, not me.” She takes a deep breath. “So that’s why I’m here, but why are you here, Dovey? That’s what scares me.” She has a point. It’s something I have been thinking about since meeting Delila. When I woke up in the cell, I figured I would be sold or something cliché like that, not be pulled into this strange world. Aside from that, if Jack has been missing since that night, why has no one said anything? Why didn’t I notice him not being around? There are a lot of people here who I see, but Jack made an impact on me, so I should have realized that he wasn’t around.
“Rose,” I murmur. “I know. Something isn’t right, but I need to get ready for this party, and I don’t want King coming in and catching us talking about this. When I get home, I’ll come find you. Okay?”
She stands, her slender body towering over me. “Okay, Dove, but be careful. I’ve heard King’s family is royalty.”
“Wait.” My hand catches her arm. “What do you mean?”
“The Brothers of Kiznitch family is the royal family, but the Axtons are like, next level. His father is like Don Vito, the motherfucking Godfather. They have their…” She pauses. “You don’t know anything, do you?” I shake my head. “I’ll tell you what I know later, but it isn’t much.”
“Wait!’ I repeat myself, just as she’s about to leave. “You have to come to this party.”
“She can’t,” Maya interrupts, standing behind Rose. “It’s against the law.”
“Law?” I ask, standing. “I’m confused.”
“Likely, and make no mistake, that’s how they would want you.” Maya stares at me until it makes me shuffle uncomfortably. “I would come with you.” She sighs. “But Kaius scares the shit out of me, and Dahlia, King’s mom? I swear she’s the worst.”
“Thanks,” I mutter, running my fingers through my hair. “You’re really helping.”
Maya rolls her eyes. “You should be lucky. There’s obviously a reason why you’re still alive.”
“I don’t know if that’s such a good thing anymore.”
Maya pauses. “You have real feelings for him?”
I freeze, my eyes flying to her. “What?”
“Oh, holy shit, you do.” She enters my space, her hands coming to either side of my cheeks. “You can’t, Dove. You have to protect yourself. Whatever he’s saying, you can’t trust.” I want to tell her that she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. But she’s right. I may have grown something for him over the weeks that we’ve been around each other, but it’s hard not to when I know what he feels like between my thighs. And I know what he tastes like.
“Maya,” King interrupts from behind her and she pauses, but doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t scare her, which is interesting considering he scares everyone else I’ve met. “Get out.”
Maya’s eyes turn lazy. “Come see me after the party.” Then she turns around and glares at King. “Because she will return.”
“Maybe,” King answers flatly. “Or maybe not.”
As soon as Rose and Maya leave, I look to King. “What do I wear?”
Dove
I remember my mom loving candles. Not just the normal light-a-candle-after-a-big- cleanup type—I mean, really loving them. I think she had more candles around our house than she did electrical lighting. I remember the smell of burning leather surging with sweet lavender. The smell was somewhat comforting, to a point.
I hadn’t seen this many candles since my childhood, but stepping through the front doors of King’s parents’ house felt just like that. To the left, a young man was shirtless, playing a soft melody on the piano. He had smudged black eyeliner under his eyes and a straight square jaw. His hooded eyes came up to mine, his cheeks sunken in. When they connected with mine, a slow smirk crept on the corner of his mouth. I shivered, running my hands up and down my arms.
“King!” Killian snaps at King’s retreating back as he enters farther into the house.
King turns around and pins Killian with a feral snarl. “Shut the fuck up and remember where the fuck you land on the scale, brother.” His eyes drop to mine, before going back to Killian. “And watch her.”
“Didn’t think you gave a fuck,” Keaton addresses from beside me.
King’s eyes whip to his. “I don’t answer to you.” He turns back around and disappears around a corner. He has been agitated all the way here, more than usual. I don’t know much about New Orleans or the state of Louisiana in general, but the area where his parents live is very country. It’s about a thirty-minute drive from the city, where Delila lives. I think I heard Killian say the town’s name is Destrehan. Their home is a giant modern mansion in the middle of an aged field. I feel as though the house itself stands out from the rest of the old plantation-style homes. Everything is glass and licked in rich deep reds. The setting in the house is smooth and mellow, much like an intimate restaurant.
Keaton’s hand comes to my arm. “Stick by me, Dove.”
I rest into his embrace, but not long enough because Killian is pulling me out. I suddenly feel like a used toy that people don’t get to play with enough, bringing my thoughts back to the drawing of the dove that’s burning inside my bra. “Actually, she needs to be with someone who can make an unbiased decision.”
“That would be me,” Kyrin’s arm wraps around my torso, tugging me into his chest from behind.
“Ah, no,” Killian says. “We said an unbiased. Not someone who will kill her.”
“What about me?” a voice says from behind us, and we all turn to see who it is. The guy who was playing the piano is now standing, glaring down at all of his. He’s got to be around the same height as King, and has an uncanny resemblance to him.
“Ah.” Killian shuffles. “I don’t know, Kohen.”
Kohen brings a glass filled with white alcohol to his lips and smirks. “Why not?” My eyes run down his torso. He’s almost identical to King, only no tattoos. I can’t make out much of his face because he’s wearing stage makeup and eyeliner, but he’s definitely got to be related to King. A waiter walks past us, and he swings around, snatching another glass. When he turns, I face the same tattoo the boys and Killian’s mom have, only Kohen’s is massive and fills his entire back. Each tip reaches the edge of his body.
Kohen spins back around and hands me a glass. My eyes go from it to him. “For me?”
Kohen smiles, waving his other hand. “Of course. Rude of these fuckers to not offer you one as soon as you walked through the door.”
I lick my lips and his eyes follow the movement. Slowly, I reach for the glass, my eyes on his. “I’ll stay with Kohen. You boys can leave.”
That seems to satisfy Kohen, who grins proudly, standing back to his full length.
“Little Bird,” Killian murmurs, and in an instant, I watch as Kohen’s face changes. Shock, recognition washes over his beautifully stained features.
“Little Bird?” he asks, only he’s not angry. At least he’s not showing it. He’s… intrigued.
“Fuck,” Killian curses. “Kohen, she needs to stay near us. I’m sure you understand now.” A silent conversation passes between them and I’m left standing in the middle, dumbfounded.
I take a long swig of my drink. “I’ll be fine. I’ve been here for five minutes.”
Kohen reaches for my hand. I find myself allowing my fingers to separate, allowing his to fork between mine. “Come on, Little Bird. Do come meet my parents.”
“Your parents?” I ask, looking up at him as we move through the main foyer and to the sitting room.
He reaches out a long-stretched hand to a woman and man who are sitting in chairs that are designed for a king and queen. There are other people in the room, but I’m so distracted by the power that’s radiating off them both that I’m trapped in a trance.
Lost.
In danger, maybe.
“Yes,” Kohen announces. “Mom and Pops!”
Fuck. That must be King’s parents, which means Kohen and King are brothers. Double fuck! I thought King said he was an only child? Or did I imagine that? I must have.
Kohen’s fingers tighten in mine and he turns me around to face him. I can’t breathe. My chest is heaving, his eyes searching deep in mine. “Little Bird,” he whispers like he’s screamed that name one too many times, and I continue to lose myself in his gaze. Where King’s eyes are a burning green, Kohen’s are pitch black. They’re frightening, but there’s a simmer to his fire that I find myself drawn to, like a dumb little bird.
“Do I know you?” I whisper, searching his eyes.
He exhales, running the cushion of his thumb over my bottom lip. “You—”
“Kohen!” King growls from somewhere in the room and I instantly pull away from him, like he’s a flame that’s licked my skin.
I find King instantly and hate myself for needing him to touch me where Kohen had just touched me. Replace what wasn’t someone else’s to touch. Goddammit. When did I become so fucking whipped?
Silence cuts through the air. All of the yapping is silenced. I drag my eyes back to King’s parents. Dahlia is staring right at me. Dark eyes like Kohen’s and long brown hair that looks like she’s put a hair straightener through it one too many times. She’s flawlessly intimidating, and she’s not even spoken a word yet.
“Kingston.” She turns to look at King. “Do I need to ask?”
Kohen shuffles his feet, standing in front of me. “A promise is a promise, Mother.”
What the fuck is going on? I turn around to seek out Killian. When I find he’s watching me closely from behind with Keaton and Kyrin beside him, I calm slightly.
“Hmmm, maybe.” She flicks her nails around. “Dove Noctem. Come forward, please. I would like to get a good look at you.”
I freeze, and then run my hands down my white skinny jeans. Sidestepping away from Kohen, I begin to make my way toward her when Kohen catches my arm. “Dove.” He looks at me, confused, his eyebrows crossed and his forehead marred in confusion. I’d like to see what he looks like without all of the stage makeup, but I’d be lying if I said he didn’t pull it off, looking like a hot deranged pirate.
I try to pull my arm out of his grip, but he doesn’t budge. Then I see it. The cool, candid guy I met earlier has slipped and now something else has come over. It’s eerie to watch. Kohen’s eyes go straight to his parents. “She’s not Dove.”
“Pardon?” I ask, searching his eyes. “What—”
“Yes. She is,” King says, his eyes on Kohen. “I’ve been around her. She is.”
Kohen yanks me into his chest and I throw my hands out, stopping him from coming any farther. “Really, brother? Mind if I test that theory?” Kohen doesn’t wait for King to answer because his lips are on mine. I keep mine closed, along with my eyes and count to ten.
One. A river flashes over my eyes with the same little girl with red hair.
Two. She slightly turns her face, and I try to grasp more of it. Instead, my hand goes to the back of Kohen’s neck, and my head turns, giving him more access.
Three. The girl finally turns around, only it’s not me. She looks like me, exactly like me, only different. My tongue slips into his mouth and he pulls me into his chest tighter.
Four. The girl waves, a big smile on her face. Two dimples pop from her cheeks, only she’s not waving at me.
Five. I slowly turn around to see who it is that she’s waving to, when I see two little boys, a little older than us.
Six. One is wearing a baseball cap backwards and the other is wearing a small fedora.
Seven. Kohen picks me up from my legs and I wrap them around his waist, holding on and deepening the kiss. The boy wearing the cap that’s flipped backwards comes toward me. Closer and closer. He’s familiar. So fucking familiar.
Eight. He smiles, so bright that his straight white teeth gleam against the sun. The one wearing the fedora strolls straight past me and goes for the other redheaded girl who looks like me.
Nine. Who is the girl who looks like me? I don’t know. But this boy is almost right in front of me now. His fingers stretch around my chin as he tilts my head to his.
Ten. “Kohen fucked around and Mom and Dad are fighting again.”
I jump away from Kohen, shoving him off me. “What just happened?” I swipe at my mouth and search for King. “What the fuck was that?”
King is glaring at me, seething, but something else sits behind his eyes. “Told you,” King announces, his face dead and his eyes emotionless. “It’s Dove.”
I turn back to face Kohen, who is searching my eyes.
“How do I know you? And you!” I turn, pointing to King. “I fucking know you!”
“No, you don’t,” King says, picking up a glass of whiskey and shooting it back. He runs his fingers through his hair and points at Kohen. “You know him.” I’ve seen King like this, but not for a while. Even when he was standoffish in the RV, he was never cold. The way he is now is similar to how he was when I first met him in the cage.
I spin around, tears blurring my eyes.
I hear his mom sigh, before she makes her way toward me. When she stands, she towers over my short frame. She has to be over six foot. “You are Dove Noctem, and you, my sweet little witch,” she presses her fingernail underneath my chin, “are not welcome here.”
“I did what you asked,” King says, looking at his dad. “I chased this bitch for the better half of her fucking life, made her fall in love with me enough for her to trust me to bring her here, managed to not let Kyrin kill her.” My eyes flick to Kyrin, who shrugs, as King continues to dig the knife deeper and deeper into my chest. “And let’s not forget about her fucking parents.”
I swipe the stray tears that fall down my cheeks. “This was a setup,” I whisper, squeezing my eyes closed. I want to scream and kick and shout and ask what the fuck is going on. Why I know these boys from my memories and where the rest of my memories have gone. When my parents were killed, I was traumatized for years. My foster career put me into therapy, extensively in order to help me speak. I didn’t talk for years after. “I’ll hear you when you speak, Dovey. I will always be there.” It was enough to silence me at times. When I started working at the bar, I met people. I felt somewhat safe around them. They became my family, which became my security. I still to this day can withdraw my speech under duress, but it hasn’t happened.
“I was sure that you would be triggered with her, son.” King’s father stands from his chair as everyone continues to remain silent. “But you’ve once again proven to be stronger than I give you credit for.”
“Wait.” Keaton slides in front of me. “You can’t kill her.”
King’s eyes fly straight to Keaton. Was he really going to fucking kill me? Everything I thought I knew about King was a lie. A motherfucking LIE.
“You’re a liar,” I whisper before I can choke on the words. I search the prim marble floor for answers I know I’ll never get, but anger bubbles beneath my skin anyway. “Everything you ever told me was a lie!” I yell toward King, who stares right at me.
He smirks. “Was it?”
“Fuck you!” I scream and fall to the ground. My hands cover my face as I begin to rock back and forth.
“You can’t kill her,” Keaton presses, but I’m still momentarily lost in my own turmoil. “I know you want to because of an old beef, but you actually can’t.” I knew King was a hard man. I knew he was savage, but I never knew he was soulless.
“And why is that, Keaton? Please, do tell me why I cannot kill someone who belongs to a family that carelessly tried to destr
oy and expose the brotherhood. A family whose mother was a deranged psychopath and broke multiple laws, and then who further birthed a little girl who recklessly tried to kill my child in his sleep? The deal was that he put her in a home, not run off with them both and hide! Now, my wrath is long since tipped.” King’s father spits sarcastically. “I don’t want to hurt that girl, but what I want and what I stand for are two different things. She has done wrong. She was the wrong child. Nothing like her sister.”
“What happened with Dove and Kohen when they were children wasn’t in Dove’s control. She was not normal. They always played sick little games, wanting to test each other to see how far one can go. Dove was toxic for Kohen, sure, but she didn’t mean to hurt him when she pushed him into the lake. She was still a child, and aside from that, you can’t kill her because—” Keaton mumbles. He must kneel beside me because I can feel his hand come to my arm.
“Since when did the darkest of them all have a heart?” King’s mom says, but it’s too late. I’m dead inside. I’m flat. Numb. Coolness brushes over me and my mouth is slammed shut.
I don’t want to fight. When all you do is fight in life, fight to live, to breathe, to exist, you get tired. I’m tired. Drained. I don’t know why it is that I know King and Kohen, but I’m tired. I wish I could be back at Midnight Mayhem, but then would Delila really help me? Or was she in on this whole thing? I can’t trust anyone.
No one.
“Dove?” Keaton whispers into my ear. “I need you to pay attention.”
I don’t answer. My mouth is sealed closed by my unwillingness to obey. What’s the point of speaking if everything around me is false?
“Keaton,” another man’s voice booms from behind him, but I’m trapped in my thoughts, swimming in my pity.
“Keres,” Kingston’s dad interferes. “Please, let us hear what your son has to say.”
Keaton stands tall, keeping one protective hand on my shoulder.
