Page 81 of Priest and his Anarchist

“I don’t.” Using my thumb, I clean the edge of my burgundy lips.

“Halen. Not now…” River’s warning isn’t enough to cause me alarm.

Stella’s eyes land on mine in the mirror, her smile brief before returning to what she was doing. It’s tense. I don’t like that I’m the cause of the sudden shift within their established friend group.

I sigh, swiping my Louboutins from the floor when turning to her. “Look. I can’t say anything, and you of all people must understand the importance of that. I know you’re not deluded in thinking that you sit at a higher, or even the same rank as your brother.” My smile is weak.

Her eyes close as seconds pass. Her shoulders relax and she slowly opens back on me. “Okay.” Coming closer, she rests her hands on my shoulders. “I’m sorry. I’ve been more of a bitch than usual. I don’t like when they hide things from me.”

I want to tell her she needs to get used to it. That a lot was withheld from her because it’s not her place to know, but when I look over her shoulder to River, she shakes her head a little before sipping on her drink.

I smile. “You’re good.”

“Okay!” She exhales, blowing out the tension that the boys had lit. “I’m glad that’s over, now”—she flips her phone to selfie mode—“new group photos are needed.”

Shuffling into a few photos, I lean back on my heels. “I might have to meet you guys there. I have a few things to pick up from home first.”

Surprisingly, no one questions me when I dip out of the room, drawing my phone out of my bag and tapping out his number.

“What is it?”

Chapter Twenty

priest

Vaden’s thigh hits mine as he gestures out in front of us. I follow his line of sight, landing on the front entrance. All three of our fathers enter, with Dad leading the way. Even now, without the gavel, he holds the room with simplicity and finesse. Nothing like Pop.

People gravitate toward him the deeper he gets, stopping and chatting in his path. He entertains it but remains tense. I can’t say I’m glad he pushed us deep into the territory of entertaining the masses. Because I won’t.

My fingers itch for chaos, but I'll pull back because of our parents’ sudden return. Wait. If anything happens while they’re still here, it’ll only involve them.

That’s something I’m not sure I want.

“Do you know who she is?” I know who he’s referring to since not long after our fathers entered, a woman waltzed through in red velvet. Her face was hidden by a shawl of silk. They call her the Huntress. It was Dad’s final hat trick before handing me the gavel.

“No. It’s a surprise they brought her though.” Because this is a King event. The only people in attendance are just that—Kings. But somewhere between Hector and Bishop, people became comfortable in Riverside. The kind of comfort that allows people to test our boundaries.

“Has she been let out before?” War asks, looking over his shoulder and following who we’re watching.

“Yes,” I hiss, baring my teeth and snatching another drink from a passing waiter. “Once before.”

Awareness runs over my skin like a pair of Toyo tires.

“Isn’t she new? Like a new King placement?” Stella asks from beside me.

“No.” People laugh and chat with each other, and it becomes obvious the more time goes on how annoyed Dad is. He scans the room in a clear display of unease, until he lands on me. The muscles weighing down his brows ease. A moment passes, and regardless of whether anyone else notices, it doesn’t matter. There’s a distinct difference between the parents and us, and that’s purely responsibility and that alone.

“Where the fuck is Luna?” I drag my eyes off Dad, knowing he’ll move this way.

The opening is a simple way for people to get to know each other, the new staff that War has chosen, and the parents of the kids attending one of the most prestigious schools in the State of New York. The kind you don’t get invited to attend unless you hold a particular set of skills and a bloodline that bleeds black.

“Don’t know,” Vaden mutters, gazing back ahead. “You made me fuck her into a coma, not trail her.”

His thumb beats at the side of his thigh, the wheels in his head spinning. Vaden isn’t like War, where he’s volatile with his emotions and careless with his tongue, but he’s not like me either, where no one ever knows what’s going through my head. He’s in between the both of us.

This night needs to end already.

I hold his stare. “That bother you?”

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