Page 53 of Kingmakers, Year One

I say, “I thought you’d be waiting up on the ramparts with a welcome banner for us.”

Miles chuckles softly. “Sorry to disappoint.”

If there’s one thing I know about my cousin, it’s that he does not give a fuck about disappointing people. In fact, I think his greatest pleasure in life is defying expectations. Or maybe it’s getting in trouble, and then slipping out of it again just as quick.

How Miles managed to graduate from Preston Heights without being expelled is beyond me. He hardly needs Kingmakers for an education in operating outside the bounds of the law. He ran a supply chain of ten different kinds of contraband out of our high school—everything from party drugs to cheat sheets, probably clearing seven figures of profit by the time he graduated.

Not that he needs the money. His father was mayor of Chicago for eight years, not to mention head of the entire Irish mafia. The Griffins are rolling in cash, and Miles grew up in a lake house that looks like a transparent prism of glass perched up on stilts. No curtains—just trees all around, and then open water all along the lakeside. In certain rooms of the house, you can look down and see fish swimming under your feet.

“This is Ozzy,” Miles says, introducing us to his friend.

Ozzy is on the shorter side, heavily tattooed and pierced through his nose, eyebrow, and every inch of his ears. He’s wearing a sweater vest with no shirt underneath, so I can see the tattoos running down both arms—most of which look like they were done by amateurs at best, and quite possibly by himself with his non-dominant hand.

“The cousins.” He grins, shaking our hands hard. “Why the fuck are you all so tall? What do they put in your milk in Chicago? It’s bad enough standing next to Miles.”

“Don’t blame us for that one…” Miles jerks his chin toward Ares. “He’s independently overgrown.”

“This is Ares,” I introduce him. “He’s from Syros.”

“Where the fuck is Syros?” Ozzy inquires.

“It’s a Greek island,” Ares say, unoffended. “Close to Mykonos.”

“That’s alright.” Ozzy gives a sympathetic nod. “I’m from Tasmania and nobody gives a shit about that place either. Wouldn’t know us at all if not for Looney Toons.”

“I don’t know Looney Toons,” Ares admits.

“Well, shit,” Ozzy laughs. “Never mind, then. Point is, I’d rather nobody knows where I’m from than to have ‘em make the same damn jokes over and over. It’s all stereotypes! Thinkin’ we say ‘cunt’ and ‘mate’ and ‘how ya goin.’ ”

“You say all those things,” Miles points out.

“Not all the time though!” Ozzy cries.

“Literally all the time,” Miles says.

Ozzy ignores him, pressing on with his rant, “The fuckin’ number of times somebody says to me, ‘g’day mate.’ I could tear my own arm off and beat ‘em to death with it.”

“You can do that while it’s still attached, you know,” Miles remarks.

“Wouldn’t be as dramatic, though.”

“I would never try to stop you being dramatic.”

“You couldn’t if you tried.” Ozzy grins.

“Look out…” Miles mutters under his breath, trying to step behind Ares so he can’t be seen.

Too late—a furious voice cries out, “Nice try, Griffin. I see you over there, and I want my pen back IMMEDIATELY.”

A professor storms toward us, his big belly preceding the rest of his body, and his face suffused with angry color. He’s dressed in a tweed sport coat and highly-polished brogues. Perched on the end of his nose is a pair of silver spectacles almost the exact same color as his beard. He looks like an intelligent man in the process of being driven mad, his hair standing up on end, and his sport coat buttoned through the wrong hole.

Knowing my cousin, I can guess exactly what the impetus to insanity might be.

Miles steps out from behind Ares, hands still tucked in his pockets, his face the picture of confused innocence.

“Why would I have your pen, Professor? What good would it do me—you know I never take notes.”

“Don’t even try it,” the professor hisses, pale eyes bulging behind his glasses. “Don’t try to smooth-talk me. I’ve lost four pens since the semester started, four very expensive pens, every one gone missing while you were in my class.”

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