Page 1 of Kortlek

CHAPTER ONE

Arlo sits across from me, shuffling the deck of cards. They’re in a deep shade of maroon, a personalized set he’d gotten from our parents as his birthday gift when he turned eighteen. His eyes are focused on the cards while he’s shuffling, barely blinking. Each time the game approaches, it takes him exactly fifty-two seconds to swish them around, without blinking in the process.

When the timer stops, he lowers them down, separating them into three smaller decks. The glass table under them is as clean as it possibly can be, all three of them ignoring the loud music that seems to burst even through the soundproof VIP section of the club Arlo and I own.

For a moment, no one utters a word. Hell, we don’t even move.

Slowly, Arlo leans back into the leather chair, folding his arms in front of his chest. His eyes flicker between his girlfriend, Blair, and his best friend, Cove. The other two simply glance at Arlo, then at each other.

Silently, it’s been decided that Blair will be the first one to draw a card.

She approaches the table, her fingers softly trailing over each deck, debating which one to pick. Her brows are narrowed, her jet-black hair falls down her waist in messy curls, and as if it would help her pick easier, Arlo softly grabs her hair and pushes it behind her back, holding it there and fiddling with a strand.

Blair smiles softly, her finger stopping on the middle deck. She picks the card up and sets it aside, face down, and then sits back down next to Arlo, who kisses the top of her head affectionately, making me gag internally.

“Your turn, Cove,’’ Arlo says, sipping on his whiskey, his free hand still playing with Blair’s hair.

Cove doesn’t need much time to pick; he just chooses the one on the left, his movements mimicking Blair’s when he puts the card to the side, almost uninterested.

Out of all of us, Cove has always been the quiet type. Where Arlo is obnoxiously loud, sarcastic, and loses his temper easily, Cove is the total opposite. A man of a few words, reserved, and has the patience of a saint. When it comes to us, at least. To anyone else? One wrong word thrown Cove’s way and they’re dead.

Arlo picks a card from the last deck, setting it aside, then removes all three small decks, putting them back in their box.

The tension in the room could be cut with a knife, and no one speaks. For a couple of minutes, all three stare at the selected cards, as if they would reveal themselves.

I take a deep breath, annoyed by their silence.

“So, when will I be able to participate in the game?”

“Never,’’ Blair and Arlo say simultaneously.

I roll my eyes with a sigh, leaning back and giving them both a death glare. I adore Arlo. He’s my big brother, and words cannot describe how much I love him. However, he tends to be overprotective at times, and it’s never helped.

It would be understandable if he ever had a reason to act in such a way, but not once has something happened that warranted the overprotection from him. Blair isn’t much better, either. Ever since they started dating a few years back, she has taken on the role of a big sister, and as much as I love her, it’s annoying to be treated like a child when I’m an adult, just like the two of them.

“Why?” I groan. “I’m an adult.’’

“These games, Aria,” Blair speaks softly, yet again treating me like I’m a child, “are brutal. I’ve gone through horrific things in my life, and I’m used to blood, violence, and gore. So is Arlo. You’re the only one who hasn’t been corrupted.’’

My brows narrow. “You do realize my parents are assassins, right?”

She takes a deep breath, reaching over the table and taking my hand in hers. “While that may be true, it’s also not the same. You’ve gone on missions with your parents, and all of your hits have been clean, quick, and easy. What we do during the games is anything but.’’

“It’s not fair.’’

“Enough, Aria.’’ Arlo’s stern voice hits my ears, and I snatch my hand back from Blair, then give him a glare, which doesn’t seem to bother him in the slightest. “I might consider letting you join in a few years; for now, you can have the honor of revealing the cards.’’

I scoff and flip him off.

These games, or Kortlek as the trio likes to call it, came to happen a few years back. Although I’m still being kept in the dark just how or who came up with the whole idea, it stuck, and it’s been happening four times a year.

The game is simple.

Three small decks are on the table. Each person of the trio picks a card. Once the cards are revealed, the numbers on the cards are added together, giving them a final number. The number signifies how many prey they will have.

For example, last time they did this, the cards picked out were an ace, six, and four, and when added together, they gave the number twenty-one, since they always count the ace as eleven. Last time, they had twenty-one victims, and from what I managed to overhear, they had the time of their lives.

The victims aren’t picked randomly, either.

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