Page 18 of Priest and his Anarchist

How many secrets can one person hold in one house?

I study the oval-style bookshelf that is twisted like a beehive above the tub, ending on the ceiling. I find it interesting. But everything in this house is interesting until it’s terrifying.

I skim the base of the hive, tracing each line with my finger. “What are you?” Lines blend into thousands of spines, only not for books. DVD cases. So many cases. I pop out the first one I see, flipping the sleek black velvet case over to the back.

Sighing, I slide it back into its spot and take a careful step back, colliding with a hard wall that wasn’t there before. My skin prickles and I spin around, colliding with the smirking face of a certain “nice boy” with a filthy heart.

“You scared me!” Backing up, I slide onto the counter to put distance between us.

“Really? I haven’t even tried…” he teases, moving to the other side of the room while undoing the first two buttons of his shirt behind a smirk. The fabric falls off his body, exposing the muscles in his back that pull over broad shoulders.

My throat turns dry. “How’d you both get so big? Is War the same?”

“Nah…” He flashes me a wide grin. “He’s not as big.”

I bite my bottom lip. Out of all the things to ask after not seeing him or Priest since the night I found myself here, I choose his physique to talk about. Lame.

“Listen.” His tone dips. Maybe they won’t lock me in here alone. What if they put someone in here with me?

Wait. What if it was with Priest…

In that case, I’d prefer to be alone.

“I’m not going to do the things to you that I’m supposed to do, based on history. Had you been here on my grandfather’s clock, he would have toyed with you until you wanted to kill yourself, and if you were around on Dad’s, he would have just killed you and called it a day so that he could go back to making a slave out of my mother. But me?” I pause, eager to hear his next words. He curls his thumb beneath the H on his belt buckle. “I’m not interested in that. You just so happened to get the nice King.”

My laughter dies a tedious death. I wince. “Sorry. It’s just that, there are no nice Kings.”

“True…” He swipes a toothbrush, biting it into his mouth. “But I’m about as nice as they come, and trust me when I say, you’re lucky you got me when you did.” He scrubs his teeth, spitting out the paste and gesturing to the beehive behind him. “Just watch any of those and you’ll see why.” I don’t have to. Vitiosis translates to Vicious in Latin. Each last name in the EKC has meaning.

“Why would my mother send me here?” It’s more to myself, but I rest against the mirror, swallowing past the ache in my throat. I will not cry. I’ve never cried in my life and I’m not about to start today.

Vaden stops brushing. “Because your mother and Fathers understand the worlds we live in, even if you don’t. You weren’t raised the same way the rest of us kids were, and I’m guessing your mom wanted you to go off with your circus family.”

Memories flicker of Mom forcing me to try every stunt I could in an effort to see where my talent was. Midnight Mayhem isn’t a circus, and they don’t simply perform. They require a specific set of sorcery from you to even be considered partaking.

I never had it.

Maybe they were right. Maybe I was meant to be here, since I’m old enough to know where I’ll be assigned. If I couldn’t be in Midnight Mayhem, what was I to do?

Nothing.

I was useless. It was that or be outlawed. I guess this was Mom’s way of keeping me within a family.

“But you will.” He places his toothbrush into the holder. I should ask why it’s there and whether he’s staying, but he draws closer, his hip skimming my knees. He’s almost a foot taller than me, even sitting on the counter.

My mind goes blank when his knuckles graze my cheek. “…but he will not be so kind…”

My eyes pop open. “What?”

Tension snaps through the air and he drops his arm to the side as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t. Without moving his attention from me, he turns over his shoulder, revealing Priest.

He’s glaring at Vaden. “You done?”

The hostility is too tight to brush off, even with Vaden’s attempt at smirking his way out of it.

“One year down.” Vaden brushes his lips over the side of mine. “How many more to go?”

“A year!” I shove Vaden away, following Priest back into the bedroom. It’s obvious now. The way they both seem so much bigger, taller, and wider. As if they absorbed the time that passed and used it to juice their muscle.

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