In Fury Lies Mischief

by Amo Jones

  “Of course, I get it. But when she came here, why did you kill her?”

  Killian draws in his smoke and then blows it out. “She tried to cut a deal with us. Wanted you out. Said that she couldn’t have you as a liability anymore, and that she was worried you’d flip on Patience. She wanted you dead, so I killed her instead. I admit, Delila was pretty pissed at me for doing it, you know what with my impulses…” He smirks at me. “There were a few of us there, and the whole thing was caught on video, so if you don’t believe me, I have proof. I couldn’t tell you at first because we were still trying to figure everything out. Could you imagine if I had told you then and there? You would have thought I was a psycho.”

  “Ehhh.” I shrug. “Still up in the air.” I shake my head. “I don’t understand why she would do that.”

  “How is that not obvious to you right now?” Killian drops his smoke on the ground, crunching onto it with the bottom of his boot. “She was Patience through and through, Saskia. She bled that shit. She was weak-minded, all of them are—but not you, and that’s because of your DNA.”

  “How can you be so sure about my strength?”

  Killian steps closer to me, bringing his finger up to my face. “Me and Maya rescued Kyrin the day he was brought in here. We stumbled upon the cabin when Maya was running me around the woods. They tried to take him, a fucking up-and-coming Brother, but they failed. We didn’t have time to call it in and Kyrin never wanted The Four Fathers to know, so we kept it secret, until Delila got it out of Maya years later. After spotting him through the window, I went into murder mode and needed him out, so we waited until the guards were upstairs or out the front before we snuck in through the back. While we were untying him, we saw you tied to that table too. I remember thinking there was something about you but not knowing why. You were young, wearing a blonde wig, makeup all over your face. It’s how you looked the night we came to the show.” He breathes out. “You are fucking Kiznitch. You were born to be a fucking Gladiator warrior. There was no way that this was going to define you.”

  I sigh just as Kyrin stumbles inside, carrying a gasoline container. “We’re burning this shit to the ground.”

  I take one of the containers and make my way into the sitting room where I saw the boy all those years ago. I pause before slowly tipping gasoline over the spot. Kill and Ky go upstairs and empty out the rooms before coming back down just as I’ve finished dousing the kitchen.

  I pull out my lighter from my pocket. “I hate this Zippo.” Killian watches me carefully. “I started smoking when I was fourteen as a way to cope with whatever was going on at the time. Kosta gave me this as a gift, had the patterns inscribed into it. Now that I know my real name and heritage, I understand the meaning of the hidden dragon.” I flick it open and toss it into the puddle of gasoline. “Up in flames.”

  We all pile out of the cabin and back into the convertible Jeep. We watch in silence as the cabin slowly burns, the metal roof caving in until it’s ignited into a ball of flames.

  Kyrin pulls out from the way we came. “Love the fucking smell of revenge.”

  I hated being that fucking person. The one that someone has to lean on in order to get through whatever it is that they’re going through, but I knew that two girls needed that from me right now.

  After we dropped Saskia back off at my plantation home in Kiznitch—with my fucking mother and the rest of the witches—we make our way back to Kosta’s house in Patience. Patience is a town on the outskirts of Kiznitch. When Midnight Mayhem was started, and those who didn’t make the cut got hurt, they moved out of Kiznitch and straight into Patience, which was only an hour drive away. It was far enough away for none of us to step on each other’s toes. Through the years, there was no vivid beef between us. I mean, we always hated them and them us, for obvious reasons, but we never were actively warring with each other, until the shit went down with Perse. We knew that we could end them if we wanted. Not only did Kiznitch have the manpower and numbers, but the Four Fathers are four of the most powerful men in the world. Each Father has a talent, and each Father, has a skill—a career—that they provide for Kiznitch and help keep our world alive. Us as Brothers take on our Father’s role when the next generation comes up, but it’s not always guaranteed that we get another Four Brothers of Kiznitch. Once one brother has a kid, we will all have to try for them. Hopefully not until we’re over fucking thirty. Until then, we’re Brothers until the time comes. The seven-point star that we wear as a crest signifies the seven founding families of Kiznitch. Initially, they did it years ago to stop any family lines from crossing over. If we all knew where we came from, we knew where not to go. I mean, this was fucking hundreds of years ago, when the town was only just founded. Now we have thousands and thousands of civilians who live in Kiznitch amongst us, but they all know who the founding families are. Where they came from or where they crossed from. Not all families who live in Kiznitch were born there. It’s like any town. Only with seven powerful last names. Kiznitch isn’t a small town by any means, it’s only small if you’re one of the Four or one of the founding families.

  Axton

  Cicero

  Nero

  Cornelii

  Patrova

  Kournikova

  Dragavei

  All seven founding families, fucking Kiznitch royalty. Now one of the greats has fallen, and not just anyone, fucking Delila. She has been the rock of Midnight Mayhem since before I can remember. Maya and Delila didn’t have the best relationship, but they loved each other as much as either of them could love.

  “You going to go to Maya?” Kyrin asks as we make our way back into the war zone.

  “When I get home, yeah.”

  Everyone is quiet when we walk in, blood spilling out over the affluent marble floor in the lounge room, right where everyone drew guns not long ago.

  Our fathers are still in here, along with King, Keaton, Kohen—King’s twin brother—and Kaizer. Delila is in the same spot, unmoving. Her body has obviously started to shift into rigor mortis, with her skin palling to an unnatural shade of purple and her body swelling.

  I count the bodies. “Seven? Thought there’d be more than that.”

  Kaius, King’s dad and the leader of the Four Fathers, shakes his head. “There would have been, had the rest of them not submitted.”

  I shuffle farther into the room, taking a seat on the sofa where Saskia once was. “By submit, are you saying that we’re going to invite them into Mayhem?”

  Dad sits down beside me, drawing his ankle up to rest on his knee. “No. They will need a transition. Weed out the bad ones.”

  I shake my head. “No. I don’t fuckin’ want any of them near—” I pause, searching for the right words.

  “Saskia?” Kaius asks, leaning against the wall farthest from me.

  “Yeah.” I run my hands over my face.

  “Son, what are you doing with her? She was planted into Mayhem, how do you trust her?” My father interrupts Kaius.

  I bring my eyes to his. “The same way you trust Mom, even though she sleeps with everyone in the coven.”

  Dad rolls his eyes. “What your mother does isn’t something I care about.”

  I know that. I didn’t grow up in a family where my parents were in love, or kissed or cuddled. Probably has a lot to do with my issues with women as I’ve grown, and probably my sexual aggression, but whatever, I don’t deflect. I own my problems.

  Instead of trying to explain something to my father that he’s not wired to understand, I shake my head. “Doesn’t matter.”

  Keres, Keaton’s father, pushes his glasses down from his head, examining Delila. “She’ll be buried in the Patrova plot in Kiznitch.”

  I nod. “Agreed. The rest of this house can get burned to the ground.”

  “Firstly, I didn’t want to be here, but I gotta say, I did enjoy the spilled blood, secondly, I could really do with a fucking drink,” Kohen murmurs. Exiting the sitting room.

  I sigh,
sitting back, as Kaius calls for the clean-up crew to pick up Delila.

  “What’s up with you and Saskia, son?” Dad asks, instantly annoying me with his question.

  “Why do you care?” I answer, not willing to look him directly in his eyes.

  “I care because I know that girl must have a chip on her shoulder, and that chip was put there by you. So that’s why I care.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “She was a sweet girl, Killian, but she is not that same girl anymore.”

  I know that he’s right, and I know that underneath it all, he means well, but I’m not in the mood to listen to one of his speeches.

  “Leave it alone, Dad.” I kick up from the sofa and watch as the cleaning crew comes in with a gurney and black body bag. My thoughts zone out as I watch them pick Delila up and move her onto the metal bed. “Delila always trying to do good by everyone in the most fucked up way possible.”

  King squeezes my shoulder. “You gotta be there for Maya, bro. You know this is going to hit her hard.”

  Sighing. “I know.”

  I’d classify myself as a feminist. I want women to succeed and I truly feel like we are a sisterhood. We are cut from the same cloth. We should support each other and uplift one another, but Draya tests my patience more than any woman ever has.

  I never liked her as a kid.

  I even more so don’t like her now.

  Draya rests her elbow on her knee as she leans toward me, her long dark hair spilling over one slender shoulder. The woman needs a meal. “Can I ask you something, Dragavei?”

  Oh, and also, I’ve noticed that she calls everyone by their surname.

  My legs feel restless. “Sure.”

  Draya studies my face closely. “Did you know that the Corneliis are not monogamous? Killian and Maya have a bond that cannot be broken, let alone touched by anyone. Will you be okay being second best forever?”

  I stiffen at her aggressive words. She has hung the bait out for me, hoping I’d bite.

  Keeping my eyes on hers, I smile sweetly. “What makes you think I want your son like that, Draya? He bullied me as a child, killed my father, killed my aunt, and played games with me from the day I joined Midnight Mayhem.” Her eyes narrow, but her mouth kicks up in a smirk. “You don’t have to worry about me breaking their bond, because I have no desire to go near it.”

  Slowly, she leans back in her chair, just as Ash and Dhalia—King and Perse’s moms—reenter the room, carrying glasses of whiskey. Usually, I’d decline, but after the day I’ve had and because I can still smell sex and murder on my skin, I take it when Ash hands me it.

  “Thank you.”

  “What are you two talking about in here?” Dhalia asks, flicking her long perfectly manicured finger toward me as she brings her glass to her mouth. Dhalia is beautiful, not to say Draya isn’t, but when they’re seated beside each other, you can see the different glow. Dhalia has a good heart, Draya is dirty.

  I take a sip of my whiskey, relishing in the burn that it leaves whispered over my lips. “Just clearing up a misunderstanding.”

  “Hmmm.” Draya dismisses me with a simple flick of her wrist.

  Ash runs her hand over my leg. “I had a feeling you were related Dragavei but couldn’t put my finger on it. Your mother and I were very close.”

  “Thanks, Ash.” I bring my hand to hers and squeeze.

  A few very awkward moments later, the front door opens in the foyer and voices spill into the sitting room. I ignore the way my stomach twists when I hear Killian. As if on cue, Draya smirks at me. She’s so much like her son. I see it now. Killian is his mother’s boy, not his daddy’s.

  Killian drops on the sofa beside me, and I suck in a breath when his thigh presses against mine. I wasn’t kidding when I said that I wasn’t interested in him. I am not. He has caused me too much chaos for me to just allow him in. He may be in my life but that doesn’t mean he has to be in my heart. I appreciate him for giving me the closure at the cabin, but now I have to think rationally. Or at least try to.

  The thick aroma of smoke, ash, and cologne swiftly seizes the room, and I know what they’ve done. Burned the damn house down. Delila.

  “They’re preparing her for a funeral in two days from now.” King pushes through the room, going straight for the mini bar on the other side of the fireplace that’s burning behind Draya’s chair. “I’ve already got the crew and girls on the first flight here. Killian hasn’t told Maya yet…”

  I freeze.

  King continues. “But he will when she lands.”

  Kaius shoves his hands in his pocket, looking at all of us in the room. All of the Four Fathers, their wives, The Brothers, and myself. “Delila being taken means someone will have to step up to run the show. Ideally, it is supposed to be Maya, since that has always been a Patrova role to do, but there’s Perse.”

  Killian’s leg jiggles against mine and I can almost feel his anxiety seep into my pores. “You can’t give that role to Perse. She’s a hybrid.”

  “But,” King adds, bringing his eyes to Killian. “Perse and Delila were really fuckin’ close. I’m not sayin’ that Maya shouldn’t step up, but I’m saying I think Perse is the right person to do this. Maya has a lot of growing to do, and besides that, she has just lost her mom.” King shakes his head. “You know Maya, brother. She’s going to lose herself, be reckless, and do a whole bunch of shit that she shouldn’t do. We can re-evaluate when the time comes, but I think Perse knows enough, was close enough, and is crazy enough to take that throne for now—until we need to re-evaluate.”

  I put my hand up as if I’m in a fucking school session. “What would that mean for the ringmaster? Delila was that too, and Perse can’t do that on top of everything else.” Just as the words leave my mouth, Kyrin walks in, slipping his gun back into the waistband of his jeans.

  “Lilith…” I whisper. I can’t help the smile that stretches over my face. “You have to use Lilith.”

  Killian leans forward, glaring at me. “We’re not using our enemy.”

  I shake my head, bringing my attention to him. “Lilith is black and white. She doesn’t think in colors. She isn’t your enemy. She’d be your nothing.”

  “What are you saying?” Kaius asks cautiously.

  My eyes swing around the room. “I’m saying that Lilith doesn’t see the world like we do. She doesn’t have a moral compass.”

  “Was she born like that?” Draya questions. “Was she born retarded?”

  “Shut the fuck up, Ma!” Killian snaps at her.

  I ignore them both, while tucking it away in my brain to get to the bottom of why he hates her so much—aside from the fact that she’s a massive bitch.

  “No,” I answer Draya, without paying her any attention. “She wasn’t. When she was a child, she was always crazy. She would talk a lot, do a lot of weird things for the sake of adrenaline, but after the years, life has worn on her—and it shows.”

  “You killed her dad. She will want blood,” King answers.

  I chuckle, shaking my head. “You guys still don’t get it, do you?” When no one answers, I take a sip of my whiskey and clear my throat. “You all may be killers, and horrifying ones at that, but you all have one thing in common. Loyalty. Patience isn’t like that. We don’t have loyalty as a morality. We have the killing, the rape, the human trafficking, the at times, incest, but we have no loyalty. No brotherhood. No friendships. Lilith doesn’t know any of those things. She would come in and be a reliable asset to Midnight Mayhem.”

  “How so?” Kyrin is the one to ask a question now.

  I bring my eyes to his. “Because she was the ringmaster for Patience, and well, I’m sure you remember the ringmaster—right?”

  Kyrin’s face flashes with recollection. “That was her?”

  I nod. “Yes, so, I think—”

  “—She’s right. Lilith should be the ringmaster.”

  Kallisto steps forward, watching me. “This will be on you if it fails, Saskia.”
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br />   “I wouldn’t have mentioned it if I didn’t already know it.”

  Killian grabs for his hair and tugs. “Still not with this idea. You want to plant a goddamn enemy and put her in the center of our show, and give the rest of the responsibility to Perse, who is herself new to this?” He stands and rushes out of the kitchen, slamming the door behind his retreat.

  I feel everyone’s eyes turn to me, as if I hold the answers. As if I hold the key to Killian’s frustrations.

  I don’t. No one does. That’s a key that doesn’t exist.

  The funeral was dark, and King was right, Maya isn’t handling it well at all. We flew home from Kiznitch yesterday after staying for two days for the funeral. Killian and I haven’t spoken much at all, and anytime he tries, I find myself moving away from him. To be honest, I’ve been battling with a lot inside of myself since finding out about who he is and his role in my life, in who I am.

  I can’t just forgive him for all that he’s done, but to make it worse, I don’t think he can either. He didn’t just save me, I saved him, too. We saved each other through a complete calamity.

  “Saskia!” Killian snaps from the entryway to the practice tent back in New Orleans. We’re setting back off in a couple of days, with Perse running the show.

  “What?” I don’t turn to face him, bending over to stretch my hamstrings.

  I think a big part of the tension between Killian and I is that we don’t trust each other now. Trust is the complication that delays love, it’s the bridge that joins two people together, so when that bridge burns down, it takes time to rebuild it, and that’s fine. You spend time rebuilding it, laying down the foundation again and putting all the time, blood, sweat, and tears into it, but here’s the thing. If you rebuild it, you better make sure the other is willing to cross it for you.

  I don’t think either of us can say that we can. From the beginning, I struggled to differentiate what was real and what wasn’t. What part of Killian did he show me was real, and what part of me that I showed Killian wasn’t?