Page 103 of Priest and his Anarchist

Archer turns his chair toward me, spreading his legs wide as they all continue in the background. I wouldn’t want beef with a single person in this room, but they wouldn’t want one with me even more. The only people capable of taking out either of the organizations in this room, are those sitting in this room.

It’s a simple case of keeping your enemies close.

“What’s your vote?”

My eyes land on Archer. “You.”

He tsks under his breath, his finger working his upper lip. “You give me too much credit, Hayes.” A beat of silence. “Especially since you found out I lied to you.”

I’ve thought about this a thousand times since figuring out she wasn’t with him. It made sense in a way that it didn’t. Which is exactly where you start with anything to do with a King.

My chair squeaks when I turn to him. “You didn’t lie. You kept a secret. They’re two different things. One requires trust, and the other is a symptom of loyalty. My only question is—” I flip open my Zippo, nicotine leaves drying on my lip. “Ever cheated on anyone, Thorn?”

There are three things in this world that I’m sure of. One, Archer Thorn will be running for the next presidency. Two, what’s about to go down tonight is pure insanity. And three, not a single person walking this earth can tell me that Luna Nox isn’t mine.

Deacon kicks the door closed, holding his keys in his hand. Finding out we had another brother wasn’t at all shocking. The Kings are anything but breeders.

“Fuck me,” he mutters, tossing his duffel bag onto the floor. Beneath a ceiling of darkness is a puzzle as a playground for anyone who deems worthy enough to see it for what it is.

Some call it wonderland.

I call it home.

“I didn’t know that I was coming home to all this drama, I mean, damn…” He reaches out to touch the gold switches, his head tilting to the side. He slid into our group as if he’d been there since birth. Annoying, since I barely tolerated him at the beginning.

“How was the flight?” I ask from behind my glass as he shifts further into the house.

“Long. We’ve got problems.”

I pause, bottle in hand as I look at my half-brother. “Does Vaden need to move into his role sooner?” I hoped he wouldn’t until the end of the year. I need to watch his movements.

Deacon doesn’t answer, the same vacant look I saw in his eyes when Halen dragged him back from whatever hellish place she found him.

“Deac?”

“Hmmm?” He shakes himself off and runs his hand down the side of his face. “Maybe. Might need to be sooner than later.”

This isn’t good. I don’t bother looking at Vaden because I already know he’ll be glaring at me with the same look he gave when I told him he couldn’t take over Vitiosis yet until the end of my first year.

Deacon lowers himself onto one of the leather sofas beside the bar, still not having taken his eyes off Vaden.

“What’s going on with him? How long have I been gone?” He doesn’t bother to hide his question when he notices the distant gaze in Vaden’s eyes.

I hand him a glass and take the spot on the other side. Leaning my head back against the rim of the chair, I stare up at the ceiling.

“Everything has changed, yet seemingly staying the same.”

“Hmm…” He stares down at the liquor, and I roll my eyes.

“The beer is in the fridge.”

“Thank God.” He slides the glass I poured him across the table that separates us and makes his way to the bar. “I need to ask, though. Is this gonna be a problem?” He jerks his head toward Vaden. “I mean, for whatever he does for the society. Will this curse be an issue?”

“No.” I clear my throat.

Vaden’s head is bowed, allowing his short dark hair to fall as the muscles in his arms tighten. He’s conscious and can hear us, but he’s…losing.

“If anything, it’ll help him.”

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