Page 97 of Priest and his Anarchist

“You know what happened this morning, it isn’t a reflection of your parents or you. It’s the complexities of this world—of both of our worlds.”

“I appreciate that.” My smile doesn’t reach my eyes.

The bedroom door widens on Priest. He notices my phone, pushing away from the wall.

“Dad?” He kicks off his boots and makes his way to me, gesturing for me to give him my phone.

He cups my hand with his when I’m about to pass it, forcing my eyes back up to his.

With his loudest voice, he tenses my hand to look back at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Why do you all think something is wrong?”

“Because I know when you aren’t. This about the dead Huntress you saw me fucking with?”

“Huntress!” I hear River screech through the phone. “Those bitches reall?—”

“—Jesus, Riv, seriously.”

The noise of muffles on the other side of the phone.

I widen my eyes at Priest. “Big mouth!”

“You didn’t complain about my mouth an hour ago…” He rolls his eyes, falling onto his bed. He’s unhinged, confusing, and utterly insane.

I shut the bathroom door behind myself, inhaling a deep breath. Fishing my phone out of my pocket, I swipe open a text to Nate.

I should tell him about me at Del Morts.

Speech bubbles swell over the screen and then disappear. I’ve lost hope for his reply when another one comes through.

We may need to anyway.

I pause. Why would we need to? The fifth concord is that we aren’t to disclose who, what, where we are. Even to the holder of hammer. What could have possibly happened to make that change?

Why?

Because I’m pretty sure he already knows.

Chapter Twenty-Three

luna

past

“You can’t fucking do that!” Jessica scolds from across the room, unlatching her gun from the holster strapped to her thigh.

“You will find that I can,” Joshua quips back with a grin, matching her step whenever she comes close to putting him down.

I don’t know why either of them have to waste time arguing about it, when I could have taken them both out while they were too busy yapping.

I tighten the straps around my thigh, careful not to cut my finger on one of the four throwing stars.

My choice of weapon was simple. I needed efficiency and control, but I also wanted the entertainment. A gun was too quick. It was over before it had even started, and a knife felt too…well…butchery?

“How do you feel?”

Nate strolls down the wide steps, landing in the gym. Del Morts had rules. One, was that you don’t share your real name among disciples. Yes…we’re currently referred to as disciples. Two, you sign the contract upon entry, where I’m sure more rules are, and three, after you graduate, you are to not contact your peers on the outside. The concept is carved into every wall here. The monster you have to be here will be the weapon you become there.

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