Tacet a Mortuis Read online

  “Thanks,” I muttered, my eyes closing. “I don’t think I’m too bad either, but last I checked, I owned a vag.”

  “Wait, you did that?” Jase exclaimed, Hunter was still silent beside him. Probably still glaring at me.

  “Yes.” I opened my eyes onto Bishop. “But that was after he stamped his initials over my ribs.”

  They all started laughing, all except Khales. He still hadn’t moved her hand from his thigh. His eyes searched mine briefly and then his arm went behind my neck as he pulled my face into his, his lips now pressed against my ear. “I should make you pay, Kitty. Fucking badly, and I will, because you don’t get away with that shit easy, but for now…” His lips dropped to my neck and my eyes closed again as his tongue slipped over the most sensitive parts of my throat. “I’ll play with you a bit.” Then he sat up straighter, moved his thigh out of Khales’ grip and called out to the driver. “To mine, man!”

  We pulled into Bishop’s driveway, and when the car came to a stop he got out with Khales, but I stayed in my seat. I needed sleep and food asap.

  “Kitty…” he growled.

  “I’m tired! Can we do this cat-mouse thing tomorrow? I don’t feel like fighting.”

  “Get out. Now.”

  I grumbled. “Bye, guys,” then stopped, just as I got out of the car and leaned back in to look directly at Hunter. “You and I are going to have words!” Then I shut the door and left Bishop behind, heading straight for the side gate. I spun around and looked directly at Khales, fuck my aching feet and drowsy eyes. “You can fuck off.”

  “What?” She looked at Bishop, who was still looking at me.

  “She’s right. Leave.”

  “But—”

  Bishop turned his eyes to her. “Leave. This is between her and I.”

  I grinned, an eyebrow quirked and ran my eyes over her body. “You won’t wanna get blood on that pretty little outfit.”

  Bishop snorted and shook his head, then I turned back around and sauntered to the pool house, opening the door and slamming it behind me when I noticed he wasn’t following me straight away. What the fuck was his deal with her. There had to be something else other than the fact that they were friends or whatever when they were young. She had to be of value to Bishop, or she wouldn’t be alive right now—that much I’m certain of. I rummaged through the kitchen pantry and pulled out a bag of potato chips, popping them open and then hopping onto the little kitchen island. I had mad food munchies going on right now.

  “Bishop! I’m heading back to LA, can you please—” the voice cut off when it hit the kitchen, probably seeing me on the counter.

  “Sorry,” I sucked the salt off my fingers. “Not Bishop.” I swung my eyes to where it came from, to see who it was when I paused. The woman was beautiful. She had razor sharp short hair that hung to her angular jawline, dark honey eyes, and a sun-kissed tan that actually looked natural. Oh holy shit. This was Scarlet Blanc, as in Bishop’s mom, as in A-lister star of all time. And I was sitting here, still slightly drunk, chomping down on potato chips and sucking salt off my fingers.

  A smile curled her lips. “Well, considering my son doesn’t bring girls home, I’m gathering you’re Madison?”

  I beamed embarrassingly, but my damn mouth. “Well, there is one other exception,” I finished with an eye roll. “I’m sorry, I’m still a little drunk and it’s been a long night, which is far from over, and I’m rambling. Yes, I’m Madison, so nice to meet you. I would give you my hand to shake, but it’s covered with salt and saliva, so I guess…” she hated me. I could tell.

  She erupted in laughter, displaying her straight teeth. “It’s alright. I don’t need to. I’ve been wanting to meet you for some time.”

  “Really?” I squeaked, slightly scared about why she would be wanting to meet me for ‘some time.’

  She nodded. “Yes, of course. The girl who pushed my son into a frenzy, my very unattainable son and stable son, may I add…” The words seemed harsh, but the tone in which she said them was harmless. I heard the door open and then close.

  Bishop strolled in and paused, taking in the scene. His mom winked at me and then eyeballed Bishop. “Bring her to Thanksgiving. I’m sure the family would love to meet her.” She paused at the threshold where the kitchen meets the living room. “Oh, and that’s no girl. I believe the correct term for her is… slut?” Then she left. I was speechless, but uncontrollable laughter escaped.

  Bishop snatched the potato chips out of my hand.

  “Hey!” I scolded him, but he dived in, grabbing out a handful.

  I flopped forward, my shoulders hunching from fatigue. “I’m so hungry, and your mom is awesome.”

  His eyes remained on me, shoving potato chips into his mouth. May as well get this war over with, Mr. & Mrs. Smith style.

  I pulled my bottom lip into my mouth and dropped the smile. “Bishop, I’m sorry, okay, I messed up majorly and I know that.”

  “How far did you get?” He went to the fridge and pulled out a bottled water and then back to where he was standing.

  “Um, not that far. Kissing, touching.” His jaw ticked. Abort, abort. “Ah, it lasted like three minutes before Jase walked in.”

  “And if he hadn’t?”

  Okay, there was his issue. “I wouldn’t have let it get that far, Bishop.”

  “And I’m supposed to trust you?” He set the water beside my thigh, the cool moisture melting against my warm skin. I grabbed it, suddenly parched.

  “I guess you have every reason not to,” I explained, my head starting to thud from the lack of sleep. “But I’m new to all this, Bishop. I’ve just found out all this new shit about my life, I made a fucking mistake, okay?”

  His eyes searched mine. “Yeah, you keep saying that.”

  “What the fuck am I supposed to do!” I didn’t even feel the tears leaking out of my eyes. “I find out that my mom wasn’t really my mom and oh yeah, the guy I loved fucked her, and then he had been hiding his first love—whatever the fuck that slut is to you—all these years and didn’t actually kill her like he was supposed to!” I sagged, my eyes feeling heavy. I jumped off the kitchen counter. “I’m going to bed.” I went to brush past, but his hand caught mine and he tugged me into him.

  His fingers hooked around my chin and he tilted my head up to look at him, his eyes searching mine. “You love me?”

  My eyes started darting around the room. I said that? Shit. I did.

  Defeated, I shrugged. “Yes, Bishop, thought that much was obvious. I’m tired.”

  He pulled me under his arm and I followed his lead up the stairs to his bedroom. Everything was throbbing so bad that as soon as I belly flopped onto his puffy blankets, my eyes closed and sleep took hold.

  A buzzing sound alerted me from somewhere in the distance, but my eyes refused to open. There was no way I was waking up yet. It was still dark, or maybe my eyes were still closed. Deep vibrating motion started shaking over my ass and I exhaled, groaning while reaching for the annoying device.

  “You better be dead.”

  “Madison,” Daemon? I shot up instantly. “Are you okay?”

  Silence.

  “Daemon!” I called into the phone.

  “Yes, yes, I’m fine. I need a—I need to go. Are you with Bishop?”

  I switched the phone to my other ear and shoved Bishop awake. I’d been around my twin brother enough to decipher what he’s usually trying to say.

  Bishop’s eyes opened and he gazed at me. Not fair. At all. He looked far too beautiful to be hungover. His light brown hair hit the early morning sun front on, as if it was burning from the heat and turning to the soft ash that settled through his strands. His soft lips were plump and smooth, and his skin glistened with not one single flaw. He licked his lips and his dimples sunk into each cheek.

  “Mmm, what?” His arm wrapped around my stomach as his eyes slowly drifted closed again.

  “It’s Daemon, he needs a ride somewhere and asked if I was with you.”


  Bishops eyes opened again and he snatched the phone from me, instantly speaking in Latin. My lady parts weren’t going to survive him. It would be even hotter if I knew what they were all talking about though.

  He hung up the phone and slid out of bed, going straight into the bathroom. Tossing the covers off my body, I started stripping and slipped into the shower. Steam eloped me everywhere and I sighed, closing my eyes as the hot water slipped all over my flesh, washing last night’s shenanigans off me. I stilled when the palm of his hand opened on my belly and he pressed down, his lips coming to the back of my neck.

  I shivered, a cool sweat breaking out over my skin, but cranked my neck, giving him more access. His hand traveled down lower until he was cupping my sex, his thumb pressing against my clit.

  I bit down on my lip to try to contain my groan and the fireworks that were erupting inside my belly. Only Bishop could do this, only he had the power to completely disarm me while putting me on high alert all at the same time. He licked me across the back of my neck as his fingers continued to play with my clit. One finger slipped inside and circled, hitting something deep that had my toes curling and my back arching. His other hand traveled up my stomach, over my breast as he pinched roughly, biting the back of my neck at the same time. Both sensations unleashed waves of toxic euphoria flushing through my veins. I could feel I was on the edge of combustion, so I went to turn to face him, but his hand flew straight to my throat and his lips came to the back of my ear.

  “No, Kitty. You won’t move unless instructed to and you won’t fucking speak unless I ask you to.” Bishop had always been dominant in bed, but something about his rough tone had me thinking this had to do with a lot of other reasons; not just his overbearing alpha male, domineering attitude. He clenched my throat. “Do we understand each other?”

  I nodded, but my eyes were still closed and I continued grinding myself into his fingers. “Yes.” Then he let go, pushing me out of the way. All the tightened pleasure I was feeling, snatched from me instantly. It was as though his touch was a distant memory, and like a fool, I instantly missed it.

  “Good. Get changed, we’re taking Daemon to the airport.”

  “Err...” I went to answer, but he was already getting out of the shower. I grabbed the soap and scrubbed up super fast, and angrily, considering he had worked me up that much only to leave me hanging. I had a feeling this had a lot to do with my punishment. And If I knew Bishop, which I did, this had only just begun and it was only going to get worse, but the joke will also be on him because he’s not getting any sex either.

  Unless he does…

  I hit the faucet off and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around myself. Walking out to the bedroom, I headed straight into his closet and rummaged through what clothes I still had here—or Tatum’s clothes. Pulling out some cut-offs and a loose off-white shirt, I threw it on and slipped on my Vans before letting my hair back down my back.

  I hit the bottom of the stairs and stilled when I saw Khales was on the sofa eating granola.

  “Seriously,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. Stomping into the kitchen, having about enough of her presence, I stopped when I saw Bishop. “Why is she still here?”

  He barged past me, walking to the front door. I followed, flipping the slut off on my way. Bishop let me through the door. “She stayed in the house.”

  Wait, what?

  “Why?”

  Bishop’s jaw ticked as we rounded his Maserati. “Because she doesn’t have anywhere else to go, and because of my fucking dad.” Pulling open the passenger door, I slid in and clipped my belt on. Great, so Hector was keeping her around for some reason.

  “I need food.”

  He fired the car up and pulled out. “After we drop Daemon off at the airport.”

  “Airport?” I asked, an eyebrow perched. “Why is my brother going to an airport?”

  “Why do you still ask so many questions?” He retorted.

  “Why do you still keep secrets?” I snapped back.

  He grinned, seemingly pleased with my wit, then he sobered. “There’s something I’m going to tell you, but it cannot be known that you know about this place yet.” He dropped it into third, looking at me and then looking back to the road. “Am I clear?”

  “I get it,” I deadpanned. I was used to secrets now, and regardless of the poor decisions I had made where Bishop and I were concerned, I had never spilled one of the many golden secrets I knew from this world.

  “Daemon is from an island called Perdita, it’s Latin for—”

  “—lost,” I interrupted, remembering that word from one of the many translation games I played with my phone.

  His head dipped, as he turned down my street. For once, I was annoyed about how close we lived to one another. Obviously, Bishop was in the sharing mood, and that was something so rare, so unheard of, that I wanted to take it for complete granted.

  He stopped at the entry to our high wired gates, waiting for them to open.

  “This island is on the outskirts of the Bermuda Triangle, but remains completely off the radar, because of my dad.”

  “Your dad?” I questioned, and then internally smacked myself. That wasn’t important right now. The gates opened and I turned to face him, needing more answers. “Tell me more before Daemon gets in.”

  “This island is run by The Lost Boys but owned and orchestrated by Katsia. This island, Madison”—his eyes collided with mine as we came to a stop outside the front door— “is where things you can’t even comprehend happen. This is the crux of The Elite Kings.”

  “Wait!” I paused, trying to gather my thoughts. I was so confused but excited by how he was being open with me. “I thought the cave was on your property? The cave in the book?”

  “Oh, that cave is.” His eyes hardened. “But after the war, they all moved to Perdita which was where our families settled until they took back what was theirs, here, in New York and The Hamptons.”

  My mouth hung open, still in shock, then the front door opened and Daemon came walking down. He wore worn jeans, a white polo shirt, and a red bowtie. An interesting combination, but it was Daemon. He closed the back door and I turned to face him. “Bishop sort of filled me in, sort of didn’t, but, are you sure you want to do this?”

  He tilted his head, his eyes going to my mouth and then coming back to my eyes. Fucking language barrier. I pulled out my phone and typed up google translate—untrusty fucker that it was—but it would at least give me something.

  Bishop rolled his eyes and floored it out of our driveway, my head slamming into the seat. “Vos certus vos volo facere?”

  My tummy tightened and my legs clenched together. It was my secret that Bishop speaking Latin was a major turn-on—goddayum.

  Daemon nodded and shot me a tight smile. Daemon always smiled in a way that—either by twin instinct or not—I knew something was below the surface, threatening to spill over. I just hoped he would let me take some of the load. “I’m sure, Soror mea.”

  I went to type in that word in google translate, but Bishop did me a solid. “It means my sister.” We traveled in silence, and it wasn’t long until we were pulling up to the airstrip. Bishop handed the security officer his ID, and then the gates opened and he drove in. Pulling to a stop, I gulped.

  “Let me guess,” rolling my eyes, I pushed open my door. “The black jet with the gold crown on it is yours.”

  Bishop slipped on his aviators, getting out of the car with the sun hitting his tan skin.

  He flashed me a grin, his dimples sinking into his cheeks. “Dad’s, yeah.”

  I turned around and jumped into Daemon’s arms. “I promise I will get you out of this shit, mmkay? But in the meantime, I think it’s the best to have you out for a while, but I’ll see you soon.”

  His eyebrows pulled in, obviously confused, but I yanked him in for another hug. “I love you.”

  He froze, and then his arm hooked around me, tightening around my waist. He kissed my head. “Te amo.”<
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  My heart soared in my chest, my knees weakening. I knew what “amo” meant in most languages, so I already knew what he had said. He let me go, and I watched as he boarded the plane. Bishop was already waiting in the car for me, so I ducked back in.

  “Are you sure this is a good thing?” I clipped my belt back on.

  Bishop drove us out of the airstrip. “Yeah, it is. Now that the charges have been dropped, he has the chance to settle with Katsia.”

  Hold up. “What!” I snapped. “I thought the reason why he was leaving was because of the charges!”

  Bishop shook his head, calmly driving us onto the main highway that would lead us back to our neighborhood. “What? No. Of course the charges were dropped.” When I don’t answer, he glanced at me, and then back to the road, letting out an exasperated breath. “Madison, he’s not just a Lost Boy, he’s the Lost Boy. He’s Princeps of the Lost Boys. He has a commitment, and this life is all he knows—you can’t take that away from him. I get that this world is new to you, but there’s some shit that you’re just going to have to understand, while still understanding that you’re never going to know everything. It just is what it is. You’re a Silver Swan, Madison, you’re lucky you’re alive, let alone allowed to roam free amongst us.” I sunk back in my seat, suddenly feeling like a child getting scolded.

  “Harsh, but I get it. Which by the way, how am I still alive?”

  He smirked before chuckling. “How do you think?”

  “You?” Excitement jumped inside of me like a naïve little girl.

  He rolled his eyes. “You give me way too much credit. But, yes and no. A lot of it you have to thank your dad for, and the rest is me, and, well—”

  “—well, what?” I snapped, getting frustrated with his snail pace explanation.

  “My dad.”

  After swinging by In & Out, we’re getting out of the car back at my house when Madison started with her questions again. As long as she didn’t ask why I was keeping her away from her house—I didn’t care.

  “What did you mean by your dad?” She shoved a few fries into her mouth and I snatched the bag from her before she ate them all.